By James Bow

<<- Back to Chapter Seven

The Dream King's Daughter - Chapter Eight: Bouncing Off Clouds

Aurora looked up at the buildings that lined the alleyway. They were blank walls of brick, with only one window breaking the monotony. Two lamps near the window winked on in the early twilight.

Albijana hung back. "Why are you doing this?"

"Somebody has to teach Roger a lesson," said Aurora.

"Teach him what? How to hit a moving target?"

Aurora smiled at her. "It will be okay. Trust me."

Albijana looked at her a long moment. "What do you need me to do?"

Aurora handed her a couple of pairs of large black athletic socks. She pointed at the lamps. "I want this alleyway to be a bit darker. I'm not a good climber. Can you climb up there and pull these over the lights?"

Albijana took the socks, looked at the lamps, then looked at Aurora. "Okay."

As Albijana climbed up the posts and dragged socks over each lamp. Aurora looked around as the shadows deepened and the alleyway dimmed to twilight. 

Finally, Albijana slipped down to the pavement. "What now?"

"We wait, and you stay out of the way."

"That's all? What are you going to do? Why do you want it to be darker?"

Aurora just smiled. "You'll see." At least, I hoped we'll see.

They heard footsteps, the scuff of sneakers. They weren't alone anymore. Other kids clustered by trees, or fence posts, straining to get a good look without getting in the way. The alleyway filled up with mutters and giggles. Aurora touched the flashlight she had hidden up her sleeve. "It's almost time."

"Aurora," said Albijana. "We can still run. You don't have to do this."

"No. No more running."

The giggles stopped.

Roger sauntered into the alleyway.

#

Aurora and Polk stood up in the middle of the silent bakery-diner. Their shoes crunched on broken glass. No one else moved. The customers looked like three-dimensional photographs. Aurora turned to Dawn. "Mom!"

Dawn didn't move. Then she started to fade, along with the others. The people vanished like ghosts. Polk and Aurora were alone.

Outside, in the clear blue sky, thunder rumbled.

"He's got us," Polk whispered. "I should have known; when the sun dimmed, there weren't any clouds around. Just before we came in here, remember? It was a dream curtain."

Aurora shushed him. Polk's voice seemed impossibly loud in the silence. She thought she could hear her thumping heart. She strode out of the bakery and into the parking lot. The stores were all closed, even her mother's. Aurora tried the door and stared at the darkened window, feeling a pang of loss. She'd only just found her mom again. 

The few parked cars were empty. In the roadway next to the parking lot, cars stood in traffic, empty, their headlights on. "What's he done to all the people?"

Polk pinched his wrist. "Ow!" He pinched it again. "Ow! Oh, this is bad!"

Aurora swallowed the panic that was building in her throat. She ignored the traffic lights and crossed the road. The stoplights changed. The clicking of the switches in the lamppost sounded loud in the silence.

Halfway across the road, Aurora turned and walked along the yellow line that ran down the centre. The wind whistled through the telephone wires.

She stopped. Polk stopped beside her.

"This city's empty," Aurora said

"You think?" Polk said sarcastically.

"Except for us."

Thunder rumbled again. Aurora looked up and around. When she looked north, she flinched. The sky above was clear and bright, but the northern sky was dark. Clouds billowed onward like weather in a sped-up film. Lightning flickered over the buildings.

She swore.

If you're looking for someone, she thought, one way to find them is to remove everyone who isn't that someone. The person that's left is the one you want.

She watched the pouring clouds. Even in dreams, what kind of thing could make a whole city's population disappear, even the dogs? Heck, what if it wasn't just this city? What if me and Polk were the only two humans left on the planet?

A thing like that could squash me like a mosquito if it wanted to. So, why didn't it?

But if this thing is my father, he wouldn't want to squash me, would he? He'd want to hug me and hold me, kiss my scrapes and booboos and make it all better. He'd want to hurt those who'd taken me away from him. He'd tear the human race away to find me.

And that's just what this person has done.

But this can't be my father, she thought. There's no way I could be related to that!

"Aurora!" said a voice like thunder.

