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“Librarian?” I guessed.
“Yes. The books are safe. Come this way.”
Not having a better idea, Nic and I followed the ghost. We kept our eyes on her, which helped us stagger through the museum.
Finally, the ground returned to the normal polished granite, and the exhibits normalized. We picked up speed until she led us into some back rooms amongst stacks of ancient books and documents.
“You are safe here. The creatures cannot enter. Wait. I will get your friends.”
Tears leaking from my eyes, I collapsed to the ground and gasped for breath. Nic sank to his knees next to me and pulled me against his chest while I sobbed.
“Clowns are difficult to fight,” Nic offered. “Even in Nightmare. This one probably lives in the conscious realm. The vampires, too. It’s possible they’ve never even been to Nightmare. Especially powerful dreams can form right here in the conscious realm. Normally, we would recruit the more powerful Nightmares and Dreams loyal to the Dream realm to help keep creatures like this in check, or even return them to where they belong. Sometimes they get out of hand. I suspect most of the Nightmares here welcome the change. They’ll be freer to act however they want.”
“Well, if they are nightmares and dreams, it kind of makes sense that they’d want the freedom to run amok,” I forced out between sobs.
“Yes.”
“Why are we talking about this now?”
“Because only one of us can break down into tears, and you beat me to it.”
His admission startled a laugh from me. I nearly choked on my own spit, but I felt a lot better suddenly.
Nic hugged me and kissed my temple. “She found the others. They’re a little beat up, but they’re coming.”
“Thank you for protecting me,” I said, voice small.
“Of course, Ember. You’re my princess. I’ll do anything in my power to keep you safe.”
Robby and Geraint joined us after a few more minutes. Robby managed to look artfully disheveled, his wavy brown hair disarrayed, a thin cut across his cheek seeping blood, his shirt torn in just the right spot to look heroic, like some sort of romance novel hero. I snorted.
Geraint looked a little worse for the wear, a bruise discoloring his cheek, his shirt torn badly, splotchy patches of blood staining the ruined garment.
“Are you two okay?” I asked as soon as they came in.
They both nodded.
“Please tell me zombie vampire is really dust now.”
“The librarian finished off the zombie vampire,” Geraint replied, voice shellshocked.
“Oh, good.” I shivered.
“She also drove off the clown,” Robby supplied. “A very badass librarian.”
“Good.” I shifted off Nic, and we both got to our feet, just as the librarian appeared in the room with us.
“Quite the mess. You should be safe now, however.”
“Our deepest gratitude,” Nic said with a deep and regal bow. “How can we possibly repay you?”
The ghostly woman shook her head. “No need. All part of the job. We have a lot of work to do to repair the fabric of the museum. Perhaps you could leave, as you disrupt it, too. Come back tomorrow to finish your tour.”
“Thank you,” Nic said.
We left the records room the librarian had led us to. I noticed it looked a lot more like a modern storeroom than it had when we’d entered. Incongruously, the museum looked normal when we exited, with patrons slowly wandering from exhibit to exhibit. A few children darted around. It all seemed so ordinary.
“He warped reality around us, but actual reality remained untouched,” Nic said.
