VII

In Dream World, the forest could hardly be divided from the meadow itself. The fog was increasing. Morgana heard a distant ticking. 'I need to find Gosalyn, feel her, I need to imagine and transport myself to her.' She used the same magic spell she had performed in a test long ago. It fabricated a kind of imaginary compass or symbol that could guide you, depending on how the spell related to the environment.

At first, Morgana presumed it hadn't worked because when she opened her eyes, nothing was there. When she continued to walk though, she came to a fork in the road in what appeared to be the forest already. It was awfully quiet: no birds, no bugs, no wind. In the centre of the fork, an hour glass was standing. She knew that she hadn't fabricated this herself. Nodoff - or someone else maybe? – had to be behind this. The sand in the top glass was only filled half, meaning that she was running out of time. She wondered what it referred to. The moment that Gosalyn would be sucked into Dream World forever? Or the moment until Morgana herself would be so exhausted and would remain trapped in her subconcious?

Stuck to the hour glass was a wayward sign telling her to go right. Morgana believed it and also detached the sign from the hour glass with a little magic. Maybe it was one of those imaginary sign posts that changed its words the further you went down the road; she sure hoped so. Behind it, on the golden skeleton of the hour glass where she'd removed the sign, she saw the name of her mother. It was carved in the gold like it was nothing but a signature. Her subconscious was probably speaking to her, Morgana believed, but for a moment she found it hard to breathe and wondered if maybe mom was still watching over her approvingly. 'God, I'm getting old, sentimental. No need.'

She took the sign. The right road meandered through the forest a long time but never changed its direction. Eventually, in front of a crossroad, Morgana used more imaginative magic on it. It flew from her fingers in little sparks and in response, the sign started to morph. The by-product was that it not only changed its word but also spoke it and told a bit more. It was nice to have a companion though. Kind of freaky it sounded a bit like Launchpad though.

They had a long way to go. After a while, the remarks about Hungry Hippo and flight machines became a bit tedious. She should have known immediately that it wouldn't take her to see Gos but LP instead. His plane was stranded in the forest. He was repairing it and only noticed her when she coughed. That's when the sign vapourized in her hands. She looked up and right before her eyes the forest tree had changed and suddenly looked like apartment buildings. In that bizarre version of Saint Canards, with grey trees that had windows in them and a dried out river in the far distance, Morgana approached Launchpad, hoping she could hitch a ride. There was something odd about him she couldn't place. It felt natural, like dreams do so often when you are actually standing in the wrong setting or talking to a person that looks nothing like the one you have in mind. She couldn't put her finger on it; all she knew was that this wasn't Nodoff and that she was perhaps venturing further into her subconscious than she should. The ring grew tighter around her finger.

0

One day, we'll get married. Dark was pretty sure of that, he always had been. He never spoke about his hopes and dreams for her but here, in the desert, he was constantly reminded of her presence. She wasn't there, but he felt he was looking for her.

'No, for Gos,' he constantly had to remind himself. 'For Nodoff. I got to stay cool, got to find him.' After miles of sand, he came across a bit of water and a palm tree. The typical scenery you see in a tourist brochure or maybe an old-fashioned cartoon where you run out of water when you need it the most. He thought it would be a trick, that he would bow down and grasp sand. Instead, the water made a kind of whirlpool and showed familiar shapes. In the oasis he saw her reflection instead of his. She was wearing a ring, playing with it. Marriage, he thought, is she having one of those dreams again?

He remembered the last time he'd been stuck in Dream World with her, how the most pleasant thing she could think of was having a family life with him. It kind of freaked him out. He was a loner, always had been. He was unsure if he could take care off her and Gos, he was unsure if she was right for him. She had still been a villain back then - a charming one, but a villain nonetheless. Now that he had gotten to know her and she had sworn of her evil ways, he could imagine that dream as well. Sometimes, he woke up and it seemed that he had shared it. He vaguely remembered her white dress and the flowers she carried. Gosalyn, their bridesmaid, along with Morgana's pets, were happy for them and hugged them. It left a sweet taste. Yes, nowadays he always assumed they would be together at some point. It would be hard, there was no denying that, and he would have to learn to be even less self-centered, but she always brought out those qualities he never knew he had. Just like Gosalyn did.

Morgana played with the ring and talked to someone. Launchpad, maybe? But how could he reach her? He leapt in, toes first, and then went in altogether. It was a little bit like flying.

0

Nodoff will find me, Morgana thought. He's part of my subconscious but he's invading it, creeping in.

