Lair of Dreams

“I don’t like any of this, pal!” Sam yelled. “If you got a better idea, let me know.”


Jericho didn’t have a better idea, but he resented being stuck at the museum instead of where the action was. That was always his role, and he was tired of it. “Fine,” he grumbled.

“Theta, I’d feel a whole lot better if you stayed here,” Memphis said.

“Nothing doing. Henry’s my best friend, my only family. He’s all I got.”

“You’ve got me,” Memphis said softly.

“Poet, I didn’t mean it that way.…”

“Mabel shouldn’t go. Theta shouldn’t go. Why is no one being chival… chivaroos… how come none of you bums is looking out for me?” Evie pouted as she sprawled across her chair.

“I am,” Theta said. She yanked Evie to a sitting position, put a cup of coffee to her lips, and practically poured it down her throat.





By the time Theta, Memphis, Evie, and Sam reached City Hall Park, the rain was coming down steadily. Gutters ran with leaf-clogged, muddy rivers, all of it pouring down into the sewers and drains. From here, they could see the police lights still shining on Chinatown, but the park was empty.

“Remember, people have been disappearing in these tunnels,” Memphis said. “Keep your wits about you.”

“If that’s supposed to make me feel better, you better find another line of work,” Sam said.

“Then here’s something else to cheer you,” Memphis said. He held the lapels of his coat close to his neck and looked up at the stormy gray clouds in the night sky. “We better hope those tunnels don’t fill up.”

“Let’s ankle. I want this over with and Henry safe,” Theta said, shivering in the cold rain.

“I’d say our best bet is to try getting there through the City Hall station,” Memphis said.

“We really gotta go through those tunnels?” Theta asked.

Memphis offered an apologetic shrug. “I don’t see any other way.”

They hurried down the steps of the City Hall station and pushed through the turnstiles. The platform was deserted.

“Gee. Like a library in here. Hello!” Evie called, letting her voice echo down the tracks.

“Can it, Evil!” Theta snapped. “If those… things… are down here, you really want ’em sniffing after us?”

Evie bowed her head, cowed. “I just like how my voice sounds.”

Theta rolled her eyes. “Ain’t that the truth.”

“This way,” Memphis whispered, and they followed him to the end of the platform, peering over the railing to the tracks below.

Theta stared down at the drop. “You gotta be kidding me.”

Memphis held her hand. “I’ll help you, Princess. Just stick with me.”

“Poet, I’m gonna stick so close to you you’ll think you gained a hundred and two pounds.”

Memphis climbed over and jumped down first. He caught Theta, enjoying the weight of her in his arms. “Piece of cake,” he said, smiling. “Come on down, Evie.”

Evie attempted to clear the railing, but her heel caught. She took a flying leap, nearly flattening Memphis as she tumbled. “Careful, there,” he said, catching her.

“Which way?” Sam asked, jumping down and wiping his hands on his trousers.

“Ling said Beach’s pneumatic train station was near Broadway and Warren Streets, so that way.” Memphis pointed straight ahead to the long curve of tunnel, lit only by a series of work lights high on the walls. It was dark and filthy and dangerous—no ledge, just wall and track. If a train were to come now, they’d be trapped. The third rail thrummed with electricity they could feel in the air and on the backs of their teeth.

“Watch out for that. That’s the one with all the juice,” Sam warned.

“It’s freezing down here,” Evie grumbled, the edges of her words still a bit messy. The coffee and the bitter cold had managed to take her from very drunk to less drunk with shades of irritable and belligerent.

“You’ll live,” Sam said. “Unless those hungry wraiths get us, in which case you won’t, but you also won’t have to worry about being cold anymore. So all in all, it’s a grand night in Manhattan. Hip, hip, hooray.”

“You’re in a very funny mood,” Evie said.

“I’m a funny guy,” Sam grumbled and kept his flashlight trained on the path ahead. “Just keep walking.”

Memphis lifted his eyes, taking in the grimy grandeur of the underground. “It’s sort of beautiful, though, isn’t it? Like a city below the city.”

“If you say so, Poet. How much farther?” Theta asked, keeping her eyes on the edge of the ties; she didn’t want her shoes getting caught between them.

Memphis bounced his flashlight beam across the concrete archways. “If Ling’s right about the location of Beach’s station, maybe a hundred feet?”

A rat scuttled quickly along the tracks, making Theta gasp. Memphis put his arm around her. “It’s more scared of us than we are of it.”

“It must be pretty scared, then,” Theta said.