The voice came from everywhere at once, echoing off walls and hills, bouncing around buildings. Polk and Aurora were surrounded by warehouses and factories that blocked the view of the horizon.  Aurora looked around for a better vantage point. She spotted a ladder bolted to side of a long, squat building, the sign on which advertised "5 Pin Bowlerama". The ladder led to the roof. She ran over and clambered up the metal rungs, Polk close behind her.

They stepped out onto the gravel-covered roof. The northern sky stretched out above, black and boiling.

"Aurora!" The voice made the roof shake.

"Where's it coming from?" She looked around but saw nothing. Polk looked at the sky. He leapt back in shock. "Sweet Jesus!"

Aurora looked at the northern horizon.

The northern horizon looked back.

The clouds had formed a face. A trick, Aurora told herself, a slant of the early sunlight that turned the vapours shiny white or night black. Shadings formed eyes, nose, lips, in the shape of the man who had come to the diner, all in black, right down to his eyeballs.

A trick of the light. Except that the cloudy lips moved. "Aurora. I have found you at last."

"Who... are you?"

The face in the clouds smiled. "I am the Dream King."

Gravel scrunched behind her as Polk slipped back against the wall of a utility hut.

Aurora clenched her fists. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. She licked her lips. "Why have you been chasing me?"

"Don't you know me, Aurora? I am your father."

Aurora stared at the cloud face, her hands clenched at her sides, searching for something familiar, either from distant memory, or from her own gaze into a mirror. Nothing.

The clouds frowned. "I can tell you don't recognize me. They would have made sure of that, wouldn't they? I haven't seen you since I held you as a newborn in my arms."

Aurora sucked her teeth. Then she said, "I know who you are. What are you?"

"I am the Dream King," the cloud rumbled. "I balance the dreamworld and guide the dreams of humanity. I have searched everywhere for you, looking in people's dreams, listening for the signal of your mind. I almost had you years ago, but your kidnappers hid you again."

"Those weren't my kidnappers! They were Mom and Aunt Matron, the people who loved me and cared for me and brought me up..." She broke off.

Mom who'd brought me up... until three years ago when, in terror, she'd hid me away in some out-of-the-way place and tied me down under layers of false memories that hid who I really was.

She began to understand why she'd felt so angry at her mother, now, and Aunt Matron. They'd never let me be myself. I wasn't some country waitress trapped in some dead-end village, but I don't know who I am. Mom never told me. Nobody had let me find out who I really was.

Maybe this Dream King could tell me.

But she felt so small under his sky-sized face. In those eyes, how could I be anything but the smallest insect?

Keep him talking, and figure out where I can run.

"What do you want?" she shouted.

Laughter rippled across the dead city. Warm, but tinged with - could that be nerves? "You're my daughter, Aurora. I've spent years looking for you. I've abandoned my duties and thought of nothing but you. And at last, I've found you. Now I can bring you home."

Aurora tried to think of the sort of bedroom she'd have in the Dream King's house. She guessed it wouldn't be the sort of place where you could hang posters.

The cloud face shifted. The eyes widened and the mouth twisted with longing. "Come with me, Aurora. Come home."

Aurora took a step back. "No."

The clouds grew darker. Polk stood at the top of the ladder. "Get ready to run," he hissed.

"Aurora..." The warning thunder rippled across the bricks and asphalt.

"No," she said again. "You didn't ask to see me, you didn't write, you didn't come up to me quietly and introduce yourself. No. You tried to take me by force. You sent a snake man to stalk me! You attacked Matron! You attacked Polk! You attacked me! What father does that to his child?"

Lightning flickered around the edge of the Dream King's face. "They've turned you against me!"

"Listen!" Aurora yelled. "I've lived sixteen years without knowing you. I don't need you in my life, so just send a birthday card next time! Go away!"

Thunder shook the ground. "Come back to me!" The Dream King's face twisted in anger... and kept twisting. The eyes bled black. The cheeks ripped open. The mouth stretched into a gigantic cavern. Darkness spewed out, a thick cloud of black shapes that filled the sky with beating wings. Crows!

Polk darted back and grabbed her arm. "Run! Now!"

The cloud of crows swept closer and closer. Aurora turned to run. No, she thought. We can't run. We've got to fly! The words came from some instinct deep inside. We've got to fly. We can't run; they're too fast. This is a dream, so we've got to make it happen. C'mon, fly! Fly! Make me fly! In her mind's eye, she imagined a gigantic bird grabbing her up and sweeping her to safety.

