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Thunder rumbled in the distance, and storm clouds rolled in rapidly to cloud the normally clear skies of Fiddler’s Green.
"I do not wish to take your life,” said Dream. “But we all have responsibilities, and this is one of mine."
The air warped and shifted around Rose Walker, and she could feel something within her fighting the coming storm.
"I am sorry."
"Just do it,” said Rose. “Whatever it takes to save my brother and my friends.”
"I will see to it that your brother is safe and cared for."
Rose nodded, bracing herself.
"I'm ready."
Power gathered, pulling towards the King of Dreams until it crested and suddenly lightning cracked and split the air; Rose stumbled and fell to the ground. The ground- Fiddler’s Green- caught her carefully, the grass moving to cradle her numb form.
"It- it didn't hurt," Rose said, astonished.
"You have suffered enough," Dream said gently, helping her back to her feet.
"So, I'm dead? It's over?"
"You can stay here, in the Dreaming, if you wish. Or I can call my sister and she will take you to what comes next."
"I… if I stay here, would I be able to say goodbye to my friends," she paused, swallowing down tears. "To Jed? In their dreams?"
"My lord!" Rose and Dream both turned as Lucienne came running up to them, followed by another woman, a dreamer, wearing a blue nightgown, and carrying a book.
"Unity?" Rose said, confused.
"We're too late," Lucienne whispered. "My lord, this is Unity Kincaid, Rose's great-grandmother. I found her in the Library, looking for books about her life."
"You said that she spent a century in the Dreaming while I was imprisoned," Dream said with a polite nod. "It is unsurprising that she would be able to navigate it as she wished, now that it is restored."
"According to this book, I was meant to be the Vortex of this era,” said Unity. "But because you were imprisoned and l locked out of your realm that fate was handed down to my descendants. What does that mean?"
"Rose was the vortex," Morpheus said. "The presence of a vortex threatens all of existence. Rose died. So that your world might live. "
Unity gave a wordless cry and wrapped Rose in a hug.
"I thought I was going to have a family after all," Unity sobbed.
"I am so sorry," Rose said. "I know you said you would take care of Jed, and Morpheus said he would make sure everything is alright. "
“I will do what I can to make matters in the waking world easier for him,” Dream said.
"This isn't fair," Unity pleaded. "It should have been me. You're so young. I lived an entire life in my dreams, with my golden-eyed man and our beautiful baby girl."
Morpheus stared at her.
"Wait. The father of your child had golden eyes?"
"Yes. I've never seen anything like them."
Dream looked at Lucienne; her face had gone ashen.
"I have."
*****
Dream paced the floor in front of the stairs to his throne. He should be angry. He should be furious. But all Dream felt was numb. He’d been through a century of deprivation and torture, rebuilt his realm, reclaimed his dreams and nightmares, worked so hard against doing the one thing that he didn’t want to do, all for nothing. It was only after he absorbed the part of himself that had once been the Corinthian that he’d had the stomach to kill the vortex. No. To kill Rose Walker. Who had been innocent and good natured; a pawn of Desire the entire time. Was his imprisonment also their doing? Or had Desire merely taken advantage of something that would have happened regardless? He was so tired.
“My lord,” Lucienne’s voice came quietly from behind him. “What will you do?”
“What I must, Lucienne. Assemble the major arcana here at the palace, please. I must speak to them about what has happened. And of what is to come.”
*****
It wasn’t until Lyta Hall had been discharged from the hospital and returned to the bed and breakfast that she learned her friend Rose was dead.
"In her sleep," Hal had said, his eyes haunted. "Jed is not- He's not taking it well. He’s terrified he’s going to go back into foster care.”
Lyta wondered how much Hal knew. How much Jed knew. For herself, she didn't have to wonder; she knew what had killed Rose. She lay in the queen size bed in Hal's house and nursed her baby, sobbing for her husband and her friend. She looked up as a breeze blew through the room, though the window wasn't open.
Dream of the Endless stood in the shadows, moonlight silhouetting his thin frame against the window.
"You!" She hissed.