'Launchpad, can you bring me to Gosalyn, do you know where she is?' Launchpad felt off. Did he work for Nodoff? For her? Was he a figment of Dark's imagination?

'I know where she is,' he nodded. 'I can bring you, but we need to stop at the Hungry Hippo first. Also, my plane is broken.'

'Don't worry about that,' she said. She repaired it quickly, one magic touch and it transformed. That was her expertise and she felt good sharing it. Launchpad did not seem amused though. He shook his head.

'You know I hate you, Morgana, right? That magic thing you do? I don't trust you.'

'What?'

'I dislike you monsters, the whole lot of you. There's no good in any of you. It's no wonder DW always cuts you off when anything happens.'

'I'm sorry? Are you playing tricks on me again?'

'I'm his room mate, his best friend, I know what's best for him and Gosalyn. And that sure as hell isn't you. We were doing fine but you always bring in this unnecessary emotional, magical baggage. You always want to be this kind of super girl, helping out, this kind of Justice Duck. Well, guess what, you can't even do a spell right anymore.' He was looking less and less like Launchpad and more and more green-gray, like any minute he'd shed off his feathers to reveal a green-gray ghoul skin.

'You are me. You are my insecurity again, talking.'

'You know that I hate you. This is the real me talking, what I've always felt. Come on, you knew all along. When did I ever make you feel welcome? Get you coffee when you came over? Never, right? I avoid you as much as I can. I don't want to bound with you, even if you want it badly, even if you talk to me, ask me how my night with DW was. You fake interest but I'll tell you what: You'll never part of our family.'

'Stop it. Stop talking to me.' Outthink him, outthink him. All she could think of was a simple wish. She wished he'd disappear, that he'd change his attitude, that he'd morph. He remained static. First rule of magic, stay calm, like teach always taught you. Stay calm, Morgana.

'I work for Nodoff, you think? Maybe. Maybe I'm just clingy.' Launchpad took his toolbox into the plane.

She envisioned him getting sucked into the ground. Didn't work. She whispered a few spells of imaginative magic to repel unwanted figments. They seemed to do the trick. Launchpad seemed to be feeling nauseous and reached out to his stomach. It turned into a black hole.

'I think I'll leave. I know where Gosalyn is, but I don't think I want to tell you.' The engine started. Morgana zapped the plane again. 'You are not leaving.'

'Watch me.' The black hole was expanding.

'Give me information, tell me where she is.'

'Never.' Launchpad, the thing that vaguely resembled him, turned blacker and more like the shadow of the plane.

'Morgana?' Darkwing's voice sounded nearby. Morgana turned around. He was standing in front of her, all of the sudden, looking at the plane. 'Funny, for a minute I thought I'd heard Launchpad.'

'Just the dreams talking,' she looked out him thoroughly.

What was left of Launchpad and hadn't been consumed by magic yet was still able to communicate. 'Let her go, DW. It isn't Morgana. Come with me, I'll take you to Gosalyn and far away from this place.' With every word he gained more colour. Darkwing's belief in him must be feeding him. It sickened Morgana. She was ready to cast another spell.

'Don't trust him,' she said softly. 'He's tricking you and me both.'

'Does he work for Nodoff?'

'I'm not sure, but he's at least a hostile element of our imagination.'

'I told you, DW, getting a girlfriend is not a good idea. They always talk into you. I'm a good figment, the trustworthy one, your best friend. I can get you to Gosalyn just like that.' Geez, he was convincing for a shadow, wasn't he? 'You ran into her more than once here, right? How can you be sure it really is her?'

'How can I be sure you can be trusted, LP?'

'I can tell you that Nodoff locked Gosalyn in a comic she loves, that she is playing a young heroine nonstop. She's saving the world, just like her dad. She's so happy. We'll take her back, of course, but I wish you could see her now, she's so-'

'Oh, give us a break! You trapped the kid!' Morgana cried out. 'I can see right through you.'

'Morgana, stop, don't work your magic on him!' He spread his arm to stop her. 'Okay, where is she?'

'Come with me.'

'He's tricking us, don't you see?'

'But Morg, what if this is our only chance to find her?'

'She's not Morgana,' he said. 'She wants to prevent you from finding Gos. It's Nodoff talking, don't you see?'

She zapped him before Darkwing could reply, whispering in a short spell that all her negative projections had to leave, that she wanted to form their surroundings, their dream.

'Come find me when you are done,' the shadow of Launchpad still managed to whisper. That's when he disappeared altogether and their surroundings changed into a rather empty black scenery. There were some windows lit in the distance. Morgana could see the outline of his hideout, at least, she presumed as much when she noticed towers. They were silent for some time, walked through the blackness, two lost, blind lovers looking for a night light.