She pulled free of Polk's grip and ran towards the parapet. "Polk! Help me! Now!" she shouted, reaching behind her without looking.

A talon gripped her forearm and lifted her off her feet. Aurora looked up in astonishment. A wingspan of a giant kestrel filled her vision, half the width of the roof. Polk squawked.

"What the hell am I doing?" he screamed. "What's happened to me?" It was Polk's voice, but it came out as a screech from the beak of the gigantic kestrel. His talons loosened. Aurora slipped. They sailed over the edge of the building parapet.

She clawed at him, pulling large feathers from his chest. "Hold onto me!" she shouted. "Whatever you do, don't let go!"

"But, how--"

"Shut up and go! Go!"

The cloud of crows was almost upon them. Polk clamped back down on her shoulders. His claws dug in, but Aurora didn't protest. "Faster!" she shouted. She gripped his spindly legs. "Faster!" With a great swoop of his wings, they sailed forward, rising above the buildings.

The crows spread out like buckshot, a cloud that towered over them and stretched across half the sky. Polk flapped desperately. The wind beat at Aurora's face and tore at her clothes, but the birds' cries filled her ears. Beneath her, rooftops and squares of green parkland swept past. They followed the sweep of the river that cut through the centre of town.

"Faster!" she gasped.

Polk squawked. "What's that?"

Aurora looked. A white speck came into view ahead of them. It was a dove, flapping desperately. And just like Polk, it was huge.

It was sweeping right at them. There was no time to avoid it. Aurora yelled and closed her eyes.

The dove shot past. The wind of its wake buffeted Aurora's face. She heard it meet the cloud of crows with a sound like snowballs pelting a brick wall. She grabbed a look over her shoulder and saw the cloud of crows disintegrating. The dove wheeled and clawed, covered in black specks, some of which slipped off and fell to the ground.

But most of the flock swept onward.

Aurora looked around for something she could use to stop them. Flying through the air, there wasn't much at hand. Okay, nothing.

A park stretched out below, along both sides of the river. Behind her, she heard the flapping of wings grow louder. If only we could hide under the trees, she thought.

The trees in the park twisted. A webwork of greenery slithered upward, like vines on an invisible trellis. Polk and Aurora shot past it. The impromptu fence rose behind them. The first crows smacked into it and got tangled among the branches.

Polk flew on.

Gripping his legs, Aurora looked back. The crows buffeted the leafy fence. The sky behind it rumbled and flashed. And then the darkness grew translucent. The plants and the crows faded from sight, and the clouds broke apart and faded into blue. The northern sky was clear again. The giant kestrel and its passenger flew alone over an empty city.

Polk sagged. He grunted with the effort of flapping his wings. They started losing altitude. He gasped. "I... can't..."

Aurora looked ahead to the roof of a high-rise apartment. It was the closest. It also happened to be the tallest building in the city. "There! That building! Set down there."

Polk puffed the distance. Aurora saw the roof rise up faster than she wanted it to. She cartwheeled her legs for the landing. Her feet struck gravel. Polk let go and she sprawled.

He fell forward, his legs giving way as they touched down. He skidded over the roof, turning as he slid from bird to human. He jolted to a stop, then painfully pushed himself up onto hands and knees. "What... just happened?"

"Sleep," said Aurora. Polk fell forward and lay still. Like an enchanted prince, she thought. 

Which makes me what? The wicked witch?

But he needs a rest, she told herself firmly. And I need time to think alone.

She picked herself up and brushed herself off. She rubbed the spots on her shoulders where Polk's claws had dug in. Then she walked to the roof's edge and leaned against the parapet, staring north at the clear sky. The breeze fluttered her hair. She thought about what had just happened.

She looked at her hands. She remembered what she'd told Britney.

"You've already imagined a fence, right?" said Aurora, "and it came true?"

Britney nodded. "But he jumped over it," she mumbled.

"And you've already imagined a door, right," Aurora continued. "So you know that you can imagine whatever you want in the dream, and it's right there in front of you. Right?"

