James Bow's Blog, page 4

The True Patriots

This photo, taken of a Canadian flag in Shediac, New Brunswick, was taken by Tony Webster and is used in accordance with his Creative Commons License.

I fly this flag at this time because I was asked to do so by no less than former prime ministers Joe Clark, Kim Campbell, Jean Chretien, Paul Martin and Stephen Harper, who wrote an open letter to Canadians asking them "to show the flag as never before" in response to the "threats and insults from Donald Trump."

I am happy to do my part, even though it may seem ironic, or even hypocritical, given that less than four years ago, many of us pulled back on celebrating Canada Day, given what was brought to light about the horrors our First Nations' children experienced in our residential schools.

The fact is, my country has a history, and a lot of it isn't good. There's the discriminatory treatment of Chinese Canadians like my grandfather. There's the checkered experience of those of African descent, looking for freedom at the end of the underground railway but also finding more racism and even segregation. There's the tragedy of the MS St. Louis and our response of "one is too many" when it comes to Canadian acceptance of Jewish refugees before World War Two. The fact remains that Canada is a colonial experiment, achieved through the dispossession and the displacement of the people who were here when we arrived, and the injustices continue in the form of racial discrimination and ongoing boil water advisories. This cannot be ignored.

My country is flawed, but I think it's important to celebrate our flag, accept our history, and demand the security of our future because we acknowledge that our country is flawed.

On July 5, 2021, Mike Pompeo, who served as the director of the CIA under Donald Trump, tweeted, "If we teach that the founding of the United States of America was somehow flawed. It was corrupt. It was racist. That's really dangerous. It strikes at the very foundations of our country."

This, I think, highlights the difference between Trumpists, and true patriots on both sides of the border. It's possible to love a country and acknowledge its flaws. Indeed, I would say that it is a duty of true patriots to acknowledge their country's flaws

Because refusing to acknowledge those flaws doesn't make those flaws go away. Indeed, it perpetuates the injustices that arise from them. When the United States was founded, many of its founders owned slaves (this was true, to a lesser extent, in Upper and Lower Canada as well). Ignoring that fact does nothing to fix the severe injustices that these realities presented, and still present to this day, as seen through such consequences as the Civil War, Jim Crow, the Tulsa Race Massacre, segregation and more. You cannot celebrate the fight for civil rights without acknowledging why it had to be a fight in the first place, and trying to do so gives oxygen to those who seek to reverse what gains we've made, deepening the country's shame.

My country is flawed, but a true patriot would admit that because it encourages people to get to work to fix these flaws, seek justice, make recompense, and turn this country into something we can truly be proud of. The fact that I can say this here on my country's soil gives me hope for my country. For as long as these words are said, the possibility for improvement remains.

Denial is not patriotism. You cannot make a country great by lying about its history.

In Other News...

On this day, eighteen years ago, I linked to the following video:

What do you think? Has this aged badly, or is it prophetic?

(Fiction Special) The Dream King's Daughter Chapter Seven: The Paris of the Prairies

The photo above is of downtown Saskatoon, taken from the University bridge by Trevor Pritchard. The photo is used in accordance with his Creative Commons license.

After fighting off Salvadore and reuniting with Polk, Aurora leaves the wilderness and She and Polk arrive in Saskatoon. It's time for answers, starting with who is the person Matron sent them to see. Read on to find out.

<Back to Chapter Six

The Dream King's Daughter - Chapter Seven: The Paris of the Prairies

Aurora walked to school in silence, following old routes on autopilot. Kids darted past, laughing and calling to each other.

She passed through an alleyway between a store, a row of houses and a park, a favourite shortcut for school kids because it was out of the eyes of the teachers. She side-stepped a group of kids kicking a ball about. Other kids bounced balls off the back of the store.

Turning a corner, she saw Albijana stumbling backward and landing heavily on the concrete. Roger and his stooges laughed as Albijana rolled over, clutching her wrist.

Roger stepped forward menacingly. Aurora darted in front of him as Albijana struggled to her feet.

"What did you do that for?" she yelled. "Leave her alone!"

Roger stopped, startled. The moment stretched out, then broke. He snickered. "Stay out of this, shorty. If you know what's good for you."

He made to pass her, but Aurora planted herself in his way. "Apologize!"

There was a gasp from the gathering crowd of children. Even Albijana caught her breath.

Roger rolled his eyes. "Get out of my way, squirt!" He tried to brush past her.

Aurora shoved him back with a grunt. Roger stumbled, more from surprise than from the shove. He scowled at her. "What the hell? You got a death wish?"

Aurora saw Anne at the back of the crowd, covering her mouth with both hands. Everybody stared at her in shock or dread. But a voice spoke up at the back of her mind. I can use this.

She trembled but kept her gaze steady. "I'm not afraid of you, Roger."

Roger grinned. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"You wanna fight?" He laughed.

She kept her gaze locked on his face. She tried to slow her thumping heart. "Sure."

There was another gasp from the crowd. And a flash in his expression. For a moment -- Aurora could hardly believe it was real, but it was there: surprise, curiosity, even a hint of fear. This wasn't going the way he expected. Nobody had ever challenged him like this before. But he clamped down on his doubts, and his glare hardened. He looked her in the eye. "Okay! Bring it on!"

And as she looked into his eyes, she saw it.

Darkness. Fire. Roger screams.

Got you.

"Not right now." She stepped back as Roger swung at her.

"I knew it!" he shouted triumphantly. "You're chicken!"

"No," she said evenly. "School starts in five minutes. You want to explain to the principal how you were late because you were busy beating up a girl?" She held her voice steady. "After school. How about after sunset? Right here. All right?"

He sputtered. "Me? Sure!" He jabbed a finger at her face. "Just be here, you little twerp."

