Mena tumbled through the darkness. Feeling quite dizzy and hopeless as she was spiraled into a black abyss of nothing, she didn’t even cry, only whimpered softly, waiting for the ensuing splatter. But it never came.

Instead, she landed on what seemed to be a bed of fluff in a dimly lit dungeon. She opened her eyes and looked down. It was an enormous pile of withered dreams, all discarded like a messy pile of brown marshmallows.

For a split second, she thanked every single person who had chosen to throw their dreams out, but she screamed in horror when she saw a burst of flames at the far end of the dungeon. It erupted like an evening sky, highlighting a terrifying silhouette on the wall. The shadow was humanoid but over nine feet tall, with ball-like joints and a large, circular, marble-like head. It let out a horrifying moan followed by a sickly wheeze, sounding like an ogre with horrendous head-cold as it threw its arms over its head. Plodding metal steps caused the floor to quake as it made its way towards Mena. The young witch had no idea what this beast was, but she would not spend a second longer waiting to find out. Picking herself up, she sprinted like her rear end was on fire to the far right of the pile, out of the monster’s path.

She had no idea where she was going; the only thing she could see were mammoth stone pillars. Obviously, they were the foundation of the Dream Castle. The behemoth was stomping behind her, heading in her direction. Mena prayed there would be a way to escape, but when she reached a dead-end wall, she knew her luck had run out…or did it? Mena looked down, and seeing a small hole in the wall, large enough to fit a person—sort of like a mouse-hole for humans—she crawled inside.

Mena could not believe what she found. In between several soup cans and boxes of Brahmen (musical ramen served by the Lollypop Labour Union in the cafeteria) was a bizarre drawing of a golden door etched in chalk. Below it, read the words, “What he doesn’t—does—know will hurt him.”

Mena figured this was Professor Gaia’s emergency bunker for the apocalypse but the door and especially the words below it fascinated her. So, she wasn’t the only one aware of this door? Apparently, Professor Gaia knew about it too. And who was the ‘he’ he was referring to? All Mena could think of was Gemini. In an instant, Mena forgot about the giant chasing her and how Ashlan had betrayed her, realizing the plot had thickened. What did an apocalypse professor want with a golden door that could grant the dreams of anyone who entered?

Mena sighed. Unfortunately, she would not be able to solve this mystery if she could never escape this bunker. “Oh well,” she said, her voice getting theatrical and pouty. “At least I can live on Brahmen and soup for the rest of my miserable life.”

“Um…pardon me?” A voice asked in a surprisingly, upper class accent. It was coming from outside.

Was there some kind of posh butler waiting below the golem? Mena carefully crawled back to the little mouse hole. Looking up nervously, there was nobody else but a hulking metal mass with several cragged teeth, dark hollow eyes sockets with orange lights inside them and most surprisingly, hands held timidly in front of his body.

“Would you by chance have a handkerchief?” the monster asked, again with a very reserved voice.

“W-why?” Mena squeaked.

“It’s terribly dusty down here. My sinuses are always inflamed.”

Mena was going to pass out from the absurdity of this situation. So, the big scary golem chased her down so he could…blow his nose.

“I think I’ve got some tissues,” Mena responded. “I haven’t gotten used to this atmosphere up here yet.”

“Me neither.” The giant said as he accepted a tissue from her hand.

“Oh, but where are my manners,” the giant bowed. “My name is Sir Rocksworth Bugglesby the III.”

He blew his nose and produced a noise that sounded like an army of tubas all deliberately playing the wrong note. It would have been hilarious if Mena wasn’t so tense.

“So, you’re not going to rip me apart, eat me and mutilate me?” Mena asked bluntly.

“Good heavens lady,” the giant responded with a jump in his voice. “I think you’ve got the wrong clan of golems. I hail from Steelfordshire up in the Northern Mountains. The golems who actually eat people are from Stonefordshire, a bit further down from us. You see, with this new coating of chrome, me and my people have advanced to the iron age. Those ruffians with rocks in their heads are still stuck in the stone age.”

“Unfortunately,” the golem continued. “The bad king Budaludicus has forced both us and the Stonefordshirians to his steel smelting plants for cheap labour! Such an uncouth way for a royal to behave, mixing us with that riff raff!”

“The plants?” Mena asked. “Then how come you’re up in this castle?”

“Well about that,” Sir Rocksworth began. “It is quite a long story…”

“I’ve got nowhere to go,” Mena responded, dismally. “I can hear you out…unless there’s a trap door out of here.”

“Nay, my good lass,” Rocksworth responded and boded her to come with him. “Only one way in and one way out: through the Dream Deposit. But come, and you can hear my tale!”

“But first,” Rocksworth said as he grabbed a shovel the size of seven Mena’s. “Perhaps I should show you what very few in this castle know.”

With another sickly wheeze, he dug his shovel into the enormous pile of withered dreams and staggered over to an enormous furnace with an open and closing lid shaped like a heart. Timing his shovel just right, Rocksworth tossed the dreams into the furnace which erupted with a joyful sizzle.

“This, my little lass, is what keeps the Dream Castle floating.”

“Miraculous Magicaps,” Mena exclaimed. “This castle is powered on dead dreams.”

“It’s very poetic, in a way,” Rocksworth said in his deep, but sophisticated voice. “Though I’m not terribly sure why.”

Mena smiled for the first time since she arrived in the Dream Deposit. She had never met a golem with such a moderate approach to life. (Not that she had met any at all.)

