The Friendship Song by Nancy Springer Page A

wasn’t listening anyway. I was staring up at the hot dog lady, trying to know for sure who she was. She hadn’t moved, which was weird. She was still standing behind her counter with her arms stretched out like black wings. “Free,” she crooned. She looked at me.
    â€œGo away, Aly,” I told her.
    When Rawnie heard that, she stopped fighting me, went stiff instead, and turned her head to look. But I didn’t have time to say anything to her before the hot dog nearest to us changed and started to wiggle out of its bun. It was a fat night crawler, falling toward us.
    â€œEw!” You better believe I got off Rawnie fast. She grabbed my hand and scrambled up.
    The whole hot dog stand was melting, and the hot dogs were turning into worms, and they were crawling on the ground, or floor, whatever it was, and the woman was saying, “Scree!” instead of “Free.” She was a vulture, mostly, a black buzzard with a six-foot wing-spread and road-kill breath. Her bald head had spiralperm blond bangs that curled down over her beak. She pecked at the nearest worm to gobble it and grabbed another with one of her scaly clawed feet.
    Rawnie made a retching noise, then turned and ran. I ran after her. “Wait up,” I panted. My ribs still hurt, and I never could run as fast as she did anyway.
    Once we were around a corner she stopped and waited for me. When I caught up to her I felt so dizzy I had to lean against the wall with my eyes closed while I caught my breath.
    Rawnie said, “Harper, you all right?”
    I nodded.
    â€œJeez, I gave you a black eye.” Her voice sounded shaky. “God, Harper, I’m really sorry.”
    â€œYou don’t ever have to tell me you’re sorry for anything.” The words just came out, I didn’t have to think about them, and they were true. I opened my eyes to look at her, and she looked back and swallowed hard and nodded.
    I got myself moving, and we kept walking.
    â€œHow did you know it was Alabaster?” Rawnie asked after a while.
    â€œI dunno. I mean, it wasn’t her exactly.”
    â€œOkay, so we’re not exactly in Gus’s backyard either. But how did you know it was sort of her?”
    â€œI just guessed.” There were about three ways of looking at anything in this shadowland, so maybe if I went back and looked at the vulture again it wouldn’t be Aly. Not that I was going back. I told Rawnie, “Mostly, I just don’t think we should eat anything.”
    She shivered. “I’d rather die than take food from her.”
    â€œNo matter who offers it. Even if we’re both starving, we shouldn’t take any.”
    I couldn’t have explained why, because I didn’t know the reason. It was just a feeling I had, like I’d been in this sort of place once before with a harp in my hand. Like I knew some of the rules.
    Rawnie didn’t ask me why, though. She just looked at me and said, “Okay. I won’t forget again.”
    â€œHuh?” It was not as if I’d told her before. “Forget what?”
    â€œWho my friend is.”
    We kept walking. Running away from the Aly Bowman buzzard had got us all turned around, and neither of us knew anymore which direction we were heading.
    I was plodding more than walking. “You okay, Harper?” Rawnie asked me after a while.
    My eye hurt and made my head throb. Also my ribs hurt. But I said, “I’m just dead tired. I wish we would find Nico soon.”
    Rawnie slowed down and pointed up ahead. “Look,” she said. “Light.”
    And there they were, the stage lights, all colors, and we could hear the music again, so strong and beautiful that I didn’t care anymore if I was tired and hurting and hungry. I looked at Rawnie and smiled.
    A couple minutes later we came out of the maze. We were in the circle at its center, where rows of seats faced a stage with a big red drum riser on it.