“That’s fine,” Cerené said. “Remember I told you the first element of the Art is the Heart, which are the ingredients to make magic. The Heart is three parts; ashes and we’ve taken care of that already. Now we need sand and lime.”

“How are we going to get those?” Shew asked.

“Limestone is easy. Follow me,” Cerené ran into the dark of the forest again.

Shew had never seen anyone so comfortable with the forest before. Usually, people were careful walking in the Black Forest for it was a place full of evil creatures, but not Cerené. She could meet the Boogeyman and shake hands with him then walk on, or possibly convince him to fetch her limestone for her Art.

This time, Shew followed Cerené to the School of Sorrow where she worked, cleaning after the teachers and students had gone home. Cerené told her to wait while she went inside. A moment later, she came back with chalk in her hands.

“See?” Cerené showed her the chalk, happily.

“See what? The chalk?”

“Chalk is basically limestone,” Cerené explained. “With a drop from the Mermaid Milk, we got ourselves the second piece of the puzzle. Now we have ashes and lime.”

“That was easy,” Shew mumbled.

“All of it is easy, even the ashes,” Cerené said.

How was fighting villainous plants to get ashes easy?

“As long as we’re playing, it’s always easy,” Cerené said as if she had read Shew’s mind.

Cerené poured two drops of Mermaid’s Milk on the chalk. She bit the chalk into small pieces, not worrying about the limestone staining her lips and teeth. She put the chalk, now powder, in the urn and mixed it with the ashes.

“You got chalk on your teeth,” Shew remarked.

“Don’t worry,” Cerené said and started rubbing her teeth with powder chalk left on her lips. “Limestone is good for teeth.”

Shew saw that Cerené was right. After rubbing it a couple of times over her teeth, her teeth whitened and shined.

“Let me see that,” Shew took some of the lime on her forefinger. “This is amazing,” she let out a forced laugh. She remembered collecting a book from one of the victims she’d fed on in the Schloss, and reading that toothpaste was originally made of chalk or lime.

What if Cerené ended up discovering toothpaste?

“Why are you laughing?” Cerené wondered.

“This is basically toothpaste,” Shew said.

“What is toothwaste?”

“Paste. Toothpaste is something to clean your teeth with.”

“Toothpaste,” Cerené yayed. “I like that name. You’re good. Nice one. You know this toothpaste doesn’t only whiten your teeth? It also protects it from the Demon Worm.”

“The Demon Worm?” Shew asked then felt a sudden  surge of white light hit her brain. It hurt but it was brief. It made her remember that in her time in the Kingdom of Sorrow people didn’t know much about teeth. They believed cavities were caused by a Demon Worm sent by Night Sorrow. A person with a cavity or ache in his tooth was considered possessed, and the demon possessing him had to be exorcized. “Of course, Demon Worms,” Shew rubbed her forehead. “This stuff can protect you from it. That’s amazing. So tell me, Cerené. We have brought ashes, lime, and now we need sand, right?”

“Sand,” Cerené sighed. “That’s the hardest part.”

Shew felt uncomfortable. If Cerené considers it hard, then it might be too hard.

“But we’ll get it, right? As long we’re together, we can do anything?” Shew said, afraid Cerené would turn gloomy.

“Yes,” she said with starry eyes. “Friends!” she stared at Shew in such an appreciative way it made Shew feel guilty. If she managed to wake up from this dream, she would end up leaving Cerené all alone in the world, and she’d be alone again without a friend.

But there must be another incarnation of you living in the Dreamworld when you wake up, Shew. Remember this IS a memory, only your reactions are different because you’re the only one in this world who knows it’s a memory.

Shew shrugged. She knew she wasn’t the only one who knew this was a memory. Loki, dressed in the evil Huntsman’s soul, knew it too.

Shew washed the thought away immediately. At the moment, Cerené was much more interesting than Loki.

Life isn’t just about love; friends are just as important.

Shew didn’t have friends, neither in the Dreamworld nor the Waking World. She suddenly realized that she needed Cerené as much as Cerené needed her.

You don’t always need people to take care of you. Sometimes you need people so you can take care of them.

“So where do we need to go to get the third ingredient of your Art?” Shew asked, more interested than ever.

“The Field of Dreams,” Cerené said. “Myth has it that it’s owned by the Sandman.”

7

A Field of Dreams

“To get to the Sandman’s Field of Dreams, we have to cross the Juniper Trees and the Wall of Thorns first,” Cerené said after a long walk.

Shew knew about the Juniper Trees. Each tree had a single eye at the end of its branches and used it to spy on intruders in forbidden regions. It was rumored that each tree had a soul of a child trapped in it, children who’d been killed in ancient wars. In comparison to everything else in Sorrow, the Juniper Trees were not to be feared.

What worried Shew was the mention of the Wall of Thorns, which was one of the barriers Carmilla had created with witchcraft to protect them from Night Sorrow’s army—this part always confused Shew. Wasn’t Carmilla already on Night Sorrow’s side after turning into a vampire? She believed that time was going to reveal something about it.

As for the Wall of Thorns, it was a magical thorn bush that cut through the trespassers trying to leave or enter Sorrow. The thorn cut a person to taste their blood and determine whether they were Night Sorrow’s intruders or locals. The tree thought of them as enemies and friends. If friends, it let them pass, whether in or out of Sorrow. If enemies, it tortured them by playing an irresistible musical tune that made one dance uncontrollably and eventually dance themselves to death in the thorn bush.

No intruder had ever passed through the Wall of Thorns—at least, none heard of—and few locals dared their way out.

Cerené’s suggestion was madness itself.

“Wait,” Shew grabbed her hand. “We’re not going to pass through. We’ll die and you know that.”

“You have to trust me, Joy,” Cerené said, and kept walking.

“Stop calling me Joy,” Shew stopped walking.

“Why? I love the name. You are my Joy in this Kingdom of Sorrow.”

“Cerené,” Shew called out. “Please stop.”

“Alright, princess,” Cerené stomped her feet. She wanted to walk farther. She wanted to play, and Shew was spoiling the fun. “I am all ears.”

“You know we’ll die if we cross the Wall of Thorns, right?”

“No, we won’t,” Cerené set her urn on the ground and folded her arms. “One can die easier by living in the Kingdom of Sorrow.”

Shew said nothing. Cerené hit the jackpot with that last sentence, but there was a difference between dying and suicide.

“All you need is to trust me,” Cerené unfolded her hands and started pleading like a child. “I wouldn’t hurt you, ever. If you’re worried about Night Sorrow’s army, let me tell you that this spot in the Wall of Thorns doesn’t lead directly to the outside. It leads to the Field of Dream which also called the Field In Between. I don’t know much about it, but if you see it, you will love it.”

“The Field in Between what?”

“I wish I knew, but it’s a place that is neither inside of Sorrow nor outside. Like I said, I had nothing to do in my spare time without friends or caring people but read. I read all the books I found in the school’s library, dusty books, books with no cover, and vintage books that had been handwritten,” Cerené said. “Have I lied about anything I told you about before?”