"Lyta Hall, I have come to apologize," Morpheus said softly. "Only you have lost as much from these recent trials as Rose or Unity, despite what you may also have gained."
"I'm not letting you take my baby."
"I have been reconsidering my previous judgment. Rose has chosen to stay in the Dreaming for now. My elder sister informs me that your husband Hector has refused to follow her to the Sunless Lands. He wishes to meet his son, and I now find that after recent events I do not wish to deny him that boon. Death has given leave for him to become part of the Dreaming also, for a time. If you wish to return and live there with him, I will allow it to happen."
"I thought you said humans can't live in dreams," Lyta said, still furious, not believing what she was hearing.
"You cannot; not without being eventually unable to live again in the mortal realm. You would not be able to return to this world. Your son, who was conceived in the Dreaming but born in the waking world will not have such limitations. You and your husband could raise him in my realm, however, with your friend Rose by your side."
"What happened to us destroying the world?" she asked bitterly.
"The Vortex has been eliminated; its power dispersed. Rose gave her life for all of you. I offer you this as a kindness. An invitation as monarch of my realm. It will not cause the same disruptions without the power of the Vortex behind it."
"You're telling me that I can have everything? My husband? My baby? My friend? Our home?"
"Yes," Dream said, smiling gently. "Though I fear your architecture firm in New Jersey will have to be left behind."
"Fuck the architecture firm. I want to see Hector."
Dream held out his hand and Lyta sat up, cradling her son in one arm, and took his hand. They vanished in a swirl of sand.
There were no bodies to find when Hal went up to check on them the next day, and their luggage was gone. The oddity of it passed from his mind, as if in a fog, the memory of it dim. They had checked out, of course they had. Lyta surely had extended family she needed to visit. He had other things to worry about. There was paperwork, brought the next day by Unity Kincaid’s solicitor; meticulous, correct paperwork leaving Rose’s apartment in New Brunswick to Hal, giving custody of Jed to Unity, along with his birth certificate and a completely valid and new passport in his name. Zelda and Chantel agreed to buy his grandmother’s house. Rose’s house sitter Carl had a cousin who worked on Broadway. It was as if everyone’s dreams were finally coming true.
*****
"My lord?" Lucienne asked hesitantly, approaching Dream as he stood on the shore in front of several half-finished creations. "Sorry to disturb you in your working."
"You are not. Have all the citizens of the Dreaming been contacted?"
"They have my lord, and we have several different types of dreams monitoring the homes built by Rose and the Halls."
"Very good. Keep me informed should there be any disturbances."
"Of course, my lord." Lucienne paused. "Are you making new nightmares? To replace the Corinthian and Gault?"
"The Corinthian will have to wait until all else is ready. I am finishing a dream."
"I'll leave you to it, then."
"Lucienne," Dream called, and waited until she turned back around to face him. "Do you not wish to say hello?"
In front of them a surge of power flowed into the still form and suddenly it became Gault. Delicate, iridescent butterfly wings unfurled behind her and she looked around to see them, startled.
Lucienne breathed a sigh of pleasure.
"You look gorgeous, Gault."
"Thank you, Lucienne," Gault laughed.
"May I ask you what made you change your mind about me, sir?"
Dream smiled at her.
"I had no right returning here after more than a century expecting everything to be just as I left it. Lucienne tried to tell me that," he nodded toward the Librarian. "So did you. But now I'm listening. Or, trying to. The Dreaming has been made anew. So should any of my creations that wish to be. Will you tell them, Gault? Will you speak to the other dreams and nightmares and have them come to me with their concerns? Or to Lucienne if they feel they cannot trust me?"
"Of course, sir. I will speak to all of them."
Gault flew away, her pleasure evident in the joy with which she stretched and soared on her new wings.
"I have more work to do, and limited time to do it, Lucienne. Would you mind. Taking care of things for me, while I work.”
Lucienne’s smile was honest but sad.
"With pleasure, sir."
