The Dreamer, or so Tenthé supposed, stared back at him.

“You should not be in here,” he stated.

Tenthé felt no need to respond. Instead, he asked, “Are you the Dreamer?”

“Um, what if I were?”

“I’ve got a few questions.”

“Are you here to kill me?”

“Why? Should I?”

“Uh, I don’t know.”

“Do you have a lot of people trying to kill you?”

“No… you’re the first.”

“I’m not going to kill you.”

“That’s what you say.”

“So, nobody has ever tried to kill you, but you think I will?”

“Well, I’ve never had an uninvited person to confront me in my room before. Why else would you be here? ”

“Hm. You aren’t what I thought. I always figured you’d be more, uh… regal. Yeah, regal. Like you know everything, and all that.”

“Ha! A common misconception. What do you suppose a dreamer does??”

“Um, dream?”

“No, I mean yes, but it’s all about the details. I have to think of every little thing. Every. Little. Thing. Pink dogs.”

“What?”

“Last time I missed something, all the dogs were pink. Nobody noticed because they expected dogs to be pink, but I knew better. Pink.

“If I don’t take care of all those details, something will get left out, or lost, or just wrong. In the early days, it was so bad that even the populace could figure out that things weren’t right. That’s why I have such a big team, now.”

“Okay. I guess. I have another question. Can you change things back to the way they were, like before the change? The one where you put Turtle in charge of everything.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

“'Because… my friends, uh, yeah. My friends. They didn’t come out so good with what you did. I don’t really care about much else, but things were mostly okay before, and now they’re not.”

“I am not to blame for that! We had it all under control, then the other bloody Horde showed up! I can tell you, that wasn’t in the plan! We’ve been scrambling ever since.”

“I have a different question, even though you didn’t really answer my first one. Why are you telling me all this? Isn’t it kind of like a secret?”

“Ha! Yeah, but I’ll just dream it back to how it should be.”

“Not sure that’ll work, for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Um, my name. It’s Tenthé, you know. Tenthé, as in Tenth-Hand-of-the-Dreamer?”

“What?”

“Well, I’ve been told I really am the Tenth Hand guy. That would make me different, wouldn’t it?”

“No, not exactly. Being a Hand is more of a job than an embodiment. But, come over here. Let me look at you.”

Tenthé walked over to the Dreamer. When he got close, they studied each other. The Dreamer’s looks were fairly generic. He had the same dull hair color as Tenthé, and a similar skin tone, although the Dreamer’d not been outside much. The shadow of a beard showed he’d not had time to shave recently, probably busy shoring up the City to oppose the Horde.

Suddenly, the Dreamer’s eyes widened, and he took a step away, before stumbling over to plop down on one of the big chairs.

“No! No! It can’t be,” he blurted.

“What?” Tenthé asked.

“Don’t take this wrong, but, um… let me look at you again.”

After another close examination, the Dreamer sat back in the chair, then exclaimed, “Of all the luck! Crap! Double crap! I think… no, I’m sure! You’re me! Well, not me, but another version of me!”

“What are you talking about?”

“Bet this is a bit of a shock for you. I know it is to me. Definitely! Yes. A shock.”

It was a shock to Tenthé too, but now that he’d said it, the Dreamer’s voice even sounded kind of like his!

The Dreamer was still speaking. Tenthé tuned back in.

“So, tell me, kid. Do you remember your dad?”

Tenthé shook his head. What did that have to do with anything? After a moment, he responded, “Not really. People at the College told me they found someone who could be him, but he was a wastoid and I didn’t care.”

“I guess you can thank me for that. Dad was a number one prick. He was mean and mom was completely out of it. It was pretty bad. I needed to get some back-room repairs, a few times. After that, I started hanging out with the gangs, but then it happened.”

“What?”

“The Dreamer! He died and the power came to me. Me! A nothing street rat! Of course, I didn’t figure it out for a while, but I’d dream of better things and they would happen. At least for a while. The problem was, I had no clue about what was going on, or how to make it so what I dreamed was good enough to last. You following?” the Dreamer asked.

“No. I’m stuck at you and me being, uh, copies or whatever. I know copies, but what you’re talking about isn’t the same.”

The Dreamer looked oddly at Tenthé, but continued, “Just stay with me, kid, I’m getting to it. So, one day, there I am, hanging out with the gang and we went onto the Mission to get some food and a girl working there said I was old enough that I needed an ID card with my name on it. I didn’t want to give her my real name, you know, because if dad found out I was eating at the Mission, he’d beat me, because it was ‘only for people who were too lazy to work.’ His words.