And not just the dream, Aurora thought. I asked for a ride, and we found the rail truck. I could stop snakes in mid strike and make new ones burst from the ground.

And now she was in a dream -- in her element, even though she never slept. She could turn Polk into a bird. There was no limit to what she could do.

She looked at her hands again. No limit at all.

She walked backwards from the parapet until the whole edge of the roof and the buildings beyond were in view. She closed her eyes. "Let there be a fence," she said.

She opened her eyes. Around her, on the roof inside the parapet, a bare metal fence, a railing with posts, guarded the edge.

She kept her eyes open this time. "Make it a picket fence!"

The metal turned white. The posts multiplied and aimed points at the sky. The railing became a wooden crosspiece.

She clicked her tongue thoughtfully. She hadn't said what colour. Maybe she'd thought it. "Higher!"

The white pickets stretched up and up, aiming for a vanishing point in the sky.

Lower, she thought.

The pickets shrank down.

Huh, she thought. I don't even have to talk out loud.

Stop.

The fence stopped at waist height and stayed like that.

Aurora looked at the high-rise across the street. She motioned at it, palm up.

The building rose up like a silent rocket. Floor after floor flicked past her, and then came the foundation, ripped out of the ground, dirt and chunks of concrete streaming off.

She held out her hand, palm down, and lowered her arm. The skyscraper slowed, stopped, then began to descend. It met the ground with a dull thud. 

Aurora looked to her left and right, then raised her arms. Every building, every house, every church steeple, every tree, rose slowly into the air. Aurora gently waved her arms, and the waves travelled out across the city, ripples in a sea of cement, steel, masonry and greenery beneath the morning sky.

Aurora dropped her arms to her sides and looked at the undulating skyline. A new-found sense of power rose in her chest and tickled her throat. She laughed.

Okay! Now what?

Polk stirred and muttered in his sleep.

What could I possibly test that would tell me the limits of my power? She looked at the sky. Okay. She took a dozen steps backward, focused on the parapet in front of her, and braced herself.

Beside her, Polk rolled over and looked up. "Hey, Aurora. What--"

Aurora sprinted forward. The parapet bounced in her field of vision. Beyond it, the Saskatoon cityscape rose into view.

Polk jumped up and ran after her. "Aurora!" He grabbed her just as she cleared the parapet. They fell.

The wind beat at her face. Glass and concrete flashed past, upward. The lines on the road below grew more and more distinct. And, behind her, someone was screaming.

As she looked over her shoulder, her arms and legs splayed out like a skydiver, she caught sight of Polk, falling with her, eyes staring and face white against his wind-flattened hair.

Aurora twisted around in mid-air, grabbed his outstretched hand, and pulled him closer. He clutched her desperately. She could just hear his screams over the scream of the wind in her ears. The ground was getting awfully close.

She closed her eyes and concentrated. She felt the wind ease up. Polk pressed against her as they slowed. She eased herself upright and held onto Polk as they stopped falling. Then she let go of him.

Polk stared at her a long moment, gasping. Then he filled his lungs. "What the hell did you do that for?!"

Aurora started to speak, but then she realized that she was out of breath too. She took a moment to catch it. "Just testing a theory."

"What theory?" yelled Polk. "Gravity? News flash, Aurora: it works!"

She grinned. "Not here, it doesn't."

"What--"

"Two things. One, we just jumped off the tallest building in Saskatoon and didn't get mashed. And two: we didn't actually land."

He looked at his feet. He was standing six feet off the ground. He yelped and fell the rest of the way, landing in a heap.

Aurora giggled.

"That's not funny!" Polk picked himself up off the sidewalk and brushed himself off. He gaped up at her as she floated. He walked around her and underneath her, looking for wires. Aurora hovered with her hands clasped behind her back.

"What--"

"This is a dream, remember?" said Aurora.

"Oh." Polk closed his mouth. "So, you thought you'd test it out, and see if you could, what, fly?"

Aurora floated down to the ground. The asphalt scrunched gently underfoot. "Seems to be working."

"That was--" He struggled for the right words. Finally, he said, "That was insane! You had no idea it would work, and you just jumped off a building?"

"Hey, I turned you into a bird, didn't I? Don't you think that's a sign that the normal rules don't apply here?"