Much later, Dream stood alone on the shore, the Corinthian’s skull in his hand. This might be a dangerous risk. But if he guessed wrongly, it would soon no longer be his problem to solve. Slowly he focused his mind, gathering dreamstuff to reform the familiar body, the handsome face, pale suit, fair hair, the three mouths. He could change whatever he wished about this version of his little nightmare. He could make it so that this Corinthian was as loyal to him as Lucienne was. Well. Perhaps not quite that loyal; Dream thought that such devotion might rankle in what the Corinthian otherwise was. But no. He thought he understood more, now, having taken those memories into himself, what had gone wrong. Where he had been immoderate, and where he had been wise. He breathed life into the form and watched impassively as his creation looked around, patting down his pockets in an all-too-human gesture to find his sunglasses. He found them and slipped them on before he confronted his maker.
“Well,” said the Corinthian. “Back again.”
“So it would seem.”
"Did you actually make me taller this time?"
Morpheus smiled slightly.
“I have made some improvements. Do you still wish to leave the Dreaming, little nightmare? Will you not be content to confront humanity with its fears in their sleeping hours?”
“With all due respect, my lord ,” the Corinthian said, making it clear that he felt the amount due was none at all, “you shouldn’t have remade me. You didn’t change anything that matters; why bring me back?”
“I have given you everything that matters. But even with that, you were ever made too much like myself for you to truly love me,” Morpheus said. “I could not change that without changing who you are. Yet I would still give you that gift, did you ask it of me. As I have given to you the pieces of myself that are too precious to me to leave to the Dreaming. I would take them back if you asked.” He brushed the backs of his fingers against the Corinthian’s jawline and pretended he did not see him shudder in response. “You and I. Kings of the night, as you said.”
“Balls to that.” The Corinthian said, his crude response eliciting no reaction from his lord.
“Very well,” Dream said impassively. “ You may return to the waking world if you so wish. You will find that you can neither kill nor maim any mortals there. You may injure only in self-defense. Neither can you harm any other of my creations, no citizen of the Dreaming nor any guest here. You will hunt in nightmares or not at all. If you choose to live as a human, that is also your choice to make, but know you may return at any time.”
The Corinthian stared at him for a long moment, fear and fury warring on his face before he turned and strode towards the dreaming sea, seeming almost surprised when it parted for him as it always had. Still expecting to be stopped at the last moment, he kept his pace as even as he could. It took all his will not to turn and look back at Dream as he left. Morpheus watched him go.
*****
"Hey boss," Mathew said quietly, landing on the arm of the throne.. "You wanted to see me?"
"How is Rose faring with Lyta and Hector Hall?"
"Um, fine." Matthew said and cawed nervously to clear his throat. "Lyta wasn't a huge fan once she learned who I was, but she seems to have settled in and mostly decided you aren’t playing some horrible trick on her."
"It is no trick, though I do not believe that my allowing her to choose dreams over a mortal life is any true favor to her. She need never know my reasons were entirely selfish."
"Yeah. So. Rose and I noticed that time seems to be moving a lot faster in that section of the Dreaming than elsewhere. "
"Indeed. "
"I mean, it's been maybe twenty four hours in the waking world since you brought her here and Daniel is already like, four years old."
"Is there a question in that statement, Matthew?"
"Are you doing it on purpose?"
"Yes. Has Lyta said anything about it?"
"Um, no. And Rose and I agreed not to mention it until I asked you."
“Continue not to mention it. Lucienne has spoken to you of what is to come.”
"Kind of? She used a lot of metaphors and big words, but maybe that’s a librarian thing."
“Equivocation does not become you, my raven. You have access to the whole of the Dreaming. There are no words Lucienne can use to speak to you that you do not understand, no matter their size.”
“Ok, fine. She said you’re going to die. Which is very confusing after she spent at least a solid week when I first got here explaining to me what “Endless” meant.”
"I killed Rose Walker, to prevent the end of this universe. Not knowing she was of my sibling’s lineage. By spilling family blood, I have invoked the wrath of the Kindly Ones. They are owed my death in recompense and they will not be long in coming to claim it."
