1. House Number 14


The pale gentleman stormed out of the public house, the blood gem on his tie pin aglow.

"Change yer mind, then?" called the lady resting against the wall, face scarred by the pox. "Always come back, they do." Her dreams tasted of opium and regret, a foundling left at church steps.

He walked past her curses.

A raven alighted on his shoulder, black beady eye studying him while a mouse tail disappeared down her beak. Wisely, she said nothing.

"Do I seem lonely, Jessamy?"

"No, sire," said the raven. "Why else would you collect raven companions?"

The gem flared. "I am not in a jesting mood, Jessamy. Perhaps it is time to collect anew."

"Poe would make a good candidate, sire. Have you read him?"

"I am Prince of Stories. All stories begin in my realm."

"So you've read him?"

Morpheus coughed. "Not specifically. He dreamed often of his father."

"Adoptive father," said Jessamy, watching the gem cool.

"You were human before his time," said Morpheus. "How is it you have read him?"

Jessamy sighed. "You'd be surprised how often young men quote his work when they see me, if there are ladies nearby."

"The companions provide a mortal perspective," said Morpheus. "I have found it to be useful in discharging my responsibilities."

"As in that Doyle story," said Jessamy, "a Watson to your Holmes."

"Perhaps," said Morpheus. "To suggest I would require anything more…"

"Anthropocentric," said Jessamy. "Even among immortals you are in a class of your own. But you are not alone in that class. It's like that mad sun-god Aten, trying to murder his whole pantheon so he could be the only one. You were meant to be social."

"Have you met my family?" said Morpheus.

"Some," said Jessamy. "Your sister turned me into a butterfly. Not the insect, the dairy product."

"They can be… difficult," said Morpheus. "I may have peers, but befriending a mortal would be…"

"A human befriending an ant?," said Jessamy. "On the other hand, you just coughed back there, when you needn't breathe. You needn't even have a mouth."

"Mortals of this time and place have mouths, and breathe, and wear top hats," said Morpheus. "It is but a mask."

"I have a theory," said Jessamy. "I don't think there's any true you behind that mask. I think you are the Dream of humans in top hats, and the Dream of trolls under bridges, and the Dream of billy goats trying to cross. And maybe in some faraway realm you are the Dream of solitary creatures that seek no companionship. But humans and trolls and billy goats do. And so, in part, do you."

"Bridge trolls tend to be territorial," said Morpheus. "But I see you have given this some thought."

"Sustaining a unilateral friendship is exhausting," said Jessamy.

"I had not realized. I can only say…" Morpheus paused. "There is something wrong in the Dreaming."

"That is all you can say?" said Jessamy.

"Do you feel it?" said Morpheus.

"I feel someone trying to change the subject," said Jessamy.

"I fear we must postpone this conversation," said Morpheus, stopping. "There is an anomaly here."

Jessamy looked up at house number 14.

#

Morpheus climbed the steps and hit the knocker twice.

"Something in there is threatening the Dreaming and we're knocking?" said Jessamy. "Shouldn't we be getting your helm or something?"

"Let us first understand the situation," said Morpheus.

The door was opened by a young maid. She glanced at the raven, but seemed used to upper class eccentricity. "May I help you, sir?"

"I have business with the master of the house," said Morpheus, handing her coat, hat and cane.

"I'm not sure… of course, please come in," she said, leading them upstairs.

The nursery window was open despite the night chill. The beds were empty, the toys neatly arranged. A great Newfoundland dog with a nurse's cap slept on the rug while its owner slept in its kennel.

"Guest for Mr. Darling," the maid murmurred before retreating.

The lady in the armchair stood to greet them. "My apologies, sir, George didn't tell me he was expecting company. And this ordeal has taken such a toll on us all."

"It is I that beg your pardon, madam," said Morpheus looking around the room. "Can you tell me what happened? Perhaps I can be of assistance."

"He took them," said Mrs. Darling, collapsing back in the armchair. "He took our children."

"Who did?"

"Peter Pan," said Mrs. Darling, tearing up. "Flew them right out the window. If I'd listened to Nana," she added, turning to the dog. "If I'd left his shadow outside. If only..."

"I think the technical term is wacko," said Jessamy.

Mrs. Darling was not alarmed by a talking raven. Morpheus held her chin and looked into her eyes. "She is not in my sister's realm."

"You sure?" said Jessamy. "She's doing a pretty good impression."

"There are boundaries between the Waking and the Dreaming," said Morpheus. "The boundary has frayed. She lies stranded somewhere in between."

Mrs. Darling brushed his hand away. "I assure you, sir, this was no dream. Though I would dearly have wished it." She produced a skeleton leaf crumpled by worry. "It is still as green as the day they were taken. It is not of this world."

Morpheus examined the leaf. "Indeed it is not, madam. I must depart immediately."

"Can you find them?" asked Mrs. Darling.

"Perhaps, madam."

"Can you really do it?" Jessamy asked when they were back on the street.