“Not that he fed me, but anyway, they wouldn’t take my street handle, so I had to come up with something. The lady working there sort of hinted it could be anything. She said that Tenthé was a good choice, since it was pretty common.

“So, I figured ‘why not?’, and there I was. The problem was that just that night I had weird dreams where I was the real Tenthé doing great deeds, or an ordinary kid, or the Dreamer. It was all mixed up. The next day, when I walked into the Mission, there you were, standing in line. When you got to the front, you pulled out an ID card, and they fed you.

“I tried to find my card, but it was gone, so I was going to jump you and get it back, but dad came in and I hid. He grabbed you, but you kicked him in the nuts and ran off. I never saw you again. Later that day, the Turtle’s priests found me and brought me to his Temple. I’ve lived here ever since.”

Tenthé sat, mulling over what he’d just heard. After some thought, he asked, “How’d you stay hidden all that time? A lot of people thought it was one of the Gods that got you, but it never panned out.”

“Ha, yeah. Well, two reasons. First: the Turtle God has people everywhere. And second: me, the Dreamer. I can change things so they work out the way we want.”

“How much did you have to do with what happened to me, later?”

“Nothing. I even forgot you existed. Whatever you went through was out of my control. I figured you died or something.”

“So. Why don’t I ever get old? And I can’ read or count.”

“Uh… some that might have been me. Sorry about that. I don’t know why, but from the stories, I always thought of the tenth hand as a kid, so I guess that’s how I made you.

“As to reading and counting? I can read and count, so I don’t think that was me. Your aging problem, though. Do you want me to fix it?”

“You think you can?”

“Sure. I don’t expect it would be all that complicated.”

“Do you think you should? The Turtle God and me aren’t really getting along that good.”

“How’d you manage that? He’s been pretty nice to me, and never said anything bad about you. Although, I have to admit, he hasn’t said anything at all.”

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“Yeah, funny about that. I’m fairly sure the Turtle and the other gods know more than they’re telling you. They’ve been screwing with my life for a while, now.”

“Really? Ah, wait a sec! They did say there was a snag. Literally, a snag. Something anchoring the wrong reality. Let me have a look.”

The Dreamer leaned closer and peered at and around Tenthé. After a while, he pulled back.

“Not sure,” he said. “There’s a solidness about you. You’re very stable, like, how can I put it? Extra sure about how things are. I wonder if some of the Dreamer leaked over when I made you?”

That made sense. It sounded like he’d been a problem for Turtle even when he wasn’t trying to be. Maybe that was why everything had been happening to him lately.

He was far from naïve, so, although the Dreamer’s story made sense, he’d have to talk it over with Bear. Until then, one thing he was sure of was that he wouldn’t let the Dreamer do anything else to change his life. Not without a fight.

Not letting any of this show, he asked, “Okay. All this sounds good, but, can you prove any of it?”

“Hm. Let me think… Wait! See here?” He brushed his eyebrow backward, showing a faint scar. “Dad gave this to me when I was a kid. You should have it too.”

Tenthé didn’t have to look, he did have that scar. Maybe he and the Dreamer really were copies! Or, at least, were copies from a long time ago.

And, as fun as this was, he’d come here for one reason. To that end, he asked, “So, back to my question, can you make the City the way it used to be?”

“To be honest? No,” the Dreamer answered. “When I was growing up, we let the City run on its own, sort of letting events happen. The Turtle and me were new to all this, and didn’t start keeping records, or I mean, the right kind of records, for quite a while. It was one of the things the Turtle hated while we were learning: that we had very little control. He likes everything ordered and neat, like it is now.

“If you’re asking me if I’ll take it from where I feel I have everything nicely organized, and restore it to an earlier time when it was messy and chaotic. I don’t see the benefit, but, even more, I can’t. The best I could do is make it into a different chaos, and, with the Horde here, doing that would make that situation worse. Currently, we’re at a stalemate. If I’m not careful, it could go very bad. The rumors that a Dreamer can do anything are sort of true, but, like I told you, would it be stable? No. That takes planning. And a lot of it. That is what all those people out there do. Even so, I have a tweak file I have to deal with each night, to fix all the little problems.”

“Well. That’s disappointing… so then, what about Isabell?”

“Um, Isabell? Who’s that?”

“Isabell Gledhill? The cube girl?”

“Oh, her! I’m pretty proud of that one. It’s not often I have to handle magic that isn’t from here. Hers was so strange that I couldn’t understand it at all! I had to shut down the parts of her that accessed it and ensure they stayed shut. No idea where it would have ended up if I’d done nothing, but not in my city! Why? Was she someone you knew?”

