Tymek slips into Toothland, a hidden kingdom beneath his own teeth, just as a creeping shadow begins to spread through its halls.
One rainy afternoon, Tymek lingered in front of the bathroom mirror, studying the white row of his teeth with a faint, stubborn grin. He knew he should brush them. He also knew he had been finding better things to do than brush them. The toothbrush waited in his hand like a tiny, harmless tool.
Then the air around the bristles twisted.
A cool pull yanked at his fingers, then at his whole body. The tiles blurred. The sink, the towels, the mirror all slipped away as if he were being drawn through a narrow tunnel of warm, pulsing walls and polished enamel.
When he landed, it was on something soft and strangely vast. He pushed himself up from the surface of his tongue and stared. Above him rose a hall of towering white columns, smooth as porcelain, disappearing into a dim ceiling of pink light. Tiny figures hurried across the floor in dental aprons and caps bristling like brushes.
"Welcome to Toothland," called one of them. She was small, sharp-eyed, and carried herself like a commander. "I'm Captain Tile. And you arrived at a bad time."
Before Tymek could answer, a stain of darkness slid out from behind a molar. Then another. They moved like smoke with a purpose, leaving a sweet, rotten smell in the air.
"Sugar," they whispered.
Captain Tile's voice dropped. "Those shadows have been spreading."