He pushed past her and stomped off.

Aurora let out a long breath. She wobbled, dizzy. She leaned against the wall for support.

The other children stared at her. Some remembered the time and nudged their friends. They left for school, many of them looking back.

Aurora found Albijana standing by her side, staring at her in wonder. "Why did you do that?"

Good question, said something in Aurora's mind. "I couldn't just stand there."

"He'll kill you!" gasped Albijana.

Yup, said that part of Aurora's mind. But she gave Albijana's hand a squeeze. "Maybe. Maybe not. Will you help me?"

Albijana hesitated. She glanced after Roger and the other children. Then she looked at Aurora and nodded.

Aurora smiled. "Good."

#

The song of the rails competed with Polk's snores. The signposts counted down the distance to Saskatoon. Aurora kept an eye on the way ahead, watching for, among other things, the light of an oncoming locomotive that would send them scrambling out of the railtruck. But as they drove on, she kept glancing over at Polk.

"Who are you, really?" she muttered.

I could wake him up and ask him point blank, confront him with the images of his dream. It's not like he'd skip out while we were driving at sixty kilometres per hour.

She reached out to nudge him, but then the car ran over a rail crossing next to a grain elevator. In the light of the loading ramp lamps, she saw him sprawled in his seat, mouth open, drooling, a vicious red mark across his throat.

Aurora pulled her hand back.

He's stayed with me through all this, she thought. Even after I abandoned him. He may have hidden his true self from me, after I had confided in him my own special powers, but when I ran away, he ran after me. And gotten himself strangled by possessed saskatoon bushes.

So, he's on my side. But what side am I on?

Ahead of her, the sky lightened towards dawn. A new day. Then she thought, it's my birthday. I'm sixteen today. In all the excitement, the date had sneaked up on her without her noticing.

She gave herself a wry smile in the rear-view mirror. Happy birthday, Aurora!

The truck ran over another level crossing. The flashing red lights of the crossing arms blurred as she passed. The hills had given way to farm fields. She scanned for crows, but the sky was empty.

Crows, she thought. A man is hunting me who can control crows. He can trap me in dreams. He's powerful. How can I stop him?

But I have powers, too. I can see people's dreams by looking them in the eye. I somehow called up snakes to suck Salvadore into the dirt, and I found Polk. If this crow-man has all these extra powers that I didn't know about, what other powers do I have that I don't know about?

She sat back in her seat and stared out the windshield. How do you find extra senses you don't know you have? It's like exercising phantom muscles.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then another. And another. She cleared her mind. Made it free like a canvas, ready for the painter.

Come to me.

She opened her eyes and looked at the brightening horizon. Her mouth dropped open. "Whoa!"

She applied the brakes, and the rail truck coasted to a stop. She threw it into park, left the engine running, got out and stood on the embankment.

They were atop a small rise. Below her, Saskatchewan stretched for miles beneath a dome of midnight blue. The silhouette of Saskatoon's skyline poked up at the horizon, its glow lightening the sky.

And in the fields, floating in five lines, each a mile apart, translucent curtains of shade slipped back and forth across the wheat, like thin bands of rain without the clouds.

They made no sound. Around her, only crickets chirped.

"What the hell?" she whispered.

But she knew, instinctively, what they were.

They're dreams! These are the things he trapped me with when I slipped in and out of the real world. And they're impossible to see by day.

The passenger side door opened. Gravel crunched underfoot. "Aurora?" Polk mumbled. "What's wrong?" He followed her gaze and took a step back. "Oh, hell!"

Aurora looked at him. "You can see them too?"

He turned to her, opened his mouth to answer, and then froze. She could see the wheels turning.

"Yes," she said, "you've just given yourself away."

Polk groaned. "I'm an idiot!" He beat his hands against his sides. He kicked the side of the truck. He turned away and thumped the door with clenched fists. Then he looked at her. "You knew I was hiding something, didn't you?"

"Uh-huh. When you fell asleep last night, I overheard one of your dreams. I knew you had something to do with that crow-man who's following us."

Polk shook his head. "That's why you ran away, isn't it? You thought I'd betray you? After I walked across the wilderness with you? Through the heat, carrying that stupid canvas bag?" His voice rose. "Eating cold beans? Running after you and getting strangled by plants?" He pounded the roof. "How could you think that I would ever--"

"Then who are you, Polk?" she yelled. "What are you?"

"I'm not a monster or some alien, I'm just like you."

"If you're just like me, then I wouldn't be too sure about the not-a-monster part!"

His breath caught. He stared at her. "You're not a monster, either," he said softly.

"Then what am I?"

He looked away. "I don't know."

Aurora swore.

"I mean, I don't know how to describe it. It's just that... we're different. We don't really belong where we are, but we have nowhere else to go."

"Who are 'we'?"

Polk waved his arms. "You. Me. Matron. Us. We look human. I feel human, my mom was human, but I'm... not. Well, not completely. We..." He sighed. "We normally inhabit the realm of dreams."

Aurora tasted this on her tongue. "Realm of dreams?" she echoed.

"Well, we're not there now. We've scattered across Earth, trying to live like normal people."

She let out a short, sharp laugh. "Good luck." She looked up at him. "Why scattered?"

Polk looked at the curtains of shadow shifting back and forth in front of the sunrise.

"Because of the man in black? Who is he, Polk?"

His face was grim. "He's the king."

"The king of what?"

"Of dreams."

Aurora snorted in disbelief. "The king of dreams? I'm being hunted by the dream king?"

Polk nodded.

"What's going on, Polk?"

He rubbed his forehead. "Look, do you think we could talk about this while we're driving? We're wasting gas just standing here."

