“Excuse me?”

“I assumed that you’d question this—that’s only natural—but ultimately there’s only one explanation, isn’t there?”

“Is there?” Finn asked, confused.

“The other ones I wasn’t so sure about. But you, Finn Whitman. By the way, that’s a fine name you have. A name with real potential.”

Finn took a step back. How did this old guy know his name?

“What other ones?” Finn asked. He studied Town Square and Main Street. The street lamps shone yellow. The Cinderella Castle glowed in the distance. All the familiar streets and paths and attractions, but empty. “I told you, there’s no one here. No one but us. It’s empty.”

Wayne said nothing as he stood and walked up Main Street, past the shops and toward the castle. Finn found himself following right along. They reached Central Plaza, an island in the center of a traffic circle, the spokes of which led to the Magic Kingdom’s various lands—Tomorrowland, Frontierland, Liberty Square. They stopped in front of a statue of Walt Disney with Mickey Mouse.

The castle rose majestically into the night sky.

“What time is it?” Wayne asked.

As Finn brought his arm up to look at his watch, he saw that his arm wasn’t exactly his arm. It was…glowing. Not only glowing, but he could almost see through it. As if—

“What’s going on?” Finn asked. “What’s with my arm?”

Wayne sounded critical as he said, “Figure it out.” He then reached into his pocket and removed what looked like a remote control for a car: a small black plastic fob with a single red button. It looked like a garage-door opener.

“What’s with that thing?” Finn asked.

“This button will send you back.”

“Back where?” Finn felt a jolt of fear. What if this wasn’t a dream? He studied his arm again.

Then his other arm. He looked down at his legs. His whole body was glowing and vaguely translucent.

“Back to bed,” Wayne answered.

“So it is a dream? I thought so.”

“It’s not a dream.”

Finn saw a pair of four-foot-tall chipmunks come out of the castle. They walked down a path and turned left, toward Toontown. He felt himself staring. He recognized them.

“What?” Wayne asked excitedly.

“Nothing,” Finn answered.

“You saw something!” he practically shouted into Finn’s ear, causing Finn to jump back, startled.

Wayne leaped up, suddenly years younger. He pulled Finn to his feet.

“You saw something!” he thundered.

“Hey! What’s the big deal?”

“Tell me what you saw.”

“You saw it too!” Finn told him.

“Which character?”

Finn felt relief. Wayne knew Finn had seen a character, which had to mean he’d seen it too.

He was clearly playing some kind of game, making Finn actually name the character, but Finn was good at games.

“Which character did you see?” Finn asked.

“You want me to push this button?” Wayne threatened.

Did he? Finn wasn’t sure. If it was a dream, the black remote-control fob represented a way out. When was the right time to use it? He hoped to stretch this out a minute longer. It was fun here.

He glanced around at the sound of footsteps. Goofy went tearing past them, not thirty feet away, and headed into Frontierland.

Wayne never moved. Never looked in Goofy’s direction.

“You’re playing head games with me,” Finn said.

“Am I?”

“Goofy,” Finn said.

“Are you asking me if I’m goofy? I’ve been called worse.” Wayne studied Finn. His old leathery face brightened as he said, “You saw Goofy!”

Maybe Wayne needed a hearing aid—he seemed prone to fits of shouting.

Finn backed off. “Yeah. So what? You would have too, if you’d bothered to look.”

Wayne probably couldn’t hear all that well. He obviously hadn’t heard Goofy’s footsteps, because he hadn’t turned toward the sound.

Finn decided to test Wayne. “Chip and Dale,” he said. “You saw them, right?”

“You saw Chip and Dale?” He made it sound like Finn had won the lottery. What was with that?

“I, ah…This is getting a little weird. I think I want to go back now.” Finn heard himself repeat some of what Wayne had told him, though the words didn’t fit in his mouth all that well. It sounded to him like someone else doing the talking.

“I’ll push the button, if you like. But I have to warn you….” Wayne fiddled with the nametag pinned to his uniform.

“Warn me about what?”

“What you’ll be missing. The park after dark. Basically all to yourself. The attractions operate day and night. Not many people know that.”

“Now I know I’m dreaming.”

“But you aren’t,” Wayne explained. “Are you forgetting your arm?”

Finn studied his arm once more. “I’ll admit, that is…interesting. It’s almost like—” Finn caught himself.

“Like you’re glowing,” Wayne said in an all-knowing, I-told-you-so tone of voice.

“Am I?”

“What might account for that?” Wayne inquired.

Finn understood somehow that a lot hung on his answer—his imagining this place, or dreaming it, or whatever was happening to him. His ability to stay here. To return. He wasn’t quick to answer. He didn’t want to face what Wayne was suggesting.

“I give up,” he said.

“No, you don’t,” Wayne protested. “You never would have been chosen for this if you were the kind who gives up on things. You’re a finisher, Finn. That’s what I liked about you from your first audition tape.”

Stunned by what the old guy had just said, Finn felt his mouth go dry. How did Wayne know about his audition tape? Exactly how complicated could a dream get?

“Who are you?” Finn blurted out.

“I’m Wayne. I work here. I was one of the first people hired by Walt Disney to imagine this park. The rides, the attractions. They call us Imagineers.”

“You knew Walt Disney?” Finn tried not to sound impressed.

“He was my boss, you might say. At any rate, he’s the reason I’m here. The reason you’re here.”

“Me?”

“I know this can’t be easy.”

“It’s a dream,” Finn said, thinking, What’s so hard about a dream?

“No, it’s not a dream,” Wayne said. “Take a look at the moon.” Finn didn’t move. Wayne’s voice became more severe. “I said: look at the moon.”

Finn had to turn around to locate the moon. A half-moon, like a crooked smile, hung well above the horizon.

“When you wake up—when you think you wake up—take a look out the window. You’ll see the same moon, and you’ll know.”

“Know what?” Finn asked.

“That you were here. Sitting here in Disney World with an old guy named Wayne.”

“You’re telling me this isn’t a dream?” Finn felt his words catch in his throat.

“We’ve got a problem. A big problem. A problem that affects not only the park, but the world outside the park. We call them the Overtakers.”

“The what?” Finn didn’t like the sound of that.

Wayne said urgently, “You need to contact the other hosts. All four. Arrange to meet them here at the same time. That will mean all of you going to bed, going to sleep, fairly close to the same time. Within a half hour of one another. Tell them that. That should work, I think.”

“What are you talking about?”

“There’s a fable, a story, a puzzle of sorts that was left in case of a problem like this. It’s called the Stonecutter’s Quill.”

“A problem like what?” Finn felt totally confused. The Stonecutter’s Quill—the title had an eerie sound.

Just then, Tom Sawyer came out of Frontierland and headed up a long ramp into the castle.

Is that really the Tom Sawyer? Finn wondered. The barefoot boy was smoking a pipe with a long stem. Wayne did a good job of not reacting, of pretending he didn’t see the kid.

Wayne said, “The puzzle has to be solved to be understood. It has to be understood to be of any use to us.” He paused and looked over at Finn. It felt to Finn as if Wayne were looking right through him. “You’re going to solve it.”