Chapter 5: Grassland

No… You're not Jesse…

Virgil didn't seem to care if he lost me among this rubbish wasteland as he weaved smoothly between piles of old toys and broken picture frames. Even though I wasn't sure where he was leading me, his speed was welcome if it got us to Susannah faster. At least ten paces ahead, he just whistled an unfamiliar tune and twirled his flute once more, not making any effort to talk to me again.

That suited me just fine. It left me to my thoughts.

From what I could gather from his ramblings, this place was not the land of the dead like I assumed it was. Honestly, that was a relief, but it only brought up more questions. Susannah was taken by Death – er, Thanatos – but apparently not dead. To find out why, we had to ask him. I hadn't forgotten that this intrigued Virgil enough to consider helping me.

Virgil himself was a complete mystery though. A kinder person would call him 'quirky.' Susannah would call him a 'crackpot.'

He seemed to know a lot more than he was letting on. Not that he hid what he knew, but apparently buried the real answer – if there was one – under mountains of other information.

I kept watch on his back as I thought and finally noticed something.

"Hey, Virgil, about this Favor of the Gods…" I held up the ruby and examined it for a moment. There was still no sign of its first impression of trying to strangle me, just glossy and slightly warm. "This is what's keeping me tethered here, right?"

Without looking back, he replied, "Sí, señor."

I continued, "What about you? You're solid too, but don't have one apparently."

"Me? This is my job. Very boring, usually," he said with an exaggerated sigh. "No idea how that Roman does it. No one actively comes through the Gate anymore. I have to amuse myself in other ways." I didn't want to know what those were.

"You didn't answer my question," I noted as he started skipping instead of walking. The bits of metal and wire were gradually giving way to more and more grass and other flora.

"Well, you didn't ask it properly," he countered.

When he didn't elaborate, I sighed and asked directly, "Are you human?" Virgil certainly looked human and mortal, but now that I was dealing with gods apparently, all bets were off. Not to mention he demonstrated at least a small inkling of supernatural powers.

"Human?" Once again, Virgil seemed genuinely astonished and stopped mid-skip. "I suppose I am. Maybe. What a difficult question. Never thought of it that way."

How could you not be sure about something like that? Perhaps he was somewhat like Dr. Slaski and stuck between waking and dreaming. That would explain his eccentricity. I decided to tread lightly just in case it was a sensitive subject.

So finally catching up with him on top of a hill, I brushed off the subject. "Never mind. Which way to Thanatos then?"

Even though there were still a few screws here and there, we seemed to be out of the wasteland. Somehow, whatever clouds hid the stars over the rusty landscape instantly stopped at the hill. Just to be sure, I looked behind me at the dark and foreboding junk heap and then forwards again, which was as bright as noon daylight.

From our vantage point, I could see an enormous lush meadow spread out before us, wild and unkempt as clumps of flowers, bushes, and the occasional tree grew sporadically as far as the eye could see. My ears caught faint rustling here and there, but I couldn't see what was making it.

I also couldn't see a river.

My supposed guide stretched lazily and said, "The god of death and all things gross like that can be found at his river view home. So, just go to the bank and follow it upstream."

I rubbed my temple in frustration. "What river?"

"Oh, you can't see it from here." He pointed at the shadowy edge of the horizon, "We still have to cross through a good portion of the Grassland of Dreams to even get to the woods. If we make it, the Nightmares are next and then the river."

As soon as he stopped talking, he headed down the hill again.

Following him, I asked, "How long will that take?" I didn't like the sound of that itinerary. That'd be at least an hour to the woods alone, judging by the terrain. Even then, my estimate may be a moot point here in the Land of Dreams.

Virgil looked at me curiously, "What, you mean like time-wise? Primary, Secondary, or Relative?" He held up a finger for each without giving an explanation. When all I did was stare blankly at him, he answered himself, "Relative, then." Holding up his hand to shield his eyes from the sunlight, Virgil looked outwards and replied, "Still a ways off. We haven't seen a single dreamer yet. How very odd."