She looked at him a long moment, then opened the door. They climbed inside. She put the truck in gear. It sped up, and the ties between the rails became a blur again. She eased back in her seat and looked at Polk, her arms folded across her chest. He sat hunched up on the passenger's side, staring at his knees, his knuckles pressed to his lips. Finally, he spoke.

"I really did swear to protect you. Three years ago, when Matron told me you were coming, she told me that you were in danger and the Dream King would try to find you. She told me it was very important that this did not happen. She made me swear on the memory of my parents."

"That's a lot to dump on a kid."

"I could handle it," Polk said carelessly, still not looking at her. "I don't remember much... But I do know the Dream King killed my parents."

Aurora sat up in her seat.

"My father was... one of us," he said. "My mother was... a nurse, I think. I was just a little kid when it happened, so I don't remember. Matron took me in."

She had to clear her throat. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. It was years ago."

"How did the Dream King kill your parents?"

He flinched. "I don't know! Nobody knows for sure. It was like there was an explosion and then a great big fight to get him back under control. Then we scattered."

"Why?"

"The dream realm wasn't safe for us anymore, Matron said. Not with him... hunting."

They scattered, like my mom, Aurora thought. That wasn't Winnipeg I saw in my mother's dream three years ago. And she's been a school counsellor for as long as I can remember, not some fancy psychologist.

Then, is it true? Is the Dream King really my father?

Matron's words echoed in her head. You can't let him take you! It will be disaster if he does! Followed by Polk's hunting.

I don't want a dad like that.

They drove on in silence for several minutes. Finally, she asked, "Why are you doing this, Polk? Protecting me?"

"I told you, I swore--"

"On your parents' grave, who you never really knew," she cut in. "That's not a good enough reason to follow me across this wilderness. So why are you really here?"

He closed his eyes. "Don't ask me that. Please."

"Tell me."

"It's not important."

"Tell me!"

"Fine!" he shouted, rounding on her. "Look at me."

She looked him in the eye.

Polk walks across the gravel lot behind the diner and pushes aside the stalks of wheat as he enters the neighbouring field. He smiles as he wades into the waving sea of golden brown. The blue skies stretch on forever, and he shields his face from the sun.

The familiarity of Polk's dream swept over her, and she lost herself in the images for a moment, drinking in the security and comfort she'd known before everything went to hell.

Polk wades through the wheat. His heartbeat speeds up as he slips through the stalks towards the clearing where they'd arranged to meet.

Wait, thought Aurora. I haven't seen this bit before.

And there is Aurora, luminous in her jeans and t-shirt, beaming at him, reaching out to him. Polk takes her hand. She wraps her arms around him. They kiss. They--

Oh!

Huh.

Um...

Aurora stared at Polk. Polk looked away. "Happy now?"

"Uh." Aurora faced front and twisted her hands together. "Yeah-- uh, no, uh--" She swallowed. "How long...?"

"Since I first saw you." Polk sank into his seat. His glare could have burned a hole in the dashboard. "I thought-- I think... that you are very beautiful."

She looked at him in astonishment. He glanced up out the front window. "And now I think you'd better stop the truck."

Aurora snapped her attention back to the windshield. She jammed on the brakes. The railtruck skidded to a stop. A towering shade slipped silently up the rail embankment and over the rails in front of them, slow as a battleship in harbour. The rising sunlight shone through it as though it were gauze. It was hundreds of feet long, its top lost in the sky. She wondered whose dream it was or if it was a collection of dreams. Either way, she knew she didn't want to get caught in it.

"Okay," she breathed. "Just hold still..."

Polk held his breath.

A gap between the curtains crept across the landscape towards them. It looked barely wider than the truck. Aurora put the car in gear but kept her foot on the brake. As the gap eased itself up the rail embankment, she jammed on the accelerator. The truck shot forward. The gap slipped in front of them, and they sped through, with only inches to spare. The curtain of shade filled the rear-view mirror. Aurora breathed again.

The next line of shades was a mile down the track. The railtruck paused until a gap passed in front of them, then they zipped through. They stopped and started through the two lines of shades that came next. The sky brightened, and the silhouette of Saskatoon's skyline drew nearer.

The sky was pale green and peach with dawn by the time Aurora brought the railtruck to a stop in front of the last line of shades. They sat a long moment, engine idling, while Aurora peered out the front window. "These are getting harder to see in daylight."

Polk leaned forward, squinting. "Yeah. This is going to be a problem."

"Help me, Polk."

He looked at her. "How? What makes you think I can help you?"

"I only just realized I can see these things. You saw them right away. I can only see... like... super-thin bedsheets. They're like ripples of air."

"That's about what I can see, too, yeah."

"I need you to tell me when I can go."

They looked at each other. Polk faced forward. "Okay. Get ready."

Aurora strained to focus on the next gap in the final line of shades. The edges of the dark sheets looked ragged, as though sunlight had chewed through them. Keeping one foot on the brake, the railtruck in neutral, Aurora revved the engine.

"Now!" Polk snapped.

Aurora shoved the truck into gear and stamped on the accelerator. The truck shot forward. Suddenly, the vague patch of shadow in front of them solidified into a curtain that was directly across the railway tracks. Aurora gasped, but before she could hit the brake, the edge of the curtain came into view in front of her. The tracks were clear. The car sped through.

She glanced at the rear-view mirror, and her breath caught. The wind of their wake had plucked at the shade curtain and it was fluttering up, after them. The veil of darkness descended on the truck. Around her, Aurora heard the distant cry of crows.

Aurora pushed the gas as hard as she could. The truck sped up. The curtain floated down, brushing over the tailgate before settling back on the tracks. It drifted slowly across the fields, then vanished in a beam of sunlight.

Aurora looked at Polk and grinned. "Thanks!"