“And what happens to us?” Matthew asked. “What happens to the Dreaming?”
“That will depend on a number of factors. But do not worry, Matthew. Provisions are being made.”
“I don’t. Um. I don’t want you to die, boss,” Matthew said, embarrassed.
“Nor do I wish to die. But we will continue to plan. In the meantime, I have a task for you in the waking world. One which you may not enjoy as much as spending time with Rose and her family, but one which is of vital importance.”
“Of course. You can count on me!”
"I know that I can, my raven. The Corinthian will not appreciate your spying in him, so stay as hidden as you possibly can. However he is unable to harm you in any way, so if he should spot you, do not fear."
"He'll never see me," scoffed Matthew.
"They will visit him, and when they do, you must tell me immediately. Do not stay to watch the meeting. The words spoken are of no importance. My knowing of it instantly is.
"You got it boss," said Matthew and flew off to the waking world.
*****
Life as a human was, unfortunately, not that much less boring than life as a nightmare had been in the end, the Corinthian thought. Not when you couldn't kill people to relieve the monotony. He was also sick of Dream’s new raven following him everywhere, and had taken to mostly staying inside when he could. Apparently not being able to harm any resident of the Dreaming also meant he couldn’t throw any more rocks at the fucking bird.
The Fates themselves appearing in his shitty little apartment though, that was definitely not boring.
The Corinthian stared at the ladies in front of him. He took off his sunglasses so he could be very sure they knew who, and what, he was.
“You want to help me kill Dream?”
“The Lord of Dreams has spilled family blood,” said the Maiden.
“Invoking the ancient laws,” said the Mother, without pity.
“He. Is. Ours,” finished the Crone.
“Alright,” drawled the Corinthian. “I’m happy to give it a try.”
*****
"Desire," called Dream. "I stand in my gallery and I hold your sigil. Talk to me."
"Why my sweet Dream. This is a surprise. One might say an event."
"Good, I'm coming through," said Dream, and walked into the Threshold of Desire. His sibling was lounging on one of the many ridiculously curved pieces of furniture that littered the center of the space.
"Lovely to see you," Desire purred. "Can I get you... anything you desire?"
"I desire nothing from you save words."
"I thought words were your provenance, brother. Prince of Stories ."
"The rest of our family will be here shortly, and I will have a story for you."
"Why, Dream! It's usually Destiny who tells us when it's time for another volatile get-together. Who says I'll let them in?"
"You'll let them in because you want an audience," Dream said mildly. "What good is winning a game if there's no one to see you win?"
A lurch of space, and the other Endless appeared in the Threshold one by one. Despair first, never far from her twin. Then Delirium, then Death, and finally Destiny. Dream nodded to them in greeting.
"I came to say goodbye, Desire." Dream paced slowly behind them, and stepped forward into their space, hands on their shoulders and leaned forward until his nose was almost in Desire’s hair, lips almost brushing their ear. “I came so that you would know. So that I might say the words to you. That I have lost, and you have won."
Desire froze and turned to look into his face.
"What?"
"Don't play coy with me, my sibling. Your plan succeeded. You should be happy." He glanced at the other Endless to judge their reactions. "I killed the dream vortex, Rose Walker, as was my duty, after delaying it as long as I could in hope of another solution. Rose Walker, whose grandmother you sired on Unity Kincaid while I was imprisoned for over a century, knowing full well that she would become the vortex, and that I would be forced to end her life.”
A noise of surprise came from one of their sisters. Death, most likely. Destiny was never surprised, Delirium rarely was, despite what one would expect of her. And Despair would obviously have known what their twin had planned.
Desire smirked.
"Was I really that obvious?"
"No. You covered your tracks remarkably well."
Desire looked at their brother, suddenly uncertain.
"That's high praise, coming from you."
Dream smiled, but it was a small, sad smile.
"My sibling. We of the Endless are the servants of the living, not their masters. We exist only because they know deep in their hearts that we exist. I do not understand why you brought us to this, Desire. I do not understand your games. I have never understood them. Just as you have never understood why I react the way I do to being toyed with. For that lack of understanding I am sorry.”