He spoke too soon. There was an unexpected rumbling beneath our feet. By the time I could even begin to wonder what was going on, something very large, white, and hairy thundered out of the bushes and straight at me. Right before it struck me full on, I realized what it was.

A rabbit. A fluffy, giant, white rabbit the size of a car. Wearing a bowtie.

It head-butted and tossed me aside just like a rodeo bull. I instinctively shut my eyes, but after a very long few seconds, realization took over.

I hadn't hit the ground yet.

Looking around, I noticed two things. One, I was floating down instead of falling. Now, I had experimented with floating when I was a ghost – it's easy to get bored when you're dead – but got over the idea. Disappearing and reappearing was just must faster.

Two, Virgil, for the first time I had seen him, had his flute to his lips. He was playing so softly that I could barely hear it. It wasn't until I gently landed back on the springy grass that I caught the last few dulcet notes.

Still on the ground, I asked, "What was that?"

"That," he said, offering a hand up, "was a Dream. Children have the most nonsensical dreams which tend to be closer to the Gate. Fairly harmless but they have interesting imaginations."

I was a bit sore from the initial impact, but looked back at the bowtie-wearing giant rabbit which was causing great tremors as it hopped away quicker than I thought possible from an animal of that size. It seemed to be fleeing. Only then did I become aware of the crowd of child dreamers chasing it with carrots.

I sincerely wondered if I had such strange dreams as a kid.

"We should see a few more of those as we continue on," said Virgil as he helped me brush off a few bits of debris from my clothes. "Can't guarantee what form they'll be in though. There are all sorts of odd Dreams about here."

I asked desperately, "Is there a faster way to get there, besides what we're doing now?" I didn't like the idea of having to deal with these Dreams throughout the whole journey, especially if they all tried to run me down.

Virgil scratched his chin thoughtfully and a light bulb appeared above his head. Literally. Suddenly, he laughed and began to shimmer away like Paul did before.

"What you are doing!" I could only gape at him as he waved goodbye.

"Helping, of course," was all he said before he disappeared. The light bulb dropped and shattered on a rock.

I was alone.

I was alone and had no idea what to do.

Virgil had already told me, technically. Cross the grassland, then the woods, and the river should be beyond that. I didn't like the sound of those Nightmares though. I started to wonder what Virgil meant by 'helping.' Should I wait for him to come back or start towards the woods without him?

The feeling of time was muddled here and I hadn't any way of knowing how long it had been. My watch had stopped working at some point, presumably when I stepped into Nyx. Thinking of what might happen to Susannah, I decided to head forward. As a guide, Virgil was probably capable of finding me later.

Having lived – and died and lived again – only in California, I was feeling somewhat adventurous in this weird new place. Like its name, it certainly did just look like a giant patch of grass and field. Reminded me of the pastures at the ranch. The ranch, however, did not have daisies that easily rivaled the giant redwoods. What I thought were trees before turned out to be oversized flowers. And the more I looked, the more I noticed the little odd things about the grasslands. Like the fact that every once in a while, a bush would uproot itself and move five feet away to replant. Or that the same bush seemed to be blossoming blueberry muffins.

Treading through the grass that got gradually higher as I got closer to the woods, I stopped every once in awhile to look at a peculiar plant sprouting hardboiled eggs or touch the sticky, bristly trunk of a giant tulip.

I couldn't tell how much progress I was making since the underbrush ahead obscured my view of the horizon. I was prodding a familiar looking set of cymbal and drum frogs when I heard some rustling nearby. I didn't pay it much attention though as all sorts of odd things were around here. If it was a dreamer, I'd leave them alone. If it was another giant animal, I didn't want to catch its attention either.

When the frogs hopped away noisily, I started to wade further into the now knee-height long grass. In my way was another overly large hedge bush which I started to go around until I heard a growl and stood stark still.