"Don't mention it." He looked away.

Aurora stared at him, but he didn't look back, so she faced forward. The railtruck drove on to Saskatoon.

#

They saw their first cars as they approached the city. A highway swung into view and paralleled the railway tracks. Aurora turned her head to watch the vehicles; it felt like days since she'd seen people in cars.

She stopped the truck at a crossing with a gravel lane leading off the highway. Ahead of them, they could see the skyline of the city.

"Here we are," Aurora said. "Saskatoon."

"The Paris of the Prairies," said Polk. "Well, what do we do now? Get out and walk?"

Aurora fished through her pockets and pulled out the paper Matron had thrust at her before she fled Cooper's Corners. The slip was torn, and water and sweat had made the ink run, but she could just make out what Matron had written. She pocketed it. "We could spend hours wandering through this city on foot. No, we've got to keep driving."

"Okay, but in what?"

Aurora looked at the dashboard and spotted a lever with an image of a set of railway tracks on it. She flipped it up. Machinery whirred underfoot as the metal wheels retracted. Then she pressed the accelerator and turned the steering wheel. The truck swung onto the gravel lane, bumping over the rails, and stopped by the side of the highway. They waited for a gap in the traffic, then drove off down the road into the city. Aurora felt the traffic close around her like a blanket.

"Okay," said Polk. "When I can afford a car, I'm buying one of these."

Aurora chuckled. "As if."

They followed the highway into the city. Aurora kept her eyes open for crows, strange clouds, or Salvadore standing on a street corner.

Then again, if what he said was true and he could appear a few feet away from somebody by way of their dreams, she could understand why he wouldn't use that power often. If he appeared here in traffic, in front of her car, she'd probably dent the truck. Twice.

After a couple of wrong turns, they found the address in a shopping plaza tucked among a field of box stores and swung off the road into the parking lot.

They stood at the edge of a patch of empty asphalt, buffeted by the sounds of traffic. A building stretched around two sides of the lot, filled with small stores that were still dark beneath a canopy that covered the walkway in front of them. Only the breakfast bakery at the end of the row of stores was open. In the breeze, Aurora caught the heady smell of baking bread. Her stomach rumbled. She looked at Polk and caught him staring wistfully at the bakery.

She touched his arm. "Let's find this place first. Then we'll eat."

His face fell, but he nodded and followed her across the parking lot. They looked for unit D, found the fourth shop from the end of the row and tried the door. It was locked.

Polk stood behind her and peered at the items on display in the window. "Huh." There were books about fairies in the window and a glass dish of crystals and semi-precious stones.

Aurora looked up at the sign. "'Mystic Dreamers'? This is some New Age shop. Why would Matron send me here?"

"Maybe because of this?" Polk pointed to the glass door near eye level. On the other side, dangling from the top of the door, was a glass spirit ball.

Aurora felt a feeling of familiarity, like deja vu.

"Matron didn't say who she was sending you to?" Polk asked.

"There wasn't time to tell me."

"So, what do we do? Wait?"

Aurora ran her hand over the door and touched the glass in front of the spirit ball. "I guess. Maybe we could have a little breakfast--"

"Aurora?" The tone of Polk's voice made her look up. He nodded over her shoulder. "Someone's watching us."

Aurora turned and saw a woman standing at the end of the covered sidewalk, framed in the early morning light. Aurora's eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open.

The woman stood with her arms limp at her sides, a bag of groceries forgotten where it had fallen on the ground, oranges rolling away across the parking lot and beneath parked cars.

She looked smaller and thinner than Aurora remembered. Her smart pantsuit had been replaced by a floral-print dress and a beige windbreaker, and her blonde hair was longer and wilder. She looked pale without make-up, as if she'd been bleached by the sun and hollowed out by the wind.

A lump caught in Aurora's throat. She cleared it away roughly. "Mom?"

Dawn Perrault's hands rose to cover her mouth. She dropped them and took a step forward, then another, and another. Soon, she was running. The air left Aurora as her mother threw her arms around her. Polk dodged out of her way. Aurora staggered back into a support column with a grunt.

"It's you!" her mother gasped. "It's really you! I thought I'd never see you again."

"Mom," Aurora gasped. Even Dawn's hair seemed thinner, brittle, like it could break in Aurora's fingers.

"Look at you!" Dawn cupped Aurora's face in her hands. "You've grown up! You're a young woman! I've missed so much."

"Mom!" Aurora struggled to free herself.

"What are you doing here?" Dawn was babbling. "How did you know how to find me?" She stopped. "Does Matron know?" Her eyes scanned the parking lot as though checking for hiding places.

"Yes, Mom. She sent us here. She said I could be safe here."

"What? How?" Dawn's gaze fell on Polk. Her eyes narrowed. "And you are?"

Polk flushed red and gave a little wave. "Um... hi! I'm Polk, Matron's foster son. Pleased to meet--"

Dawn suddenly whipped out her purse and fumbled through it. "C'mon, we can't stand out here. Inside!" She yanked out her keys with a spray of Tic Tacs and used Kleenex, unlocked the door and swung it open. "Inside! Now!"

An electronic doorbell tweedled as Aurora and Polk crossed the threshold. Aurora coughed at the rush of incense. Wickerwork and sackcloth muffled the traffic noise outside. The shelves held bowls of beads, carved wooden toys and bags of Fair Trade coffee. The counter was improvised out of milk crates and a single plank of wood. Then Aurora looked up.

The ceiling was festooned with spirit balls.

Dawn began to flutter about, moving papers off the counter and rearranging the bowls on the shelf. "Excuse the mess. Have you come a long way?" She gave them a quick glance. "Yes, of course you have. You must be hungry, but I don't think I have anything to eat."