“Yeah. Sort of.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but we had a lot of meetings concerning her. It took all of us to figure out a solution and even so, we weren’t sure it would hold together. I can tell you, the Gods really didn’t like the kind of power she was throwing around. Haha”

WHAM!

At that moment there was a massive jolt and the room shook, shook some more, and kept on shaking. Both Tenthé and the Dreamer were thrown to the floor, where they sloshed back and forth with all the furniture, food, papers, and crap common to any room. The tremors went on and on before slowly dying down.

Tenthé hadn’t been stunned by the movement, but he lay quiet while he assimilated the memories from the other Tenthé. Fortunately, this didn’t hurt anywhere near what being copied did.

“What the Hells was that!” yelled a scratched and bloody Dreamer as he extracted himself from the mess on the floor.

At that moment, the door slammed open and Tenthé immediately went into stealth, rushing out before the door could close again. He wasn’t subtle and pushed people aside to clear the way. Fortunately, those in his path weren’t elites, so they ignored the inexplicable jostling in their rush to check on the Dreamer.

It appeared that their, or rather, his, ploy had worked. The other Tenthé had managed to lure the big threats away so he would have a chance to talk with the Dreamer. It was cold, but not the first time he had to sacrificed himself to save himself. And, it was good he’d done it, since it was obvious that someone in the City had twigged onto the concept of sealed rooms, which certainly made his job harder.

He now had quite a bit to think about. His immediate problem, though, was to figure out some way that he couldn’t be tracked through the tattoo. Turtle might not look immediately, thinking him dead, but it was only a matter of time.

The big room was in utter chaos. There was debris everywhere, with cracks in the walls wide enough to walk through and more in the roof, making it possible to see the sky. The floors weren’t level anymore and almost everyone was hurt in some manner or another, if not dead. From somewhere deeper in the temple, Tenthé heard the angry bellowing of the Turtle God. How screwed up was his life that this wasn’t even the first time? It appeared that the Dreamer was going to have his work cut out to restore everyone and everything.

Tenthé dodged through the debris and the casualties as he tried to find a way out. The destruction was doing its best to thwart his escape: the tunnels he’d used had collapsed, and he didn’t know any other route. After a few dead ends, he lightened himself and climbed up to the roof. After squeezing through a crack, he found himself outside on one of several large domes. He slid down to the flat part, then made his way to an overhanging at the front of the temple. From there, he leaped off and floated down to a quiet spot. Once he was back on solid footing, he took off toward the entrance of the temple for the cross-eyed god and, once again, jerked to a halt when his tattoo caught in the doorway.

Manifesting a spark, he sent it to into his hand, which blackened and burned to ash. He then moved the spark up his arm until it came to the tattoo. Here, it hesitated, but Tenthé kept it pressed against his flesh until the last few lines of the tattoo were consumed.

The instant the last of the marks burned, Tenthé felt the release of a tension he hadn’t noticed. It had cost his arm, but he was free of the Turtle. For the moment. He went to reach into one of his pockets until he realized that that wasn’t going to work, so he switched to his other arm. Or rather, to his arm.

He rooted around for a few seconds, just beginning to realize how much muscle memory had been involved with finding things in his cloak, until he pulled out a box.

This was a legacy of the first Pool. As he was about to open the box, he realized that he wasn’t stealthed anymore. Oddly enough, the act removing one of your arms was somewhat unsettling. Instead of re-engaging his stealth here in the heart of the Turtle God’s domain, he drew into the shadows and opened the box. Nestled inside was a three-fingered hand, with one finger opposing two others.

Tenthé concentrated, feeling for it just like a regular hand. When he connected, the hand snapped to where his own hand would normally be, even though there was no arm to connect it to the rest of him.

Tenthé flexed, opening and closing his fingers a few times. This hand was, in some ways, superior to his regular one. The fingertips were more sensitive and its grip was much stronger than an unenhanced human’s.

He pulled the sleeve of his cloak down and poked his new fingers through the cloth, making something like a fingerless glove. If he kept his hand clenched, it looked nearly normal.

“I have to admit, I didn’t expect to see you again,” a voice wheezed from beside him. “Quite inventive, that manipulator. I thought I’d seen everything, but that one’s new to me.”

“Hello, God of Toast.”

“What?”

“I’ve decided you’re the God of Toast since you haven’t told me any different.”

“Toast. That’s random.” The god laughed. “Surprisingly apt.”

Tenthé didn’t answer.

