Sam and Aster sat on the steps of the left staircase waiting as the Author and queen were having a private conversation. Aster had led them both to his door and before they could go in the Author said he needed a private audience with the queen.

“What do you think they are talking about?” Aster queried.

“I’m not sure; it looks important though. The Author talked to Lionheart privately too before we made it here.”

Aster’s eyes were as large as dinner plates.

“You’ve met Lionheart?!”

“You haven’t? I figured you would, being a princess and all.”

Aster looked at the ground and played with her fingers. Sam could tell that her words stung a little.

“Lionheart disappeared before I was born. I’ve only heard stories of the great king. It must’ve been a real honor!”

“He was very nice. Maybe when this is all over we could meet him together!”

“That would be amazing!”

The Author finished his secret conversation and walked over to the girls. Sam and Aster embraced again, tightly this time for they didn’t know the next time they would meet again. The Author led Sam across the route that Aster had shown them. They passed through a door on the second floor that led to a downward staircase that led to a kitchen and dining area. Beyond the dining area was a hallway that ended in a wall. In the hallway, Sam noticed there were guards that seemed to camouflage themselves with the color of the walls.

Previously Aster had lit sconces on the wall with magical fire that made the wall disappear and reveal a hidden treasure room. Sam was amazed at all the things that were hidden there. Gold and silver coins, cut in various shapes and sizes, overflowed out of stone chests. Gems of all different colors gleamed on shelves. Sam had to resist the urge to reach out and grab them. There were also jeweled hilts on swords and algae-covered shields with intricate designs.

At the far end of the wall, leaning against the wall was the Author’s door. Sam felt that old Magic that she had felt before radiating off it. There was no denying that this was the door that they were looking for.

“Are you ready?” The Author asked with a sigh. “It won’t be easy from here and I can’t promise your safety. Although, I will do my best.”

He gave her a wink.

“Yes,” she said with determination. “It’s time for us all to wake up.”

And then they opened the door.

Water poured into the room violently and the pair were washed inside. As the water continued through the seemingly endless room, it trickled down to a steady flowing river. The pair stood up. The water reached Sam’s waist and the Author’s knees. Sam squeezed water from her hair.

She looked around quickly. She was so excited to see what the room of a guy like the Author could look like; she had high expectations. Her jaw dropped as she looked around; she was shocked.

It’s white. Very white, she thought.

There was no exaggeration to that thought. The Author’s room was all white, white like a fresh, blank page. It was a severe blow to her expectation.

The Author took a few steps forward and appearing before him was a podium that housed a sleek, black typewriter. He cracked his knuckles and put his fingers to the keys. Clack, clack, clack went the keys as he typed. Words formed above the typewriter as they would’ve on paper, but there was no paper.

When he finished, the words flew from him, grew larger, and swirled around the room. The words became the physical manifestation of what they represented. A blue sky, with warm, yellow sun, stretched above them. Tan and brown rocks formed at the edge of the river. Winged creatures took residence in the sky, and beasts of the land inhabited and ran through the fields.

The Author offered his arm to Sam and they walked together on the grass, following the river away from where they came. Before it was completely out of view, the Author turned and looked at the door, still open, and watched for a moment as water continued to stream in.

“This is one of my favorite set-ups,” he remarked as they walked.

Soon, the river’s mouth opened up and became part of an endless, sparkling sea. A simple bridge, wide enough to fit ten people walking side by side, stretched across the sea.

At the foot of the bridge sat a lone palm tree reaching out over the water. When the Author arrived at the tree he touched the trunk with his hand. A faint pop was heard and the tree transformed into a large hut.

When the transformation was complete, a familiar shaggy-headed boy peeked out the door. Sam’s eyes filled with tears and she had to bite her lip to stop it from shaking too much. Her feet went ahead of her brain and she nearly tackled the boy. It was one of the biggest hugs she had given anyone; rivaling even the ones her mother would give her.

“Isaac! I didn’t know if I’d see you again!” She sobbed.

“Hey punk,” he said with a smirk. “It’s good to see that you’re okay.”

She looked up and could see that in his eyes he did, truly, care for her. She gave him another squeeze, wiped her eyes with her sleeve, and took a step back.

“Thank you for taking care of everyone,” the Author said with a smile. He offered the young boy his hand and they shook hands. Isaac flashed a nervous smile.

“You know,” a voice called from inside the hut. “It was the very least I could do.”

Teddy stepped out from the dark of the hut and gave a grin.

“I’m just glad your crazy plan worked out. Sneaking us out like that? Crazy! And giving the boy the key to your door? Unheard of!”

“Well, it was a gamble, but it looks like you handled it just fine.”

“Well, I guess I can’t take all the credit.” Teddy gave Isaac’s leg a nudge. “A natural-born leader this one is! He made sure every child was accounted for.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Issac tried to play it cool, but there was a smirk of pride trying to ruin his act. Teddy gave a whistle and a parade of children came from the hut. A small, silver tear ran down the Author’s cheek; he had saved them all. He brushed it away with his finger, then turned his attention to where they came and a wave of seriousness washed over him.

“We need to cross the bridge,” he said grimly.

“What’s going on?” The Wilde children asked in unison.

They took a second to look at each other, smile, and then look back at the Author.

“They’re coming, the Nightmares. The plan was to lure them here. Here in the depths of my room, we should have the strength to finally defeat these foes.”

The Wilde’s nodded. Teddy and the Author led the group as they raced along the bridge. A few of them gasped as they crossed, for in the reflection of the water they could see themselves, but the sky was dark purple and lit with hundreds of stars. The younger kids would stop and stare, but then Issac would usher them along.

The mysterious light that illuminate the room began to flicker as a growling echoed across the room. A flurry of murmurs came from the children. A bead of sweat formed on the Author’s forehead as he watched the darkness slowly moving towards them like an incredible storm cloud, ready to unleash its vengeance upon them. They were only halfway across the bridge.

“What do we do?” Sam pulled on the Author’s coat.

“Children!” He called out. “There is something really bad coming; I won’t hide that from you. The only way we can keep on dreaming the great dreams that we like to is if first, we rid this world of the threat on its way. We need to band together. Here in my room, your dreams will come alive and be the most realistic they’ve ever felt. Use your greatest imagination and let’s bring this monster down!”

The children stayed silent until Isaac let out a scream. The rest of the children screamed along with him. The cloud came closer and closer until the swirling, dark clouds surrounded them.

“We told that your efforts would be futile,” the monster spat.

“We now have covered your world in darkness and found the children. We will let you choose between surrender or destruction; you’ve lost either way.”

The Author stood straight-faced in front of the creature and said, “As long as there are dreamers to dream, I shall never back down.”

Then the fight for the dream world began.