Aurora stood in the aisle, surrounded by crystals and beads. Polk stood behind her. "Mom."

"Maybe we could grab a bite at the bakery," her mother went on. "They do a decent egg sandwich--"

"Mom!" Aurora cut in.

Dawn stopped. She looked at her daughter, her shoulders trembling.

There was so much Aurora wanted to say, so many questions, that the words caught in her throat. She looked around at the shadowy store, the improvised counter and the battered cash register. "You... you own a shop?"

"It pays the bills."

Silence descended. Mother and daughter stared at each other across the counter.

"Mom." Aurora's fists clenched and unclenched. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Dawn shook her head. "You were twelve, Aurora."

"Right! I was twelve. Do you know how frightening it is to have something like this happen to you when you're twelve? Do you know how frightening it is to think you're alone?"

"Yes, I know how frightening it is to be alone, Aurora."

"You knew!" Aurora yelled. "You could have told me--"

"I didn't know what to tell you!" Dawn shouted. "All I knew was that it wasn't safe for you anymore."

"So, you wiped my memories? You sent me away to hide with Aunt Matron? Some plan, Mom! Guess what: it didn't work!"

The colour drained from Dawn's face. "He came for you?"

"Yeah. Who is he, Mom? Is he really my dad?"

Dawn turned away and covered her face with her hands. Aurora stood, breathing heavily.

Dawn turned back, wiping her cheeks. Leaning on the counter for support, she looked Aurora in the eye.

Dawn steps forward. "Show me."

The Dream King's smile widens. He opens the door of his truck.

Dawn climbs in.

The truck drives out of the parking lot and onto the road, heading into the night. Faster it moves, and faster, breaking speed limits, but no one notices. The streetlights play off its shiny black exterior, fluttering off the mirrors, teasing the shadows like feathers. The wheels lift off. Wings catch the air.

The giant crow rises skyward, Dawn clasping the back of its neck. She smiles...

Aurora shook herself from the dream.

Dawn touched her wrist. "I'm sorry, dear. I'm so sorry. Look, let's... let's have some breakfast, okay? I'll think better if I have some coffee inside me. Then I can tell you everything I know. Please, Aurora?"

Aurora looked at her hands, then nodded.

"You two go on to the bakery," said Dawn. "I've got to write a note for the door: 'Back in 30 minutes' or something."

"Promise you won't run off?" Aurora said in a small voice.

Dawn crossed her heart.

"C'mon, Polk." Aurora walked out the shop door. Polk grinned nervously at Dawn, who glared at him, then followed.

As they strode along the sidewalk towards the bakery, Aurora said, "You don't have to be here for this, Polk."

"Uh, yes, I do," he said reluctantly.

"There's going to be a lot of tears."

"Maybe I could go to the back or something. Seriously, are you okay?"

"Sure, I... Well... Now that I'm so close to the truth, I-- This scares me."

The air darkened as though a cloud had passed in front of the sun. As they reached the bakery, Polk frowned at the bright blue sky and pushed open the door. The shop bell jangled as they entered. Aurora and Polk took deep breaths of air scented with fresh-baked bread. Then they looked up and saw the ceiling was also hung with spirit balls.

"Mom's doing good business," Aurora muttered.

"Hmm?" said Polk. Aurora gestured at the ceiling. He looked. His brow furrowed. "What's the deal with these?"

"They're... charms," said Aurora. "Harmless stuff to keep glass-blowers employed and less culturally appropriative than dreamcatchers. They're supposed to trap bad dreams."

Polk raised an eyebrow, then looked up at the spirit balls again. "She likes to be prepared. Protecting her store and her favourite coffee shop."

"Hey," said a waitress standing by the counter. "Have a seat!" She waved at a table by the front window. The restaurant was more than half full of factory workers or older couples, all eating breakfast.

Polk and Aurora sat. The waitress was by their side instantly. "Hi!" she chirped. "What can I get you?"

"Coffee," Aurora said.

Polk nodded. "Coffee."

The waitress flipped up her notebook and began scribbling. "And the breakfast special today is three eggs, any style, with your choice of bacon, sausage or ham, with hashbrowns and toast, just $9.95. Does that sound good?"

"Sure," said Aurora. "Scrambled. Sausage. Brown toast." She looked at Polk. "You?"

"The same."

"Thank you!" the waitress chirped. "I'll be right back." She fluttered off.

Aurora watched her go. "I'm not ever like that, am I?"

"Only if you accidentally put sugar in your coffee." Polk gave her a lopsided grin, and Aurora smiled to see it. She realized then that she didn't ever want to lose it.

She leaned forward and clasped his hand. "Look. I'm sorry. I should have trusted you."

"It's okay." He looked at his hand in hers. "Somebody should have told you. This would have gone a lot easier if there were fewer secrets."

"You're not kidding..."

"But not everybody has all the answers, Aurora," said Polk. "And they probably never will. You'd better be prepared for that."

"The Dream King might know," she said under her breath.

Polk stared at her as if he hadn't heard her properly. "Aurora, don't think that. You don't want to be anywhere near him. It'll be a disaster."

"Yeah, well, how do you know that? Did you see what happened? Can you explain it? I have a feeling that I'll only stop running once I get all the answers."

Polk looked out the glass door. "Here comes your mom. Let's see what she tells you."

The shop bell jangled. Dawn paused at the threshold, taking a deep breath. Then she crossed the floor and sat down across from them.

The waitress came sweeping in, plunking mugs of coffee on the table. "Here you go! And would the lady like anything?" She held her notepad at the ready.

"Nothing for me, thanks," said Dawn. "Just coffee."