"Well, this isn't your personal playground, okay?" Polk stormed off down the road, shaking his head, fists clenched.

"Polk?" Aurora shouted. She ran after him. "Polk, wait!"

He stopped so suddenly, she bumped into him. He looked around at the buildings floating up and down the street, rising and falling in their aerial ballet. "Did you do this?"

Aurora smiled modestly. "Yeah."

"Way not to draw attention to yourself."

She blushed. She swept out her hands, and the buildings sank onto their foundations with the groan of mountains settling.

"Okay." Polk looked around then strode off towards a mini-mart on the ground floor of a high-rise apartment. Aurora ran to keep up.

The door swung open as they approached. Aisles of cans and produce stretched out on either side. Near the cash, a deli counter offered stools, and seats around two tables.

"Polk, stop!" Aurora shouted.

"Why don't you just stick a wall in front of me?" he shouted back. "That'll stop me real quick."

"Polk, I-- I won't do that. Please stop?"

He stopped, then turned and looked at her, arms jammed in pockets, shoulders hunched.

"Polk, what's wrong?" Aurora twisted her hands together. "This is good news, isn't it? We're not as helpless as we thought."

"You, maybe," said Polk. "Does that give you the right to turn me into a bird or put me to sleep? Or scare me half to death with your suicide tricks?"

Or invade your dreams, Aurora thought. She looked at the floor. "I'm sorry." 

He looked at her, then looked away. "It's-- Okay, I understand. Well-- I don't, but..." He sighed. "I know what it's like, to suddenly discover you have new powers. You want to use them."

She cocked her head. "You have powers too?"

His cheeks flushed. He traced the outline of a tile with his shoe. "Uh... yeah. I haven't told anybody about this. Nobody knows."

"What do you do?"

He looked up at her, then down. "I can slow down time."

"Slow down time?"

"Yeah."

"Anything else?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like, can you stop time?"

"No."

"Can you speed it up?"

"Er... I never tried. I generally can slow it down just a little, for a little while." He gave her a grin. "I... er... I use it to take longer naps."

Aurora steepled her fingers over her mouth. Her shoulders shook.

"It's not funny," he grumbled. "Yeah, I'm a little jealous of you, right now. You have all these powers. My dad seems to have been a king of daydreams or something."

Aurora snorted. She turned away.

"It's not that funny!" he snapped. "I mean, it works out well for everybody. I have time to work for Matron, and I get a couple extra hours of sleep."

Aurora burst out laughing. She doubled over. Polk scowled. Then he began to chuckle too. Then they were both laughing, stress and adrenaline pouring out of them.

Aurora drew herself up, wiping the tears from her cheeks. "I'm sorry, Polk." Then, more seriously: "Really, I am. I'm sorry for dragging you into this, and for doing all those things to you."

"That's okay, I guess. We were being chased."

"And I'm sorry I looked into your dream and found out how you really felt about me."

His cheeks reddened. "Well... I might have told you, eventually."

She came forward, took a deep breath, and held out her hand. "Friends?"

The flash of disappointment in his eyes lasted only a second. He clasped her hand. "Friends."

He gave a little grunt of surprise as she reached up and clasped the back of his neck, pulled him down and kissed him. Time slowed as they lingered on it. Polk put his arms around her and held her tightly. Then she let him go and stepped back.

Polk stared at her, his eyes shining.

"Oh, and Polk?"

"Uh-huh?"

She grinned at him. "In your dreams."

He reddened again, but he flashed her a grin. "Careful, there. We're in a dream."

She shrugged casually, though her face felt hot. "Yeah? So?"

His grin vanished. Suddenly, he reared back, crying out. His body shook and jerked. Aurora yelled. Polk crashed to the floor, two metal barbs stuck in his back, attached to wires. Salvadore stood over him.

Aurora raised her fists. "You!" she snarled.

He flashed a smile at her and began fishing through his pockets for a new set of wired darts.

"What is this, the third time you've tried to grab me?" she said. "I'm surprised the Dream King hasn't fired you."

"Actually," said Salvadore cheerily. "He terminated my employment." He beamed at her. "He didn't like my methods, apparently; said so, after you complained, I was lucky to escape with my life." He found what he was looking for and pulled out a new nozzle for the stun gun. He reloaded. "So that means I'm back to my original plan: to capture you for my own purposes."