Desire didn’t seem to know what do to with an apology.
"If you weren't such a stuck up prig,” they said, falling back on offense. “If you knew how to take a joke. "
"Enough. I did not come to listen to you list my many faults.” Dream sat down on the lounging couch next to Desire and leaned in towards them, tenderly. “I came so that you, all of you, would be forced to watch me die."
The Corinthian appeared in the gallery of the Threshold.
"How did he-?" Desire gasped.
"You opened the gates to the Dreaming to let him in," said the Corinthian, gesturing to Dream with his knife. "The bad news is that it lets me in from the Dreaming too. "
“Have we not been here before, my little dream,” Morpheus said gently. “You. Me. A knife.”
The Corinthian grinned.
“I got one good cut in that time. Before you turned the tables.”
“Indeed you did.”
“And this time I have more power on my side. I have the Moirai themselves at my back. They changed me; you can’t unmake me anymore.” The Corinthian smirked and stalked slowly closer to Morpheus. “You remade me so that I can’t kill humans, and I can’t kill your creations. But you didn’t remake me so that I can’t try to kill you .”
“Careful, little nightmare. You are not the one with the power. You are merely a tool in their hands.”
“Better than being a tool in yours, my lord, ” Corinthian said, and lunged at him.
The fight was brutal, the Corinthian’s knives against the most deadly teeth and claws that the King of Nightmares himself could summon. The only thing that stopped Desire and Delirium from throwing themselves into the melee were the firm hands of Destiny, one hand holding each of theirs.
"My sister," Desire said, looking at Death with troubled eyes. "Put a stop to this. There is going to be," they gritted their teeth. "Blood. Everywhere."
"I can't," she said, more grim than Desire had ever seen her. The fight was winding to its inevitable close. Dream was unnaturally fast and strong but so was his creation, and whatever gift the Fates had given to the Corinthian, he was not slowing, no matter how many gashes Dream tore in him. No matter how much blood spilled from his face, his neck, his mouths. Eventually Dream sank to the floor and did not rise. It did not stop the Corinthian from kicking his head again. And again.
Desire, without meaning to, found themselves screaming, and Destiny was not fast enough to stop them from throwing themselves onto the Corinthian’s back and tackling him to the ground. Desire twisted, and all present heard the neck snap. They looked over to see Death kneeling down next to their brother.
"Dream," Death said, her voice trembling only slightly. She reached out her hand toward him. "Please." He shook his head minutely. She had to lean closer to him to hear his response.
"I am sorry, my sister." He reached out one hand, shaking with pain, not towards his eldest sister, but towards the Corinthian's prone form, grasping its hand.
"These violent delights have violent ends," Dream murmured, pulling the nightmare's body toward himself. "And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, which as they kiss consume."
He kissed the Corinthian’s bloody mouth on his twisted, broken neck and the nightmare gasped in a breath, coming back to life.
"Therefore love moderately. Long love doth so. Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow."
Dream grabbed the knife from the nightmare's hand as the Corinthian sat up and pulled its twin from the sheath at his side. They looked like what they had always been, knives shaped of the stuff of the Dreaming that grew longer and longer as the eyes around them watched, but Morpheus could see past the semblance to their true form. The two blades together formed Atropos’ fearsome shears. The Corinthian drove one blade hard into Morpheus’s stomach, and instead of pulling away, Morpheus pulled the Corinthian up against his own body as closely as a lover, and he drove the knife-sword through the other man’s back, out his chest on the other side and into Dream’s own chest. The move was only possible in Dream's eldritch nightmare form, but the Endless, watching on helplessly, saw beneath the surface as well. Saw the blade of the Fates pierce and snuff out the life there. Saw their numbers dwindle from six to five as Dream’s form collapsed, became empty and still. The Corinthian’s body also lay silent, face down on top of his master, on the shining floor of the Threshold.
Elsewhere, in a remote corner of the Dreaming, Daniel Hall, tall and fair and long-limbed with adulthood, kissed his elderly parents farewell, and left his childhood home for the palace of Dreams.