"Sure!" the waitress chirped. Dawn waited until the waitress was away, then leaned forward. "Aurora--"

The waitress came bustling back and plunked the coffee down in front of Dawn. "Oh, I almost forgot," she said to Aurora and Polk. "We're out of sausages. Bacon or ham only for the special today."

"Bacon's fine," said Polk.

"Me, too," said Aurora through her teeth. "Thank you."

"Great!" The waitress beamed and whisked away. Dawn, Polk and Aurora looked at each other. Silence stretched.

Dawn took a deep breath. "Aurora--"

"Shall I top up your coffee?" The waitress was right beside them, holding the carafe expectantly.

The three stared at her in disbelief. Dawn turned to Aurora and said, "What do you want to know about your father?"

The waitress looked from Aurora to Dawn and back again. "Oh, is this a bad time?"

Aurora and Dawn glared at her.

The waitress laughed nervously. "I'll come back later, then."

Dawn turned back to Aurora and continued more quietly. "Love, ask me anything. You deserve to know. I'll tell you all I can."

"Who is he, Mom?" asked Aurora. "Is he really my father?"

Dawn steepled her fingers over her mouth and nose and sat still for a long moment. Then she looked Aurora in the eye.

"Before you were born," she began. "I ran a successful practice as a psychologist in Toronto. I specialized in hypnosis and the dream state."

"Now close your eyes, Sally, and tell me what you see."

"I'm flying, Dr. Perrault," says the child. "I'm flying over mountains."

"I dealt with night terrors," Dawn went on. "I was good at what I did."

"Where are you flying to?"

The child breathes deep. "Nowhere. It's so beautiful. I don't want to come back down."

Then the girl's brow tightens. "But something is pulling me down."

Dawn frowns.

"No," Sally whimpers. "It's dark!"

"But there was one particularly tough case," said Dawn. "A girl named Sally." She looked Aurora in the eye again. "Nothing would make her nightmares go away."

Aurora slips into Dawn's dream. She stares through Dawn's eyes at Sally, the little, brown-haired girl, sitting in a chair, her eyes closed.

Sally opens her eyes, and Aurora slips further in.

Dreams into dreams.

Sally stands in the middle of a forest. Aurora stands beside her, but Sally doesn't see her. The air breathes whispers. Sally sees faces at the edge of her vision, which disappear each time she looks at them. She hears the rustle of feet and paws approaching.

"Stay away!" Sally yells. "Stay away!"

Dawn's voice echoes from around the dreamworld. "You know what to do, Sally. It's your dream. Use it!"

Sally closes her eyes. When she looks around again, a wall is growing around her, brick by brick, rising up and closing above her head.

Dark leafy hands slam against the window. The oak door bangs and shudders against the beat of something heavy outside.

"It's not working!" Sally wails. "They're coming in!"

The door cracks, bulges.

Sally screams. Aurora rushes forward to hug the girl, but her arms pass through Sally's body.

Dawn's clinical voice echoes around them. "Sally, it's only a dream. You are in control. Find your strength, Sally. You need to find your strength."

"But suddenly, I had a breakthrough," said Dawn.

Sally stops, then looks up at Aurora. "Who are you?"

Aurora starts to answer, but realizes that Sally is not looking at her, but through her.

She turns around and sees the Dream King.

Aurora gasps and crabs back, but he doesn't look at her. He is a mass of shadow. He has dark hair and is wearing black jeans, black boots and a black shirt with a collar. Behind him stands Matron, smiling approvingly.

The Dream King gently lays a hand on Sally's shoulder.

Dawn's voice echoes. "Sally? What's going on? Who is with you?"

The man smiles at Sally, like the sun behind clouds.

"Who are you?" Sally asks again.

"Strength," he says, with a voice like thunder.

He kneels behind Sally and takes her hand, holding it out. The air shimmers in front of her fingers, and the walls distort in front of them, like clay beneath a sculptor's hand.

Sally focuses on her fingers and the world changes.

The door dissolves, leaving only sunshine and meadow behind. Somewhere in the distance, a dark shape screams its frustration. The sound fades.

Sally stands with the dark man in the world she created, on a top of a hill, overlooking a meadow.

"Fly," says the dark man.

And Sally flies.

Aurora blinked out of the dream. She rubbed her forehead and kept her gaze on the table.

"It was a miraculous recovery," said Dawn. "I've never had anything as good. I counted it up as luck, but that night... he appeared."

Aurora remembered her mother's dream.

"I have been wanting to meet you for a long time, Dawn. I've seen how you heal people's dreams. You're a Dreamwalker. I've watched your gentle hands at work--"

"I'm a psychologist. A hypnotist. I don't use my hands."

He laughs. "Will you come with me?"

She steps forward. "Show me."

He opens the door of his truck. Dawn climbs in...

"You met him that night." Aurora looked up at her mother in disbelief. "And you just went with him? You didn't know a thing about him!"

Dawn's eyes flashed with defiance. "I know it wasn't rational, but I don't regret it. I don't regret it at all. I have never loved anyone or have been loved in the way that he loved me."

Aurora shifted uncomfortably.

"It wasn't long before I was pregnant." Dawn looked down. "I never once thought about having a child until I was with him. And he stayed with me. We looked forward to our lives together, raising you." Her eyes darkened. "But it didn't work out that way."

"You ran," said Aurora. "Why?"

Dawn grabbed a napkin. She twisted it in her hands. "I had to. Something terrible happened."

"Mom, what happened the night I was born?" asked Aurora. "Why are we running?"

Dawn's breathing quickened. "Bad things. I don't want to remember!"

The waitress was at their table again. "Will you be having any dessert?" she squawked.

Aurora waved her away. "Not now, we're--"

Wait a minute. Squawked?

Aurora looked up. The waitress cocked her head. She looked at Aurora from first one eye and then the other.