"If you hurt me, he'll kill you," she said quietly.

"Actually, I never intended to hand you over to him," said Salvadore. "I was there to thwart his quest. Trust me, I may like my share of screaming, but I'm not stupid. You're a threat to everything, girl. Having something to hold over the Dream King? That's an added bonus. After all, a man in my position has ambitions."

"What do you mean, your position?" said Aurora.

"I'm a number two. An opposing figure, if you will." He shrugged. "Who do you think balances the King of Dreams, girl?  Weren't the snakes and the spiders enough of a clue?"

Polk struggled up on hands and knees. Aurora knelt beside him. She looked up at Salvadore. "I get it," she said. "Nightmares."

Salvadore smirked. "I also do bats, standardized tests, and suddenly finding yourself naked with everybody pointing at you and laughing."

Aurora looked past him. A flurry of cans rose up two aisles over, like a metal dust storm. She looked back at Salvadore.

He slid the new pins into his stun gun and looked up. "So, will you come quietly? Oh, of course not. Silly me." He aimed the device.

There was a sound of clanking feet. It was a strangely heavy, metallic sound, with a hint of sloshing liquid. Clomp! Clomp! Clomp!

Crouching on the floor, Polk looked up. He scrambled back in horror. Aurora stood up, holding Salvadore's eyes.

Around the end of the aisle, a tall scarecrow figure made of canned vegetables marched into view. It turned and clanked up behind Salvadore. It stopped a pace behind him, bean-can hands on baby carrot hips.

Salvadore froze. He looked at Aurora, who was smiling.

Tin Can Man reached out and tapped Salvadore gently on the shoulder.

Salvadore turned around. And looked up.

The monster looked down at him and cocked its extra-large can of tomato soup head.

Aurora grinned. "I can do nightmares too."

Salvadore ducked, but not fast enough.

Clonk!

He sailed into the air, cleared the shelves two aisles away and landed in the pineapple display. Tin Can Man clanked slowly after him.

Polk staggered to his feet, clutching his side. Aurora helped him up. "Told you we weren't helpless," she said.

"That..." Polk gasped. "...was evil!"

"No," said Aurora. "This is evil." She cackled theatrically and pointed at the ceiling. Her voice echoed from the store's PA system. "Cleanup in aisle three!"

She pulled Polk along two aisles and towards the pineapple display. Salvadore lay in the middle of a mass of rolling pineapples. Polk skidded on a squished orange. Tin Can Man stood to one side, hands on his hips.

"What are you doing?" asked Polk as Aurora let him go.

"I need to know." She kicked aside a splattered tomato and pushed back a mass of crushed apples. She knelt over Salvadore. His head was tilted back and his eyelids fluttered.

"Look at me," she said. "Look at me."

He squinted at her blearily.

"What am I?" She stared into his eyes. "Tell me what I am. What we are."

He struggled to look away, but Aurora peered close. Her eyes held him. She could feel the tips of his dreams like invisible tendrils around his head, brushing her face. She reached out with the fingertips of her mind, grabbed one, and pulled.

Salvadore yelled.

Polk started forward, but Aurora put out her hand. She stayed focused on Salvadore. "Come on," she snarled. "Let me see!"

She pulled harder.

Images burst on her.

Matron holds a squalling infant. Dawn lies semi-conscious in her hospital bed.

"What," says Matron slowly, "do we do, with the baby?"

Silence rings the room. The other figures stand around, battered. They look at the ceiling, or the floor. In a corner, a young Polk sucks his thumb.

"What?" says Matron more loudly, "do we do, with this baby?"

More silence.

"He won't stop looking for her," says Matron. "I wouldn't if this were my daughter. So, we have to hide her. How?"

Salvadore steps forward and brushes fingertips over the newborn's hair. "You know, there is an easier way."

Matron pulls the infant away as Salvadore makes a grab for it. "No, there isn't."

"Yes, there is. I can see it's on your mind, Matron. You're saying it to yourself again and again. It would be so much easier, solve so many problems, if this baby were dead."

"That's not who we are," Matron snaps. "That's not what we do!"

