Two words, Erifani Tup.

  Not a person. Just words.

  A place? No.

  A thing? No.

  Some kind of magical words, a spell or something? No.

  What could it be? I decided to switch my thoughts over to the disk.

  A red disk, round and smooth. No discernible features. I needed it to figure out what Erifani Tup … was? What it meant? Was the disk some kind of device or tool?

  Something was starting to click.

  Erifani Tup. It was a clue, a code, some kind of hidden meaning. It was the key to understanding what the Red Disk was used for. And the Red Disk helped you figure out the code, or hidden meaning, of the words Erifani Tup.

  What could manipulate words, change them somehow so you could understand their true meaning? My brain strained, reached, searched for the answer that was somewhere out there. And then, like turning on the windshield wipers after idling in the heavy rain, everything became clear.

  I jumped up. “Inori, do you have a black marker or something, and some paper?”

  “Uh … yes, yes, of course I do. Hold on.”

  She ran into the back room and came out with exactly what I'd asked for. She also had a huge smile on her face, and I knew that she knew that I'd figure it out.

  I grabbed the marker and paper from her and began scribbling in huge letters across the entire face of it.

  “Where's the bathroom?” I asked.

  “This way.”

  I followed her into the hallway and through a small door. She flipped the switch, and I held the piece of paper up against my chest and turned to the mirror.

  Although most of the letters were backward, it read as easily as saying ABC.

  Now I knew exactly what the Red Disk was. It was a mirror, and it needed to be burned in order to use it.

  Which left only one question. Why in the world did I need a mirror?

  “Do you have a fireplace?” I asked her, anxious and excited.

  “Follow me.” She led me out of the bathroom and back into the main entry with the old brown couch. We went from there into the kitchen, where she had disappeared to make the sandwiches. It looked like something from an old museum—forty- or fifty-year-old appliances, terrible yellow patterned countertops, and a big thing with a handle on it that looked like a torture device.

  But the object that stood out the most was an old fashioned stove made of iron, with a swinging, grated door inside of which a hot fire was burning. A pipe led up from the stove and disappeared into the ceiling. It seemed very out of place.

  “What is that thing doing here?” I asked. “Inside a huge skyscraper?”

  “Because I can have anything I want here—something you will understand later.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Don't worry about it.” She grabbed a pot holder and opened the door of the stove. “Go on, throw it in.”

  I looked at the disk, thinking it through one last time. I had to be right, especially considering the way Inori was acting. If I was wrong, she would've been much more hesitant to show me a fire.

  I got a firm, two-handed grip on the disk, bent over toward the hot flames, and tossed it in.

  The fire flared into a brilliant white burst of flame, like someone had thrown in a bucket of gasoline. I strained to see the disk and what was happening to it. The heat made it impossible to get too close, and the licking tendrils of the fire hid it from my view. I waited a few more minutes, hoping Inori would offer some insight.

  When she didn't, I said, “So when and how do we get it out?”

  Inori walked over to a cabinet, opened it, and pulled out a long iron tool that had a handle on one end and rounded claspers on the other.

  “Use this,” she said.

  I took it from her and tested the handle. When I pulled its lever down, the claspers came together with a snap. It looked like it would cut someone's fingers right off.

  I grabbed the handle with two hands and put the other end into the fire. I felt around until the tool knocked on something hard and firm. I moved it around until my senses told me that it was in position, and then I pulled down on the lever. But when I pulled it out, there was nothing on the other end.

  “You know what, I'm being an idiot,” I said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “All I have to do is reach in there and grab it—the Shield will protect me.”

  “Even your hands?”

  “Sure. Worst-case scenario is it won't let me touch it.”

  I reached my hand forward like a man trying to pet a vicious dog, scared of its bite. Shield or no Shield, it just felt wrong to put your hand into a roaring fire. But the Shield repelled the heat and flame as I got closer and closer. Soon I was past the lining of the door and inside the stove. My hand felt nothing but air.

  I felt around and found the Red Disk. It was cool to the touch, and I didn't know if that was the Shield or just some new magic in my life. I gripped the Disk and pulled it out of the stove. It almost slipped out of my one hand but I caught it with the other just in time. I straightened to a standing position, and held out the disk so that Inori and I could both see it well.

  The Red Disk was no longer red.

  It was a perfectly circular, two-inch-thick mirror—not blackened or charred like it had just come out of a hot fire. I could see the ceiling and light fixture reflected back at me. Inori said nothing, and after a few seconds I held the mirror up to look at myself.

  Except I wasn't there. Everything else behind me was reflected in perfect form—the refrigerator, the cabinets, the horrible wallpaper. But not me.

  My face was nowhere to be seen.

  “What in the world?” I said. Looking in a mirror and not seeing yourself was an odd sensation. I moved it around at different angles, but I never showed up. Everything else in the reflection moved just as my instincts would've expected, but there was no Jimmy Fincher.

  “What is this?” I asked Inori. “Am I a vampire or something?” I saw a movie once that taught me the old myth that vampires can't be seen in mirrors. Then I had another creepy thought. The Sounding Rod had also not shown its reflection. What was going on?

