tree burst into life as a dark mass of ravens rose and rushed like a storm down the hill, cawing murderously.
âNo, Horace! Stop!â called Willa in alarm.
The lion turned and two golden eyes glinted in the dark, searching for her. She opened her mouth to call again, but something held her back. Fear.
The lion paced silently toward her tree, then paused. He was definitely bigger than before, fully twice the size of a normal lion. He was so close, she could have stretched out her foot and stepped onto his tawny back. But he didnât know where she was. His head swung back and forth as he peered about. Willa held her breath. The wind must have muddled her scent, because the lion snuffled this way and that but couldnât locate her. After a while the lion finally moved away, retracing his steps back up the hill.
Willa waited a long time, hugging her tree branch. Then she climbed down the tree, angry at herself. Why didnât you speak? It was just Horace, for heavenâs sake. Now Iâve got to catch up to him again.
She jogged along the trail, but the lion had gotten too far ahead of her. She decided he must have gone to the lookout point, which wasnât far. That was probably where Hacker and the paramedics had found him.
As she drew closer to the lookout, one sound grew louder â a weird rustling, soft and at the same time immense . The fog was thinning as Willa reached the clearing. There was no sign of the lion, but she now saw the source of the rustling. It was caused by a steady stream of shapes pouring out of the big black crevice in the rock: birds beyond count, beyond measure, birds rushing out like a river flowing up into the sky.
Willa stared. She was out of the fog now, with the night sky overhead, but she could see no moon or stars. They were blotted out by vast flocks of dark birds. The whole sky was moving, bubbling, and boiling. Staring up Willa could almost feel the earth beneath her feet mimicking the motion, shifting, sliding. It was making her dizzy. She reached out and held on to a tree to steady herself. She looked around again for the lion but couldnât see him anywhere.
Out of the flapping sound came familiar clacking noises, which were also growing louder. Willa ducked quickly out of sight as a group of Stork Men emerged from the path behind her. They gathered rather casually around the crevice, watching the birds fly out, then one by one they entered it, holding up an arm to shield their faces from the thousands of little birds that bounced off them before disappearing with the others into the sky.
Then the flow of birds suddenly ceased, the rushing sound faded away, and Willa was left in absolute silence. As she stepped out into the open, a shaft of light hit her like a spotlight. The full moon shone through a gap in the wheeling birds, and the lookout was bathed for a moment in white light.
The crevice was bigger than before, she was sure of it. It was utterly still and quiet inside.
She crept closer and gazed inside. The darkness looked back at her, and her eyes grew bigger to take it all in. She felt fear and hopelessness expanding inside her.
What should I do? What can I do? Iâm just a useless, stupid kid! Iâm just a kid, and Iâve got no one to help me! I canât count on anybody! An image of Belle and her mother flashed into her mind, both scowling, and she felt anger in her chest, swirling in a ball, picking up speed, and growingâ¦.
Belle left me, didnât even say goodbye. Mom doesnât care, Dad is no help, even Grandpa is mad at me. And Miss Trang is some kind of heartless monster. Nobody cares about me, theyâre all mean and selfish and â¦
She stared at the blackness, consumed by her thoughts, until she noticed the edges of the crevice moving. She blinked, and the scene came back into focus. The black stain before her was growing, slowly expanding. On the ground, rivulets of darkness trickled out toward her feet.
âNo, Horace! Stop!â called Willa in alarm.
The lion turned and two golden eyes glinted in the dark, searching for her. She opened her mouth to call again, but something held her back. Fear.
The lion paced silently toward her tree, then paused. He was definitely bigger than before, fully twice the size of a normal lion. He was so close, she could have stretched out her foot and stepped onto his tawny back. But he didnât know where she was. His head swung back and forth as he peered about. Willa held her breath. The wind must have muddled her scent, because the lion snuffled this way and that but couldnât locate her. After a while the lion finally moved away, retracing his steps back up the hill.
Willa waited a long time, hugging her tree branch. Then she climbed down the tree, angry at herself. Why didnât you speak? It was just Horace, for heavenâs sake. Now Iâve got to catch up to him again.
She jogged along the trail, but the lion had gotten too far ahead of her. She decided he must have gone to the lookout point, which wasnât far. That was probably where Hacker and the paramedics had found him.
As she drew closer to the lookout, one sound grew louder â a weird rustling, soft and at the same time immense . The fog was thinning as Willa reached the clearing. There was no sign of the lion, but she now saw the source of the rustling. It was caused by a steady stream of shapes pouring out of the big black crevice in the rock: birds beyond count, beyond measure, birds rushing out like a river flowing up into the sky.
Willa stared. She was out of the fog now, with the night sky overhead, but she could see no moon or stars. They were blotted out by vast flocks of dark birds. The whole sky was moving, bubbling, and boiling. Staring up Willa could almost feel the earth beneath her feet mimicking the motion, shifting, sliding. It was making her dizzy. She reached out and held on to a tree to steady herself. She looked around again for the lion but couldnât see him anywhere.
Out of the flapping sound came familiar clacking noises, which were also growing louder. Willa ducked quickly out of sight as a group of Stork Men emerged from the path behind her. They gathered rather casually around the crevice, watching the birds fly out, then one by one they entered it, holding up an arm to shield their faces from the thousands of little birds that bounced off them before disappearing with the others into the sky.
Then the flow of birds suddenly ceased, the rushing sound faded away, and Willa was left in absolute silence. As she stepped out into the open, a shaft of light hit her like a spotlight. The full moon shone through a gap in the wheeling birds, and the lookout was bathed for a moment in white light.
The crevice was bigger than before, she was sure of it. It was utterly still and quiet inside.
She crept closer and gazed inside. The darkness looked back at her, and her eyes grew bigger to take it all in. She felt fear and hopelessness expanding inside her.
What should I do? What can I do? Iâm just a useless, stupid kid! Iâm just a kid, and Iâve got no one to help me! I canât count on anybody! An image of Belle and her mother flashed into her mind, both scowling, and she felt anger in her chest, swirling in a ball, picking up speed, and growingâ¦.
Belle left me, didnât even say goodbye. Mom doesnât care, Dad is no help, even Grandpa is mad at me. And Miss Trang is some kind of heartless monster. Nobody cares about me, theyâre all mean and selfish and â¦
She stared at the blackness, consumed by her thoughts, until she noticed the edges of the crevice moving. She blinked, and the scene came back into focus. The black stain before her was growing, slowly expanding. On the ground, rivulets of darkness trickled out toward her feet.
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