"The children are most likely lost to the Dreaming or to the void between," said Morpheus.

"Oh," said Jessamy. "Case closed, then?"

"The tear is growing," said Morpheus. "It threatens both the Dreaming and the Waking. It must be stopped."

"It will be just like the Doyle story!" said Jessamy. "Do you think this Pan did it?"

"A local sprite, perhaps, or simply part of her fantasy," said Morpheus. "Whoever it was, they were strong enough to pierce the boundary."

"Can the leaf lead us to them?"

"It is part dream, part real," said Morpheus. "From a rather large tree, it would seem. I will disappoint you by asking the obvious: is there a park nearby? You lived here, once."

"Might as well have been a different continent," said Jessamy, looking down the street. "There's Kensington Palace, I hear they've opened the gardens to the public. I'd like to see what old King George would've said to that!"

#

The Gardens were locked for the night. Jessamy flew over the gate while Morpheus walked through it.

"Can you match the leaf to a tree?" asked Jessamy.

"No need," said Morpheus. "We are being watched."

"Really?" said Jessamy, looking around suspiciously. "Is it the trees?" she whispered.

"No, most of these are perfectly non-sentient," said Morpheus. "But I believe you are scaring them. Please wait by the gate."

"They fear the bird but not the man walking through metal bars?" said Jessamy.

"In this case, yes," said Morpheus.

"Suit yourself," said Jessamy, flying off.

Morpheus strolled alone down the path.

"Halt!" cried the fairy lancer, brandishing holly leaves. "No trespassing after Lock-out Time!"

"Sentinel," Morpheus said with the ring of wind chimes. He flexed dark leaf-like wings, the red jewel on his neck aglow. Even no more than a thumb-length in height, his presence was undiminished. "I have business with the Regent of this Realm."

The lancer blinked a few times, but lowered the holly. The trespasser was clearly of the Blood. "Yes, milord."

Morpheus followed him through brushes and flower patches to a palace built of many-colored glasses. A fairy-ring had been set up in the lawn before it, pixies dancing under the winter cherry lanterns. Those sitting in the surrounding toadstools whispered and pointed as they passed. At the center of the supper table sat a pixie with silver wings and dress, dark hair tied in a bun.

"Your Majesty," said the lancer, kneeling. "A lord requests audience."

"No common lord, Sharpleaf," said the Queen, her expression carefully neutral. "It has been long since you last graced these halls, Moon Gardener."

"Indeed, Queen Mab," said Morpheus, bowing. "I thought your people had departed this realm."

"Some did," said the Queen, "Others chose to stay. We were here before Normans and Danes, Romans and Celts. We will be here when their stone houses are dust and the wilds reclaim the land. Why do you seek audience?"

"I come to request your assistance," said Morpheus. "Children have gone missing."

"Please," said the Queen. "It must be centuries since we replaced changelings in cradles."

"The mother blames one Peter Pan," said Morpheus.

The Queen considered this. "There was an orphan boy, once. A fine musician. Must be long dead by now."

"I see," said Morpheus. "Does your sister still hold my gift?"

"You would have to ask her yourself," said the Queen, pointing to the sky. "Second star to the right and straight on until morning."

"Thank you," said Morpheus.

"Lord Shaper?" said the Queen. "My sister left this realm heartbroken. It will not please her to see you."

#

"Second star to the right?" Jessamy cried atop the fence. "What kind of address is that? To the right of which one? Alpha Centauri?"

"The address is perfectly sufficient," said Morpheus, tracing the park gate with his finger. White fire sprouted in its wake. "She is in the Dreaming."

"Well, why didn't we just go there first?" said Jessamy.

"Our relationship ended on… difficult terms," said Morpheus. "She did not wish to be found. Perhaps I did not wish to see."

"And you think she's the one behind this?" said Jessamy.

"Possibly," said Morpheus. "You may cross."

"You want me to talk to your possibly vengeful former lover for you? Maybe we should just let reality fray."

"No, Jessamy," said Morpheus, crossing into the throne room. "I need you to retrieve the helm. It will shrink to your needs."

"That's what I've been saying all along, take that pixie by storm!"

"I cannot," said Morpheus, dropping a fine chain with a red gem into small pouch around Jessamy's neck. "She resides in a land I fashioned for children. I set certain restrictions on entry. I find these are closed against me."

"But you made these restrictions," said Jessamy. "Surely you can unmake them?"

"Given enough time, yes," said Morpheus, outlining a new portal in white, a tropical island within. "Time we do not have. I must leave most of my power at the door. I will solve this from the inside. Should I fail, I need you waiting on the outside."

"But while you're in there," said Jessamy. "Won't you be, I don't know, vulnerable?"

"Inasmuch as one of my kind can be said to be vulnerable," said Morpheus. "Yes, I suppose I will be."

"I see," said Jessamy. "Be careful, sire."

"Thank you, Jessamy," said Morpheus. He crossed over.