‘Where have you been?’ asked Cy.
‘Where have I been?’ said the dwarf.
‘Hanging around waiting for you, mate. You lead such lives in this time level. Frantic isn’t the word. I’ve been trying to get a word in edgewise for aeons.’
‘Several days actually,’ said Cy.
‘Days?’ repeated the dwarf. ‘Oh I see. You mean the “sun-up, sun-down” thing. Time doesn’t work like that.’
‘How does it work, then?’ asked Cy.
‘It doesn’t work at all,’ said the dwarf. ‘It just is. Look, never mind,’ he went on quickly, ‘you wouldn’t understand.’
‘Yes I would.’
Cy knew that adults often said ‘you wouldn’t understand’ when they couldn’t be bothered to go into details. He quoted his Grampa: ‘Understanding relies on things being properly explained.’
The Dream Master gave him a strange look. ‘You know, Einstein said the exact same thing to me last time I saw him.’
‘You met Einstein!’
‘We were playing chess,’ said the dwarf. ‘I was winning, if you must know,’ he added smugly.
‘You beat Einstein at chess!’ said Cy.
‘Well,’ said the dwarf. ‘It was my dream. Anyway, let’s get on. I came back because I made a promise, but I have to tell you that I’ve got a bad feeling about that Ancient Egyptian dream. I think you’d be much better off in a new one which I can create for you.’ He opened up a laptop which had just materialized on his knees. ‘Now let me see what’s on for tonight . . .’ He fiddled with the keyboard. ‘I could do you a rather thrilling adventure with Alexander the Great.’
‘No thanks,’ said Cy.
‘Alien invaders?’ the dwarf suggested. ‘There’s a good programme called “Beat the Bullies”. You could destroy the Mean Machines.’
Cy thought for a moment. ‘No. Thanks all the same.’
The dwarf frowned at his screen. ‘How about leading Hannibal across the Alps? No? Mmm? Fight at Waterloo? Hold on while I check who’s winning at present. Oh no, that’s too awful. Ummm . . . meet Queen Victoria? Wait! I know. Let’s take part in some “Gruesome Gladiator Games” . . . a visit to Ancient Rome.’
‘Ancient Egypt,’ said Cy firmly.
The dwarf was getting impatient. ‘Starring role in Coronation Street? Three episodes.’
Cy shook his head.
‘Present Blue Peter?’ said the dwarf.
‘I’ve got a life,’ said Cy.
‘A Star Wars spectacular,’ said the dwarf. ‘And that’s my final offer.’
Cy hesitated. ‘No,’ he said at last.
‘What!’ cried the dwarf. ‘I know people who would kill for that. Are you actually telling me that you do not want to be a Jedi knight?’
‘Not at the moment,’ said Cy.
‘Princess Leia would be tremendously grateful,’ coaxed the dwarf. He glanced upwards. Cy followed his gaze. Princess Leia smiled down from his bedroom ceiling. Cy heard the tapping of the Dream Master’s keyboard. The princess lifted her laser gun and one of her coiled plaits tumbled across her shoulder. With an imperious gesture she dismissed Han Solo and Luke Skywalker. Her huge dark eyes sent a plea across the galaxies.
‘Help me, Obi-Cy Kenobi,’ she called. ‘You’re my only hope—’
‘Don’t do that,’ said Cy sharply.
The dwarf snapped his laptop closed. ‘I could make you appear as one of the BearBoyz,’ he said nastily.
Cy shuddered. ‘Look,’ he said. ‘I want to go back to Ancient Egypt.’ He paused. ‘I have to go back.’
The Dream Master gave Cy a searching look from beneath bushy eyebrows. ‘Why did you say “have to”?’
‘I’m not sure,’ said Cy. He thought about the boy in the wall frieze who had the same haunting eyes as the boy he had seen in his dream. ‘I think there is something there that I must sort out.’
‘Oh-oh,’ said the dwarf. ‘The last time I got into this kind of bother was with a fellow by the name of Rip van Winkle. He completely exhausted me. This sounds like trouble.’
‘Trouble?’
‘Yes. Trouble. Twenty types of trouble – double-mixed,’ said the dwarf. ‘You shouldn’t be able to sort out anything in a dream. Humans don’t have the power to control their dreams.’
‘But this is my dream,’ Cy complained. ‘You said it was different.’
‘Exactly,’ said the dwarf. ‘Which means I have to let you be in charge.’
‘I shall be a Dream Master like you!’ said Cy.
The Dream Master laughed a scornful laugh. ‘Absolutely absurd! It would take a particular powerful force for you to ever get anywhere near to my level. But,’ he hesitated, ‘in this one instance, yes, you will have a sort of mastery over your dream.’
‘Well, let’s go!’ said Cy.
‘You have no experience,’ said the Dream Master. ‘It could be tricky.’
‘So?’ said Cy.
‘If something goes wrong . . .’
‘But dreams always go wrong,’ Cy protested. ‘Things happen all over the place.’
‘How dare you!’ said the dwarf. ‘It requires tremendous skill being a Dream Master. Your dreams may seem a trifle . . . er . . . disconnected at times but that is due to the peculiar way human minds function.’
‘Well, my dream will be perfectly logical,’ said Cy.
‘Oh really.’ The dwarf snorted. ‘Just remember, at all times you must do exactly as I tell you.’
‘Of course I will,’ said Cy.
‘Immediately I say it?’
‘Instantly.’
‘Promise?’
‘Promise.’
‘It’s the only way that I can be sure that nothing will go wrong,’ said the dwarf.
‘Nothing will go wrong,’ said Cy, uncrossing his fingers behind his back.
‘Well, let’s find out, shall we?’ The Dream Master stood up. ‘Take hold of a corner of my cloak, and do not let go.’
Cy rubbed his eyes. The dwarf was becoming smaller and smaller on his pillow, yet the Dream Master’s cloak was growing. It billowed out like a great wave and enveloped Cy completely. The silky material was like black wind. Wind and water rushing past his face, fanning his hair, streaming out beside him and through him. Now it was racing ahead of him through a sky of spinning stars. Time itself moved, flowing towards him and then, changing direction, it began to accelerate away. Suddenly Cy remembered the dwarf’s instruction. He leapt forward and, with a desperate grab, he clutched onto the tail-end of the Dream Master’s cloak.