“Dealt with a lot of us gods, I suspect.”

Again, silence.

“Yeah. Okay, then. I’m like two adherents away from the funny farm, myself, so what’s it matter if I talk to a God slayer? It’ll just hurry the process.”

“I only slay those who attack me. Mostly. Some of them just needed to be gone. Okay, I admit, there’s probably a few who didn’t do anything much.” Tenthé paused, then added, “Oh, and thanks for the hint about the tattoo.”

“No problem. You know, when your arm grows back, the tattoo’ll return.”

“Figured. This’ll do for now.” Tenthé waved his replacement around.

“Hmph, how unusual. To my senses, it appears to be a normal arm. No sign of magic, or anything,” the god said.

“It came from a Pool. Everything there has bodies made like this. They thought I was weird that I had everything connected together. In that place, hijacking body parts is a joke and a way to fight. So yeah, it’s mine, now.”

“Can I ask for a favor? It’s pretty pathetic, but… I’ll ask anyway. Do you want to be a worshipper for me?”

“What’s in it for me?”

“I already helped you. You owe me.”

All the emotion on Tenthé’s face drained away, leaving nothing but cold.

“Okay, okay,” the God stuttered out, making pacifying motions. “Let’s not be hasty. It’s my calling. I do what I do, and things change as a result. I can’t tell you if the changes will result in something good or bad, but it’ll be different than if I hadn’t acted. That’s what makes me the God for the desperate.”

“I’m not desperate.”

“No, but I am.”

Tenthé laughed, then added, “Okay, sure. Why not?”

“You see, the advantages of picking me are… Wait, what?”

“Yeah. I’ll worship you.”

“Why?”

“ ‘Cause.”

The god chuckled. “Ha-ha. I think I’ve just been made a victim of myself!”

Tenthé leaned against the wall and slid down until he was squatting. He closed his eyes and thought about what the Lady had done for Mach-Anot. He couldn’t copy her, but he figured there was a way to use what he knew to do the same thing. The god loomed over him, watching, and, from his expression, not exactly sure what was taking place.

Tenthé calmed himself until his thoughts were clear and he could hear the beating of the Heart, then spoke very clearly, “I worship the God of Toast.”

Beside him, the god froze. His skin started glowing, becoming brighter and brighter, burning away the many impurities. The light kept increasing until the walls around them began to soften and, even then, the glow increased until the meaning of brightness made no sense. Then, with a soft pop, it all went away.

Tenthé opened his eyes and looked at the god. The old man was gone. In his place was a teenage girl, beautiful in her own way. Her hair writhed, she seemed to have too many fingers, and possibly a forked tongue. When she looked at him, the memory of the light was still in her eyes.

“Wow! That I didn’t expect!” The god whispered, “I can see so much, now!” and she began to cry. Tears of glow ran down her cheeks, turning into pixies as they fell. The pixies swirled around and flittered away.

What amazed Tenthé the most was that no-one else had noticed anything. Around them, the chaos of the explosion’s aftermath continued, yelling, screaming, and the occasional crash as something collapsed, but nobody came to investigate the blinding light.

The god turned to Tenthé. “I have no idea what you did. My worshipers are always the desperate, those who hope for the best but expect the worst.

“But, you… you didn’t hope or expect anything. You tapped into some power and poured it into me. Now… I guess I’m the opposite of the Turtle. He’s about stability, and I’m… not. Very much not.

“But neither am I random chaos. Hidden in what I do is opportunity. Things change and those changes can be exploited for an advantage.

“What you’ve made me so I may be, no, I will be GREAT!”

With that, Tenthé found himself outside, back in the square. He looked over. The temple entrance next to the wall was gone. Looking around, he couldn’t find it anywhere. He was impressed, even though, honestly, he had no idea what had just happened.

Tenthé walked to the center of the square and peered through the main gate to the outside plaza. He had to look up because the square was now a fair distance below the level of the surrounding City.

Deciding that this was probably was a bad time to visit the Turtle God, he made his way up to the gate and continued through to the outside. It wasn’t difficult since way was made up of jumbled paving stones, providing a lot of hand and footholds.

When he reached the road, he looked back at the temple. Whether by luck or design, one of the domes had blown out, allowing the energy from the explosion to go up, which, in turn, pushed the temple complex down. All around, rock and debris had rained down on the City Center, putting a few extra holes in the buildings. People were running around everywhere, but he had to give the God and Dreamer credit; there did seem to be some organization as the priests strived to deal with the mess.

This little visit had been quite informative. Tenthé had an idea about what he was going to do, now.