  “Have you forgotten the purpose of the Disk?” she replied.

  I walked around behind her and then held the Disk up in a way that I would see Inori's reflection in the mirror. But there was no sign of her, either.

  “All I remember is that it was supposed to help me find the Dream Warden,” I said.

  “Exactly.”

  “You mean …”

  “Yes. Only the Dream Warden will show his or her face in this mirror. That is how you will know, and there will be no doubt.”

  “Well, it's obviously not you. No offense.”

  “Offense? You think I would want that duty? No thanks.”

  “What does that mean, anyway? What is the Dream Warden? Can he destroy the Stompers or something?”

  “You'll find out when you go through the fourth and final Door. The trials are all over now. It's time to fight.”

  She turned and walked out of the kitchen. I looked at the mirror once more and then hurried after her. I went into the main room and saw her sitting on the couch. She caught my eye and then pointed to the front door. It had changed.

  Minutes before it had been a plain white door typical of an apartment complex. Now it was brown wood, ancient and scarred, with worn-down carvings and curvy edges. It looked just like the others.

  So this is the last one, I thought.

  “It's ready when you are,” said Inori. “But first, we need to talk. Have a seat.”

  I sat down next to her and waited for her to begin. She took the mirror from me and helped put it back in my leather case, which she then slipped onto my shoulders.

  “Take that with you, you'll need it when the time comes.” She cleared her throat.

  “Now, listen very carefully. I need to tell you more about the Yumeka, the World of Dreams. I know we've already discussed some of this, but it's so important, we need to revisit the subject.

  “There is a big difference between dreaming, and entering the Yumeka. They are not the same. Not at all. The Yumeka is more of an extension of our own waking world, a union of dreams with real life. It's so hard to understand, and even more difficult to explain. But the key is this—you must never underestimate what it is to be in Yumeka. If you look at it as having a hunky-dory dream, you will never survive.”

  I tried to think of a question to ask while she paused, but nothing popped in my head. This made me realize how clueless I truly was.

  “You must look at it as a place,” she continued, “not a figment of imagination or thought. When I came to you the first time, you were having a normal dream—a series of images in your subconscious mind. Why you were hanging from a rope and all that I have no idea—you're a strange kid.” I started to protest, but she held her hand up. “But anyway, I pulled you out of that and into the Yumeka. It can be done—the Stompers do not own it, they only rule it. And they rule it with a terror which I need not speak of.

  “I think you felt the difference that day.”

  I nodded. I remembered the transition—somehow I had known that I was no longer dreaming in the real sense. Or unreal sense. Or whatever.

  “Again, the Yumeka is a place. When you see other people there, you are really seeing them, not dreaming about them. They are seeing you as well. Again, it's difficult to grasp, but I want to stress that point. The Yumeka is a place, it is real, and being there, under the control of the Stompers, is far beyond that which is conveyed by the simple word, nightmare. It is truly living those nightmares.”

  “So how on earth am I supposed to beat the Stompers? I know I can't use the Anything to do it—it won't let me just kill or get rid of them all, will it?”

  “You're right. The Anything will serve its purposes in the end but not for the Stompers themselves. For that you will need the Fourth.”

  “What is the Fourth Gift anyway?” I asked.

  “The answer to that question lies behind the Door, Jimmy. I think you'd better get going, although there is so much to tell. When you come back, if there is time, I will tell you more.”

  “Wait, one more thing. When you came to me before, you mentioned the Layers—you made it sound extremely important.”

  “Yes, just when you think it couldn't be any worse, there is always more.” She sighed and leaned back into the couch. “The Stompers are never satisfied with your first round of fear. If you fail, Jimmy, they will torment and haunt you until you grow immune to it. Then they will lift you into another Layer of the Yumeka. There, they will subject you to a new life—either a repeat of the old one or perhaps even some new life, with new memories and new friends and family. Maybe even set on a world you didn't come from. Whatever they think will cause you the most fear when they send the Shadow Ka and start the process all over again.

  “All the while, the Shadow Ka are taking care of your actual sleeping, physical body, keeping you nourished and strong so they can use you for decades. Layer after Layer, new nightmare after new nightmare, you will live in horror for the rest of your days.”

  My face had no blood left in it, drained by the terrible things she told me.

  “This is all making me sick,” I said and stood up. I paced the room back and forth, my stomach twisted and nauseous. “What are they? How can they be so evil?”

  “Because the Stompers are evil, Jimmy. That is what they are made of. When the Givers translated their name into our language, they chose Stompers because that is what they do. They stomp out every last hope and will to live. They stomp out your every reason to exist. They do it so they can survive in your place.”

  “Then what are the Givers?”

  “They are the opposite of the Stompers, that's all I know. They are good, where the Stompers are evil. Now, you must go.”

  I looked at her and then down at the floor. My courage was weak, and I didn't want to go anywhere near that door. Half of me wanted to give up and run away.

  But I couldn't. I was the only hope.