“So, I bet you’re wondering how I got here,” Rocksworth asked.

“I am,” Mena said.

“Well, it all begins at one of those accursed smelter mills. Budaludicus had put in an order for a seaside restaurant-resort for himself and Queen Victoria. And unless we wanted to be melted down ourselves, we had to labor endless until it was finished.”

The golem continued, “It was a hot day in the mill and my joints were aching for some grease, but they wouldn’t let me have any. Right when I was ‘bout to rust, a dashing, wily fellow appeared above me, offering some blessed grease and a deal I could not refuse.”

“‘How would you like to work at a unionized job,’ the man said with a painted face and twinkling eyes. ‘With actual benefits and safety precautions?’”

“And sure, that might sound a bit dull to a young lass like you,” Rocksworth responded to Mena, “but to me, it was like an iron clad angel descended upon me. And well, I agreed, and a little man with a big rainbow hat appeared at his knees. He signed the first Steelfordshirian into the Lollypop Labour Union.”

“But how did you escape?” Mena asked.

“That my little lass,” the rock golem said, “Is the titillating part of the story, and I asked the dashing gent just that. Gemini jumped on the smelter and began fashioning iron. ‘Smelting is just like dreaming,’ he told me. ‘If you can dream it, you can do it.’”

Mena’s eyes illuminated in the darkness and so did her smile.

“Soon the iron began shapely, curvaceous and nubile, and before I knew it, a towering pair of iron lady legs stood before me.’”

“Gemini quickly pumped out a cast iron hairdo, steel hoops and a sheet metal dress,” Rocksworth said as Mena smiled. “Before I knew it, this iron bloke had a total renovation.”

Mena could not help but giggle at the thought of a 9-foot iron bloke in metal drag. Her body warmed itself in the icy temperatures of the basement with her mirth.

“Gemini himself,” Rocksworth said, “wittily observed, ‘For some reason, men get really excited over things that look remotely like a woman. Now remember lad, keep it swanky and a little bit cheeky!”

“So,” Rocksworth said, laughing as he spoke. “I strutted across the iron mill, my smooth, hairless legs poking out of my dress. Every human bloke and some of my own fellows, had their mouths down to the floor. They were all starstruck by my perfectly smelted pair of legs. And that, my dear lass, is how I sashayed my way to freedom.

A question lingered in Mena’s mind. “That’s amazing…and fabulous,” she said. “But how come you still work in such bad conditions here.”

Rocksworth’s cragged smile sank. “That, lassie. I do not know. Gemini hasn’t visited me in months, making me live in rat-infested filth and squalor.”

Mena frowned. “That’s just not right. You’re too fantastic to have to deal with this. I swear if I ever get out of here. I’ll speak to him.”

“Oh, would you, kind lass?” Sir Rocksworth asked. “Perhaps things are truly turning around for me.”

Mena sighed and strolled back to the pile of withered dreams. She turned around and fell back into them. They cushioned her fall. “If I ever get out of here,” she sighed. “If only I could dream of a way out of here and…?!”

Dear lassie!” Sir Rocksworth exclaimed. “The withered dreams.”

Mena looked down and gasped. They were glowing, turning a shade of bright orange and warming her body. Slowly, they began to float upwards, carrying Mena like an army of balloons.

“Wowie zowie!” Mena screamed as she floated upwards. “No idea how this is happening, but I hope it keeps up!”

“Perhaps, my fair lass,” Rocksworth said, ruminating on the circumstance. “You brought life back to these dreams. Like you did mine.”

“Golly,” Mena said, holding her hands to her cheeks.

She rose towards the dream deposit.

Rocksworth bowed his head. “Promise you’ll never forget me, lass.”

“With a story like that,” Mena shouted. “How could I!”

Mena waved goodbye, promising to herself that she’d help Sir Rocksworth Bugglesy the III and when she reached the top, she was greeted by all of her teachers, students and Gemini.

“Hark!” The Clown Prince of Dreams exclaimed, Caligari standing by him. “Mena has risen!”

“What did I tell you, Caligari?” Gemini asked. “Mena is a Rainborn. She’s got power like no one else.”

Caligari nodded, shuffling her short hair and giving a small affirmative smile. “Perhaps I was wrong about you, Willow.”

Mena was suddenly swarmed by everyone she had ever encountered in the Dream Castle. Professor Andromeda was at the forefront, a great look of worry on her face. “My apologies, Mena. I don’t realize the power of my own voice sometimes!”

“It’s okay,” Mena said, “We cool.”

As Professor Andromeda smiled in relief, May glommed onto Mena, sobbing loudly and squeezing her bones. “Meeeeennnnnaaaa!” she cried like an overgrown baby girl.

“It’s ack…okay, May,” Mena said, feeling a bit strangled. “I’m here. I’m alive.”

Janus approached Mena with overly wide, slightly creepy eyes. “What’s it like down there?” she asked in her sweetly empty voice. “Are there skeletons of all the students Caligari murdered?”

“What?!” Caligari yelled, her nostrils flaring.

“My daddy appreciates you doing his job for him,” Janus said.

Caligari looked nervously at Gemini and muttered, “I haven’t murdered anyone.”

Gemini was much too focused on Mena, his bright green eyes glowing. “Speaking of murder,” he said, creepily. “Perhaps we should get to the bottom of how this incident happened.”

Everyone turned their heads to Laetitia, Marie (still sporting a new duck bill) and Ashlan, all three with expressions that wished they could disappear down the dream deposit themselves.