Tiffany looked at the whale. It was having trouble. But it was the whale, the whale she’d dreamed about many times after Granny Aching had told her that story, and not even the Queen could control a story like that.
It turned reluctantly in the water and dived in the wake of the Jolly Sailor’s ship.
“Big fishy gone!” said Wentworth.
“No, it’s a mammal—” Tiffany’s mouth said, before she could stop it.
The pictsies were still staring at her.
“It’s just that he ought to get it right,” she mumbled, ashamed of herself. “It’s a mistake lots of people make….”
You’re going to turn into somebody like Miss Tick, said her Second Thoughts. Do you really want that?
“Yes,” said a voice, and Tiffany realized that it was hers again. The anger rose up, joyfully. “Yes! I’m me! I am careful and logical and I look up things I don’t understand! When I hear people use the wrong words, I get edgy! I am good with cheese. I read books fast! I think! And I always have a piece of string! That’s the kind of person I am!”
She stopped. Even Wentworth was staring at her now. He blinked.
“Big water cow gone,” he suggested meekly.
“That’s right! Good boy!” said Tiffany. “When we get home, you can have one sweet!”
She saw the massed ranks of the Nac Mac Feegle still looking at her with worried expressions.
“Is it okay wi’ you if we get on?” asked Rob Anybody, holding up a nervous hand. “Before yon whale fi—before yon whale cow comes back?”
Tiffany looked past them. The lighthouse wasn’t far. A little jetty stretched out from its tiny island.
“Yes, please. Er…thank you,” she said, calming down a bit. The ship and the whale had vanished into the rain, and the sea was merely lapping at the shore.
A drome was sitting on the rocks with its pale, fat legs sticking out in front of it. It was staring out to sea and didn’t appear to notice the approaching boat. It thinks it’s home, Tiffany thought. I’ve given it a dream it likes.
Pictsies poured onto the jetty and tied up the boat.
“Okay, we’re here,” said Rob Anybody. “We’ll just chop yon creature’s heid off and we’ll be right oout o’ here…”
“Don’t!” said Tiffany.
“But it—”
“Leave it alone. Just…leave it alone, all right? It’s not interested.” And it knows about the sea, she added to herself. It’s probably homesick for the sea. That’s why it’s such a real dream. I’d have never have got it right by myself.
A crab crawled out of the surf by the drome’s feet and settled down to dream crab dreams.
It looks as though a drome can get lost in its own dream, she thought. I wonder if it’ll ever wake up?
She turned to the Nac Mac Feegle. “In my dream I always wake up when I reach the lighthouse,” she said.
The pictsies looked up at the red-and-white tower and, as one Feegle, drew their swords.
“We dinna trust the Quin,” said Rob. “She’ll let ye think ye’re safe, and just when ye’ve dropped your guard, she’ll leap oout. She’ll be waitin’ behind the door, ye can bet on it. Ye’ll let us go in first.”
It was an instruction, not a question. Tiffany nodded and watched the Nac Mac Feegle swarm over the rocks toward the tower.
Alone on the jetty, except for Wentworth and the unconscious Roland, she lifted the toad out of her pocket. It opened its yellow eyes and stared at the sea.
“Either I’m dreaming or I’m on a beach,” it said. “And toads don’t dream.”
“In my dream they can,” said Tiffany. “And this is my dream.”