  I thought of my family. I thought of Tanaka, and Rayna, and Miyoko. I thought of the Hooded One and the Half. I thought of all my friends back home.

  For them. For them I at least had to try.

  I walked up to the Door, pulled it open, and stepped through.

  When I received the first three Gifts, I'd been underground, in an indoor blizzard, and in the middle of the desert. Now I felt a nervous excitement wondering where this new place would be. I closed the Door behind me as I looked at my new surroundings.

  This time I was in an open field of knee-high wheat, stretching in every direction all the way to the horizon, with a blue sky and bright sun overhead. A soft breeze threw waves along the wheat like gentle ocean surf, and the clean smell of fresh air and growing crops filled my nose. There was no break to the endless wheat other than the slightly undulating hills—no trees, no tractors, no animals—except for one very big thing.

  To my right stood a huge farmhouse. It was yellow, two stories tall, and had a wraparound porch. Behind it was a barn—the kind every kid played with as part of a toy farm set. It was bright red, with big swinging doors and a four-sided roof. On top was a large iron weather vane shaped like a rooster.

  Coming out of the barn, wiping his hands on a dirty towel, was the same man who'd given me so much already.

  How perfect a setting for our last meeting, I thought.

  It was Farmer, dressed in his usual garb—flannel shirt and overalls. But I was wrong in thinking it would be our last time seeing each other.

  “Hello, Jimmy,” he said as he walked up to me. “How wonderful to see you again.” He turned to the farm and opened his arms wide as if he were embracing it. “What do you think of my place?”

  “It's great,” I said. “Where are we when we meet, anyway?”

  “Oh, it's hard to explain. By now you have heard of the Yumeka, am I right?”

  “Yeah. Why haven't you ever told me about that before?”

  Farmer sat back onto an invisible chair—a trick I'd seen him do before. “Well, for one thing we've never had much time. The Stompers have always caught up to us, and they probably will today also. For another thing, I needed you to grow and learn a little more so that you would be able to accept it. And to be honest, you're not done learning all that you must know. There are still some hard lessons yet to come, my gifted friend.”

  Wondering if I could do the same trick, I tested my faith and leaned back and down as if sitting on a chair. I fell flat on my bottom. Farmer laughed.

  “Some things about the Yumeka take years of practice,” he said.

  “We're in the World of Dreams right now?” I asked as I brushed myself off. “Can you make me one of those chairs, by the way?”

  Farmer closed his eyes for just a moment, and then opened them again. “Yes, we are, and yes, you can sit down now.”

  A little more slowly than last time, I sat down and it worked—my very own magical chair.

  “So … how … I don't get it.”

  Farmer smiled and crossed his legs. “The Stompers are not the only masters of the Yumeka. Although our power here grows very weak. In the end, they always find us, and we are forced to run.”

  “How did you survive that ordeal in the desert—the wall of blackness?”

  “I was only hanging around that long to help get you out. The second you went through the door, I took myself away.”

  My brain hurt. “So … I still don't get it. When I came through the Door, did I go to sleep or what? How does that work?”

  “Ah, one lesson that we must save for last. Don't worry, you will understand the answer to that question after you beat the Stompers.”

  If I had been eating food, I would've spit it clear across to the barn. “After I beat the Stompers? Are you crazy? You make it sound so easy. I don't even know what to do.”

  “You will, Jimmy, you will.”

  “If you say so.” I shifted in my chair. “Okay, what's next? I don't quite understand the connection between the Fourth Gift and the Dream Warden. I brought along the Red Disk—well the Used-to-Be Red Disk—but I don't even know who or what the Warden is supposed to be. This mirror is a little freaky by the way.”

  “I'm not sure what freaky means, but yes, the Disk is an amazing thing, and extremely important. Everything depends on the Warden of Dreams, you know.”

  “Then why do you need me?”

  Farmer laughed. “Why do we need you? You've asked me some silly questions before, but that just might beat them.”

  “Huh? What do you mean? You just said that everything depended on the Dream Warden.”

  “It does.”

  I gave him a blank look.

  “Come. Everything will make sense soon.”

  He stood and began walking back to the barn. I followed. When we got to the entrance, he paused and turned to me.

  “To beat the Stompers and end their reign in your world, we will need you and the Dream Warden. Not one more than the other, not one less than the other. Come inside.”

  The barn was dark compared to the bright sun outside. As my eyes adjusted, Farmer led me to a workbench. It was made of wood and came to my chest. Dozens of various tools and tractor parts littered the top of it. Farmer leaned against it, resting on his elbows.

  “Based on our prior experiences, we better do this quickly and make sure you leave here with the Fourth Gift.”

  He reached for a small cloth bag that rested near the back of the bench. It was pulled closed with a drawstring, and Farmer held it out toward me, resting on his palm.

  “What yummy stuff do you have in store for me this time?” I asked.

  “Open it and see.”

  I put the bag on the bench and worked the string loose. Then I poured its contents onto my palm. It was one small green sphere.

  A pea.

  “Is this your idea of a joke?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he said. “Now eat it.”