A/N: At last! I won't labor you with the details of why this took so long... :-p But I WILL promise that I will never again take this long to post a chapter. ^_^;;;

Now, on with the story. :-)


Chapter Three: Nightmare

Jeffrey lamented. His head hurt.

Slowly he sat up. As he did, a warm breeze ruffled the air and beckoned the long grass- the same golden color of his hair- to wave and sway. The sky above- the same pale blue-green as his eyes- hung above like a canopy, without a cloud.

Jeffrey wondered if he was dreaming. He pinched his arm.

he exclaimed again, slapping his hand over the self-inflicted pain.

He stood up.

The flat land stretched out for about fifty feet in front of him after which it fell off into a curtain of white light. The precipice, as far away as it was, made Jeffrey apprehensive, and he backed up away from it.

Right into a pole.

Jeffrey yelped, expecting for some reason he couldn't explain to go plummeting off the edge. But when he found he was still standing, he turned around.

The sign read WELCOME TO KAMIANT.

But it was the scene beyond the sign that caught the young boy's attention.

Jeffrey's eyes bulged with excitement and he took off, running around the sign through the grass to where a towering ferris wheel rose before him. Booths of games stood in an inviting line off to the left, and at the end of the row stood a low, squat- and very out of place- brown building.

Perhaps the strangest thing about the carnival was that there seemed to be no one around. The grass had never even been disturbed.

Hello there, Jeffrey.

The voice belonged to a large, friendly-looking man in striped pants and a red coat, who'd stepped out from behind the ferris wheel, holding a bunch of elephant-shaped balloons.

We've been waiting for you.

*

Picky Minch removed his half-moon reading glasses and rubbed his eyes. They felt exceedingly bleary after hour after hour of work.

Need sleep, he muttered, and laid his head down on the desk. He had barely begun to nod off when he heard Patrick come back into the room.

Did you finish the model? he heard his former college roommate ask.

Picky made a sound. Need sleep, he repeated.

Did you finish the model?

Picky raised his head, hoping the other man could see the dark circles under his eyes, Yes, Ricky, I finished the model.

And I finished up the plans. Dr. Andonuts is gonna be here in less than an hour, Ricky said- he'd been counting down the minutes since two weeks ago.

So why don't you let me sleep, Picky asked, And make myself a little more presentable?

...Good point.

Picky flopped down on the desk again, instantly asleep.

*

Tonight, on Hidden Conspiracies'... The mystery of The Desert Golem. Five individuals tell of their encounters with this fabled desert dweller. Who made this man of stone, and why? All this and more tonight on-

Ness flicked the radio off with a smirk. It was only too often he and Paula heard bits of their story being analyzed by the . If only they knew.

He sighed, a bit exasperated. He'd been at this for hours and the article still wasn't finished. Maybe his mind just wasn't in the right place at the moment.

Suddenly he froze. In a split second, he'd leapt from his chair and flattened his back against the wall, his breath accelerated.

The room was empty. Odd. That sensation he'd had was just like the one he used to have, when an enemy had been sneaking up on him from behind.

Taking one more careful look around- and out the window, just to make sure- Ness finally decided that everything was hunky dory, and set back down to his work, where he'd stopped in the middle of a sentence.

Something still was wrong, though. That gentle tug- just noticeable enough to be irritating- at the back of his neck still persisted.

Ness leaned forward on his desk, his head in his hand, one index finger tapping his forehead. He typed a word. He erased it.

God damn it, he said rather loudly, then inwardly kicked himself for swearing so loud. Jeffrey might have heard it.

It was only then that Ness realized how quiet it was.

he called, finally giving in and turning in his seat. You down there, buddy?



Then Ness stood, heading quickly for the door, for the stairs. He descended into the living room, taking a look around.

The basement door was open.

Ness felt a sudden, distinct sinking feeling in his gut. If Jeffrey was down there... What was he going to tell him? What was he going to tell Paula?

he called out, walking to the edge of the stairs,

Ness' son lay sprawled out on the gray stone floor of the basement, his head flung back, his arms askew. He was unconscious.

Ness exclaimed, completely forgetting about the kicking himself, and raced down the stairs, Shit, shit, shit! Jeffrey! Approaching his son, he saw that the soccer ball lay not far off. Jeffrey must have chased it down the stairs and fallen...

But wait... what was that in his hand?

*

WHEEEEEEEEE-OOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!

The victory siren rang out as Jeffrey knocked over the pyramid of milk bottles. The man in the red jacket- who had introduced himself as Mr. Carnie- took a stuffed animal from the booth and gave it to Jeffrey.

But the boy did not seem pleased.

This is boring, he said.

Well, if you're bored with playing games, you could always go somewhere else, Mr. Carnie suggested.

Where else is there to go? Jeffrey asked.

Mr. Carnie laughed. Why, my boy, he said, This land belongs to you! Don't you know that? It's only as large as your very imagination. Smiling warmly, he touched the boy on the nose. And you can go wherever you like.

Jeffrey asked. He didn't seem to comprehend.

Mr. Carnie answered.

Jeffrey took a little look around. There didn't seem to be much outside the carnival that he could see- if there was anything, it was going to take a awfully long time to get to it.

Then his eyes fell on the bland brown building at the end of the row of games.

I wanna go in there, he said.

*

Jeffrey? Jeffrey? Jeffrey, wake up!

Letting fall the prospect of shouting at his son, Ness reached out and grasped the Sound Stone, starting to pull. Perhaps if he had once pulled the Stone from the hand of his younger self, he could pull it from his son's.

But Jeffrey had a bit of Paula's blood in him, too, and Ness found that it was not quite as easy to get the Stone loose. Soon little Jeffrey's torso was lifted halfway off the ground as Ness pulled, trying to apply as much force as he could without hurting his son.

Then the Stone came loose. Lightning bolts ran through Ness' body and he stumbled back into the table, knocking the small jar of desert sand off the table. Glass shards scattered across the floor, and the sand spilled out like water.

Carefully, Ness laid the Stone back on its spot on the table, breathing through his teeth and wincing at the pain. Holding his forearm, he took a look at the palm of his hand. It was burnt.

But now what was he supposed to do? Ness suddenly realized what he'd just done had been useless. Taking the Stone from his younger self hadn't woken him up. Jeffrey wouldn't come back from his Magicant- or whatever his was called- until he was ready.

Ness took a look at his watch. 4:53. Paula wouldn't be home for some time. He breathed a bit easier, and then turned his eyes back to Jeffrey. The boy was still out cold.

Ness stood there, and watched.

At 5:14, the sound of a sob broke loose from Jeffrey's lips. Soon, he was full-on weeping, and sat up, tears streaming down his face.

Relieved- yet, at the same time, still worried- Ness kneeled down by his son. he said, hugging him, It's ok, Jeff. Daddy's here.

I had a nightmare, Jeffrey sobbed.

A nightmare? Ness asked, his eyebrows lifted a bit. What had Jeffrey seen? What was it about?

Jeffrey pulled away a bit from his father, wiping his nose.

...I don't remember, he said slowly.

Ness smiled uneasily.

he said, taking his son's hand, Let's go upstairs.

And up they went- forgetting the soccer ball.