"Nonesuch!" says Salvadore. "I know what you do to protect the dreams of children, Matron, and as for me, where is fear without the threat of violence? And where is the threat without the act? Death's counterfeit and all that? Shakespeare was more right than he knew."

"No!" Matron shoves him away. Dawn is waking up, her eyelids fluttering.

"What happened?" she mumbles. "Where's my baby? Give me my baby!"

Matron lays Aurora on Dawn's stomach. "Here's your baby," she says softly. She kisses Dawn atop her head. "We'll protect you. But you've got to run."

Aurora blinked back to reality. "What--"

Salvadore's hand shot up and closed around her throat. She gagged.

"We've never had to deal with someone like you," he snarled. "We've never had so much power concentrated in two people. He didn't know what to do with it. He doesn't even know what happened! He just exploded because of you. It would be so much easier if you just died, right here, right now."

Aurora gurgled and clawed at the fingers tightening around her neck. Polk shouted, darted forward, skidded on mashed tomatoes, and fell. He slithered forward on his hands and feet.

Aurora forced herself to stop trying to claw Salvadore's vice-like hand from her throat. She pictured Tin Can Man. It clunked forward, shoved Polk out of its way, and swung its bean-can hand down hard. Salvadore looked up. His face went white.

Clonk!

Salvadore's grip relaxed. Aurora pulled free. She stumbled back, gasping, swallowing and massaging her throat. She scowled at Salvadore's slumped form, then looked up at Tin Can Man. The creature raised its arm for another strike.

"Aurora!" Polk shouted.

Aurora raised her hand. Tin Can Man dropped its arm. It tilted its head at her in a questioning way, then fell apart in a clatter of metal and sloshing liquid.

Aurora and Polk staggered to their feet. Polk gave her a look that was edged with something she didn't recognize. Could it have been fear? No! Why should he be afraid of me? "C'mon, let's go," she said.

Polk hesitated, looked down at Salvadore, then turned away.

The exit doors swung open for them -- they weren't automatic, she noticed; she had just pushed them open with a brief wave of her hand -- and they stepped out into the street.

They stopped in the middle of the empty road and looked around, uncertain.

"So... what do we do now?" asked Polk.

"Well, the good news is, we're not helpless. The bad news is, I don't know what else we can do except run."

"So, we run?"

"We can't run forever. That's the even... badder news." She took a deep breath. "Well, it'll give us time to think." She thought a moment. "We head south."

Polk heaved a sigh. "Again? Where now? Regina?"

"We could rest our feet, you know."

Polk's gaze tracked up as she floated five feet into the air above him. She smiled, hands clasped behind her head.

"Show off," he grumbled.

"Try it!" She grinned at him.

"Are you kidding me?'

"Go on, try it!" She waved him up. "It's your dream, too. C'mon, let's have some fun."

Polk looked at his hands and down at his legs. Then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He rose slowly into the air.

He opened his eyes again and blinked in astonishment. Then he tried to pick himself up faster. His legs kicked uselessly. All he could do was wait until he was within Aurora's reach. Then she grabbed his hands and pulled him the rest of the way.

Polk looked around at the empty street they hovered over. He laughed nervously. "'There is no spoon'," he muttered.

"What?"

"Never mind."

She let go of his hands and floated back a few paces. "So... Shall we fly? Easier than walking."

"Fly? Like..." He smiled and threw out his arms. As he moved, he changed. White feathers sprouted all over him. A gigantic kestrel flapped in the air. Off he flew.

Aurora laughed. "Oh, no, you don't! You're not beating me in this race!"

She threw out her arms. Feathers caught the air and brushed the high-rise windows as they swept her forward. The floors of each building became a blur as she flew after Polk.

They banked and cartwheeled, dodging between the buildings, Aurora chasing Polk. Their squawking laughter echoed off the glassy towers. Then, looking back at her, Polk let out a squawk of fear. He flew to a parapet and perched, staring down at her. Aurora flapped up beside him. He scuttled back a few steps.

"What?" She looked at him with first her right eye and then her left.

His head bobbed nervously. "N... nothing. It's all good."

She opened her beak to call him a liar. Then she saw her reflection in the glassy side of a tower across the street.

The reflection of a giant crow stared back at her.

Forward to Chapter Nine ->>