There was a crunching of twigs underfoot as something enormous shifted out of sight. It was accompanied by a horrid rotting stench and deep guttural breathing. A pair of yellow, pupil-less eyes lumbered into view, just visible where the thick bush roots sank into the earth. It looked as if the rest of its body, hidden behind the leaves, was terribly hunched over and misshapen. The breathing got more ragged as I stared. It had spotted me.

Just then the thing let out another rumbling snarl and drew back, but not to retreat. It was getting ready to pounce. The stench intensified.

I threw up my arms and braced myself for whatever was coming, teeth, drool, or blood. Instead, there was a single sharp, deafening note. The noise made me clasp my hands to my ears and drop to my knees. As the sound gradually faded away and replaced by a ringing in my ears, I slowly raised my head again.

Virgil, who had mysteriously come back, was standing in front of me and facing the now empty hedge. I saw him lower the flute, which must've been the source of that piercing sound.

I got to my feet again, a bit shaky. "Was that another Dream?" I asked, already knowing the answer in my gut.

"No," said Virgil, concentrating on where the beast had been. "That should not have been anywhere near the grassland." He was silent, looking more serious than I had ever seen him. But just as soon as it came, he broke into a grin and said, "The yin to our yang. Necessary, but usually keeps to river or the outer edge of the woods. The real question is if it was a wildflower or a potted peony."

I sighed and muttered, "One day, you'll have to give me a straight answer."

"Even if I did, who says you'll notice it?" he piped back.

Sudden realization took over. "Where did you go? I thought you were my guide." I tried to keep my tone casual, even though I considered his disappearance as another sign of his unreliability. What if that thing had eaten me? I hadn't forgotten that he himself said that I could be hurt in Nyx.

But to my surprise, Virgil just smiled and said, "The local collective has something that'll take us to the woods much faster. You did want me to help, didn't you?"

"Oh… thank you," I answered lamely. Feeling guilty about my harsh judgment, I changed subjects, "What's a collective?"

"Multiple dreamers. They tend to form large scale communal dreams with interesting results." He untied a drawstring pouch he didn't have before from his belt and tossed it to me. Curious, I opened it and found an assortment of gummy bears and doubloons inside.

"Keep them for later. Never know when you could use some sustenance."

"Er, thanks." I decided I wasn't hungry enough to try dream food just yet, but tied the pouch to my belt anyway. It was best not to question where he got it or if it had anything to do with the thing that was going to help us travel faster. "So which way now?"

Virgil pointed in a direction slightly to the right of where we were going. Not directly towards the woods, but we could make up for lost time with whatever was at the collective.

It took me a moment to start walking again. Whatever that flute did, it affected me as well. As I was catching my breath, I looked at where the monster had been. Though I hadn't seen it entirely, it clearly wasn't something I wanted to meet again. I wasn't sure if it was something I could even fight. If Virgil hadn't been here…

"You can always go back, you know," Virgil said suddenly. He must've noticed my hesitance.

"No!" I took another unsteady step forward despite the ache in my knees. "She's… very important to me."

Virgil gave me a calculating stare before saying, "I saw that in your head. Very bold girl, this Susannah is. Reminds me of someone." Virgil suddenly looked like he ate a rotten piece of fruit. Noticing my puzzled expression, he explained, "Your Susannah is much prettier. But if you're certain you want to go on…"

"I'll do whatever it takes," I replied.

He seemed to find my answer amusing, but doffed his hat in an elaborate gesture and motioned for me to walk with him. "Shall we go then?"

A/N: You have three choices of excuses this week: 1) I didn't like the organization of this chapter. 2) Computer/Internet failure. 3) I am terribly fond of naps. Guess which one is the biggest culprit.

Anyway, yay for horrible monsters! There will be more of them, of course.

Next week is Chapter 6: Stowaway. Get on your eyepatch and pegleg, ya landlubber!