Aurora stood up, knocking her chair back. Dawn screamed.

The waitress tucked her notepad under her arm. "The Dream King will see you now."

Then she flung out her arms. Above them, the spirit balls exploded. There was a flurry of feathers and glass shards. Aurora flung up her hands to protect her eyes. When Aurora opened her eyes, the door of the restaurant swung open to the jangle of the shop bell, and then the waitress was gone.

Aurora and Polk stared around at a restaurant that was full of statues.

Outside, Saskatoon stood silent and motionless.

The Premier Who'd Rather Dig a Hole Beneath a Highway

The photograph on the right of Doug Ford was taken in 2014 by Eunice Kim and is used in accordance with their Creative Commons License.

So, we're having an election this month in Ontario. Premier Doug Ford called it on January 28, and we go to the polls on February 27.

Obstensibly, Doug Ford called this election to act like Captain Canada and fight back against anticipated punitive tariffs leveled by a demented American president intent on annexing us. I must admit, I quite enjoyed seeing the conservative Ford talking smack about Trump and Musk. I applauded his punches, such as pulling American alcohol off of Ontario's shelves and cancelling his Starlink contract for satellite internet service across the province.

But then Trump blinked. Or, rather, followed through on his pattern of talking big, then backing down and claiming victory. His tariffs are supposedly on hold for 30 days, obstensibly in response to Canadian moves along the border that Trudeau largely agreed to when Biden was president. Ford has been left high and dry with no real issues to campaign on, save for a cockamamie plan to build a road tunnel beneath Highway 401 from Mississauga to Pickering. He even backed out of his plan to cancel the Starlink contract -- though, to be fair, he could argue that his move had its intended effect of stopping the tariffs, and cancelling signed contracts is expensive. Still, I would contrast Ford's response to that of Quebec, which is continuing to pursue its cancellation of its Starlink contract and is working with the federal government to set up a Canadian-made satellite internet system, but I digress.

You see, Ford now has a problem: the one excuse that made his early election call make any sense has been removed. And if people were paying attention, this wasn't actually his real reason for going to the polls early. Ford's been signalling his desire to hold an early election for months, now, long before Trump retook the White House.

On June 2, 2022, Doug Ford and his Conservatives won a four-year majority mandate in Queen's Park with around 40.5% of the vote. By tradition and, I believe, by attempts to legislate a fairer electoral process, that mandate lasts until June 2026. Ford's Conservatives continue to hold the majority of seats at Queen's Park and there are no serious challenges to Ford's leadership. Even when he had Trump's tariffs as an excuse to call a snap election, the moves he took during the campaign were things that he could have done without holding an expensive and unnecessary early election. So, why do we need to spend $189 million to go to the polls now in the dead of winter rather than in June 2026?

The only reason that makes sense is that Ford fears the result he'll face if he waits until the election date that tradition dictates.

Months ago, when Ford started considering calling an early election, he was looking at a situation in Ottawa where Trudeau seemed likely to lose big to the federal Conservative Party under Pierre Pollievre. History suggests that Ontario voters tend to hedge their bets when it comes to their elections. When a Conservative government sits in Ottawa, Ontario voters tend to vote Liberals into Queen's Park, and vice versa.

In summary: Ford is calling an election now because he thinks he's going to lose in 2026. So my question is, why should I vote for a premier who feels that he's already lost?

Dare Ford run on his record? When he was elected, he campaigned about stopping hallway healthcare in our hospitals and eliminating a persistent deficit run by the previous Liberal government. After seven years of Ford being in charge, the deficit is roughly the same, and our overstressed emergency rooms continue to be overstressed. The solution there is simple: invest more money in emergency room staff, nurses and doctors, but Ford would rather waste billions of dollars digging a hole beneath a highway.

As our cost of living increases and rents go through the roof, rather than spend money building decent and affordable housing where people need it, he tries to sell off flood-prone Greenbelt land to developers to create McMansions on the perphery of our cities. Instead of ensuring that our public transit is properly funded and in a state of good repair, he wastes money on unnecessary highways that won't see traffic for years. He attempts to bribe us with our own money in the form of tax rebates rather than spend that money tackling the issues that matter. And with this early and unnecessary election, he's moved to try and secure his own future at the expense of everybody else's.

It's worth noting that the last time an Ontario premier with a huge majority mandate called an election over a year before they had to, the result was the unexpected election of Ontario's only New Democratic government, even though said government (Liberal) went into the election with a 10-point advantage in the opinion polls.

Might something similar happen this time? Only time will tell. But it's worth remembering that Ontario voters have sniffed out self-serving premiers before, and we are quite willing to punish them for their arrogance.

Venom and Anti-Venom, they cancel each other out, right?

For the benefit of those trying to avoid misinformation, the answer is no.

The photo above is by Patrick Alexander from Las Cruces, NM, of Crotalus viridis, It is used in accordance with his Creative Commons License.

So, I recently posted chapter six of my lost novel, The Dream King's Daughter. This one required more editing than the other chapters because in my initial draft, I featured a scene where the villain Salvadore tries to capture Aurora by surrounding her with mysteriously controlled rattlesnakes. In trying to bargain for Aurora to come quietly, he holds up a syringe of anti-venom, telling her that if she doesn't come quietly, he'll force the issue by having the rattlesnakes bite her, leaving her at his mercy with his anti-venom.

In the original draft, I resolved the standoff by having Aurora manage to control the rattlesnakes herself through her strange powers and send them away. When Salvadore attacks her physically, she's able to stab him with his own syringe, at which point the anti-venom sends him into anaphylactic shock. While he begs for help, she coldly tells him to get his own snakes to bite him before she runs away.