*****
Back in the Threshold all was silent. The Fates inspected the scene; Clotho picked up the crumpled body that had once been Dream of the Endless. Atropos reclaimed her shears and they turned to leave.
“What about the nightmare?” Despair asked. No one else seemed capable of speaking.
Clotho looked at it and sniffed.
“It shall be returned to the Dreaming to be made or unmade as its new master chooses.” Lachesis waved a hand and the lifeless form of the Corinthian disappeared, back to the Dreaming. Then the Moirai were gone as well.
“Why?” Desire said, their voice small, clinging to their twin.
Death, still kneeling on the floor, rounded on them, furious.
“Why? Because someone made it so that his choices were to spill family blood or let this entire universe end! Because someone doesn’t know when to stop!”
“He could have asked for help!” Desire growled. “He could have been out of his cage in months, or years, it was only his stupid pride that kept him there for a century. Why should I have known that his pretty little nightmare would collaborate with his captor to keep him entombed? Why couldn’t he just do what he needed to do to get out, then none of this would have happened?”
“He could not,” Destiny said softly.
“Then why didn’t you tell me ?” Desire screamed at their oldest brother. Their only brother now.
“That is not my purpose,” Destiny said, dispassionate. “And you would not have changed your course, even had I told you.” He turned away to leave, and ignored the profanity that Desire screamed at his retreating back.
Delirium was unusually silent and still as she also came up to hug Despair.
“I was sad like this before, Despair," she said. "When you died. Did it hurt to die?”
“Yes,” whispered Despair.
“Death?” asked Delirium.
“Yeah, sweetie?”
“When Despair died, you were there for her, weren’t you? To take her hand?”
Death had to clear her throat before she could speak.
“Yes. I was.” She looked at Despair and they locked eyes for a moment, remembering.
“What does it mean that Dream didn’t take your hand, then?” Delirium asked.
“I don’t know,” Death said.
*****
Death had to lose herself in her work for a time, and thus it was days or weeks later that she found herself in London with some few moments to breathe before her next appointment. She had no idea how long it would take for the new Dream to settle into his role, and she wasn't ready to face him just yet. She would check on Hob. It was only right she be the one to give him the news. If it changed his mind about wanting to live, well. She would not accept that answer from him immediately. Not until he had been given time to really think about it. She approached the New Inn and stopped when she saw the Corinthian’s tall form leaning idly against the brick wall next to the door, chatting with a familiar raven.
"Matthew," Death said to the bird, angry. "What is he doing here?"
"Ah, Death. So good to see you." The man flashed her his most charming smile. "The Lord of the Dreaming has seen fit to allow me my freedom.”
"And I get to hang out with him when he's here," Matthew added.
“Freedom? After what you did?”
The nightmare raised one eyebrow at her.
“I did exactly what I was made to do, Death of the Endless. That’s all any of us can do. Our purpose is our function. Remember? You told your brother that.”
Death paused, gathering her temper and her words before she spoke.
“Why are you here? Did you come to tell Hob Gadling what you did?”
“I explained a few things to Mr. Gadling, yes.”
“What gives you the right ?”
"And that's my cue!" Matthew exclaimed, fluttering into the air. "Gosh I think I'm urgently needed over there for some reason."
“You didn't really want to be the one to tell him, or you would have shown up before now," said the nightmare. He studied her face. "Oh I see. He’s yours, so I can’t be friends with him? You don’t control me. I don’t have to play by your stupid rules anymore. I answer only to Dream. And Dream has said that I may come and go between my home with him and the waking world as I please, provided I don't kill anyone outside of their nightmares."
"I thought you'd given up the nightmare business," said Death.
The Corinthian slid his sunglasses down onto the end of his nose and grinned down at Death. He blinked long and slow, like a cat, and then suddenly where his two smaller grinning mouths had once been were instead two very deep blue, very familiar eyes.
Death gasped.
"My sister," he said. "I may no longer be Dream, but I am still a Nightmare."