'Morg, is it really you?' He touched her cheek lovingly.

'Yes, yes, ask me a question, anything.'

'I need to make sure we can outwit my subconscious and yours, they're constantly cheating on us. A meta-question, maybe. Why are we here?'

'To find Gosalyn, stop Nodoff and seal the door to Dream World, maybe even permanently.'

'Yes, exactly, fair enough, but Launchpad also knew that. If he is a figment as you think, he's pretty damn clever. Tell me something new, something only you know.'

'Your worst nightmare is not being a hero anymore; it's been your obsession, your job for such a long time. It defines you. It defines you so much you depend on it and come across as arrogant, but not to me, I get what you're doing. I've seen it at the magical academy so often. You remind me of me in that sense, you know. You hate cooperation, because your job matters so much to you and you want to do it so perfect. You can't tolerate a single flaw and you feel you need to pull through all on your own, build strength, strategies, use your little gadgets just in time. It's never enough. In the end, you know it's necessary to involve others.'

'That's rich,' he said but she saw he knew it was more or less true, maybe a bit harsh, but true.

'Guess you like getting credit for what you do. It gives you this sense that you are on the right path, that you're really doing good instead of, God forbid, wasting your life.'

'Morg, you sound more like a shrink than a lover.'

'You told me enough and I know your heart well-enough, Dark. Need more? You love reading prose and inspiring your catchphrases on it. We flipped through a few of my novels a week ago.'

'Yes, we did. Makes my drama seem a bit kitsch, huh?'

She touched his hand briefly. 'Not to me. And you know I'm me, because you love me, you know I'm not you talking or Nodoff. Dark, you love me as much as you fear me. That's why you don't want me to be a villain ever again. You told me once, a few months back, that you thought I had real powers and could outdo you and that sometimes, you had problems dealing with that. But that you loved me so much that you - '

'Ssssh,' he said. 'I believe you. Plus, my subconscious would probably never invent you with a ring, your subconscious on the other hand – anyway, why is that?'

'It's mom's, a token, in case I start to forget I'm dreaming.'

'Very convincing,' he nodded. 'It's you, I know you are. Okay, ask me something.'

'Hm, difficult. I shouldn't ask you about me because you would know everything about me, if you were me. If you know what I mean. So something clever, hm, who'll wake you up when something goes wrong?'

'Archie. And we are waiting for information on Nodoff and dream ghouls. It's almost like an episode of Duckie: The Vampire Hunter.'

'Sounds solid to me, Dark, dearest. I guess you could still be part of my dream scape but I'll buy into this for now.' She kissed him. 'I'll know when you're lying anyway.'

'That weird version of Launchpad left,' Dark sulked. 'What do we do now?'

'Did you notice your hideout in the distance?'

'Of course I did, Morgana!'

'I'm sure he's there and if not, that we can find clues about where Gosalyn is. In our subconscious, certain things function in the same way as in real life – maps, signs, your gadgets, the plane. They are signals. Even if they malfunction, I can manipulate them.'

'And then we'll stop that no-good Nodoff's naughty ways and defeat his deliberate dream doings for good!'

'The walk is a bit long though. Allow me to imagine us a means of transport.' She succeeded rapidly, had gotten the hang of this imaginative magic. It was no different than transforming things in real life except that you really had to believe it, mean it even more. In that sense, the costs were higher.

Out of the black shadows a black gondola emerged. It rode them to the tower. They didn't even need to do anything. It had no paddles or engine, it just meandered there. They passed some figments of Morgana's imagination but not too many. They all stood on the shores, waiting for them. When she mentioned this to Darkwing, it turned out he saw his own family and acquaintances. Morgana had expected their dreams to merge but apparently some parts of Dream World would still be subjective. In a way, this scared her. What other schisms and inconsistencies would appear in this world? And what was covered up by that black void they crossed? Swirls of fog surrounded the vessel as if they were venturing into the white clouds again.

Her hand reached out to the absent water that they floated on. Its blackness stuck to her fingers like ink only to vanish moments later. The line between the conceptual and the magical, the subjective and the objective, suddenly seemed so thing. It seemed to her that they were drifting through language rather than through actual memories, that they had unraveled a knot of experiences or maybe even expression. Just words, really, that needed to be voiced in order to be re-imagined.

At the end of the ride, they reached a whirlpool instead of the shores. Her first thought was loosing him. His last was that he had lost her. There was only a moon, far above them, and slender white fingers slipping through his.