He was left frazzled, short of breath and clutching his chest over his rapidly-beating heart as the duster scrambled off of him.

Now some new nightmare had decided to rear its head, voices coming from all around.

"Haunted... haunted castle dream... not real... not a real place..." Did he fall asleep on Gershwin, or nap in the cart? He was dreaming, surely. His eyes closed and he focused on breathing.

He'll wake up soon and find out where he was. He'll be back on the trail to the Fair... or wake up in his own bed...