As you can see, when I wrote this story, I had no clue how anti-venom worked, but I didn't let that stop me. I find it somewhat hilarious now that my vision of anti-venom was similar to that of anti-matter. Venom and anti-venom: they cancel each other out, don't they? So, if you get too much of one without the other, then we've got a problem, surely!

As I said before: no.

This would not have survived a proper edit, and it highlights why every book should get a proper edit, whether they're published traditionally or independently. I was fortunate to realize that I was operating with inadequate knowledge (thanks to new knowledge gained through my ability to pick up random trivia over the years). It did leave me with the challenge of finding a new resolution to Salvadore's attack. Fortunately, I'd happened to hear about the Narcisse Snake Dens and, wanting to keep the snake motif, came up with a solution that, frankly, feels a little scarier, as it shows off more of Aurora's powers earlier.

(Fiction Special) The Dream King's Daughter Chapter Six: Solitude

The image above is entitled NS MOW and is by JPMueller99. It is used in accordance with his Creative Commons License.

We are now at the halfway point of this story. This chapter required a bit more editing (more about that later) before I was ready to publish, but it's also one of my favourites, because of its connections between the two main storylines (Aurora at 12 and Aurora at 15-16).

So, in the previous chapter, Aurora and Polk strike out cross-country, eventually following a quiet rail line across rural Saskatchewan on their way to Saskatoon, while Aurora makes connections between her strange abilities and the forces that are pursuing her. She confides in Polk, and they enjoy the time that they share... until the following night when Polk sleeps, and Aurora inadvertantly picks up the dreams he's been broadcasting. Those dreams show that Polk was connected to the dark man who is following her, and has known more about her than he's let on. So Aurora now strikes out alone. What dangers await? Read on.

<Back to Chapter Five

The Dream King's Daughter - Chapter Six: Solitude

The following Monday at school, Aurora found herself in the cloakroom, hanging up her jacket beside Anne. The two girls looked at each other.

"Hey," said Aurora.

"Hey," said Anne.

They stood in silence.

"Look," said Anne. "I'm sorry."

Relief flooded into Aurora so hard it made her dizzy. "I'm sorry too!"

"It's just that... yeah, you're right, I'm jealous," said Anne. "Your mom can afford to get you all the good stuff, and my parents can barely get me a cake on my birthday. I just... I didn't think you could see it."

"I didn't," stammered Aurora. "It's... complicated."

"I like you," said Anne. "You're a good friend. I just wish---"

"I know," said Aurora.

They clasped hands. Without meaning to, Aurora looked Anne in the eye.

Laughter ripples through the classroom, rising in waves to a crescendo. Aurora stands in everybody's sights, her presentation forgotten, eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Um..." Aurora's mouth opens and closes. Tears trickle down her cheeks. Even Miss Daultry is laughing.

Aurora snatched her hands from Anne's grasp. She backed away.

"What?" said Anne, blinking at her. "Aurora, what?"

Aurora turned away and stormed out of the cloakroom, leaving Anne behind.

At the door to the classroom, Aurora ran into an oncoming flurry of arms.

She recoiled, but Albijana caught her and wrapped her in a hug. Aurora stood, arms locked to her sides, as Albijana held her close.

"It worked!" Albijana squeezed tighter. "It worked!"

"What worked?"

"In my dream. When the planes came, I chose to fly. I found my Dad and we flew away."

The light dawned. "You did?" Aurora broke into a grin.

Albijana nodded vigorously. "I did! We flew over the ocean! We stood on clouds!"

Aurora hugged Albijana. "That's great!" Then she gently eased Albijana's arms away and stepped back. "That's wonderful!"

Albijana beamed. "Thank you!"

At the head of the classroom, Miss Daultry clapped her hands and called the class to attention. Albijana turned and headed for her desk.

As Aurora watched, she felt herself grinning like an idiot, even as Miss Daultry rebuked her for not getting to her desk quick enough. She couldn't stop. Her heart felt suddenly and impossibly light.

I could use this, she thought.

I could use this.

#

Aurora stepped carefully in the waning moonlight, alert for holes or sudden dips she could twist her ankle in. The grasses brushed her jeans. The wind made the only sound.

By the time the sky was starting to lighten, she was miles away from Polk. Rolling hills surrounded her. She might as well be the last person on Earth, now.

When the sun peeked over her shoulder, brightening the landscape into ridges of flower and shadow, Aurora put it on her left and headed south. She was used to waiting tables. She was used to being on her feet all day. But her legs ached, and there was still far to go.

People can die in situations like this, she thought. People have died. I'm crossing a wilderness on foot at the height of summer. Only an idiot would try this.

Call me an idiot, then. What choice do I have?

The sun rose. Its heat pressed down on her back like a hand. The birds twittered. She hunched down, focusing on each step as she plodded forward. Step by step, she was getting closer to her goal.

Whatever that goal was.

The shadows grew shorter. The birds stopped twittering. Aurora's legs ached. Her head ached. She stopped and gulped down a bottle of water. She looked out at the rolling landscape and moaned.

A faint noise from behind her caught her attention. She looked around, but she was in a gigantic bowl and could see nothing. She listened hard. It came again.

"Aurora!" It was Polk's voice, at the top of his lungs, but at the very edge of her hearing. He was very far back. She couldn't see him. That meant he couldn't see her, either. She shouldered her canvas sack and wiped the sweat from her face. Taking a deep breath, she strode on faster.

Polk's cry echoed over the rolling landscape.

"No, Polk," she muttered. "Leave me alone."

"Why?" Anne fell into step beside her. "Why do you always want to be alone?"

Aurora looked up and stumbled. Anne caught her by the arm and steadied her. Aurora stared at her.

Anne looked years older than when Aurora had last seen her. Well, it had been years since she had last seen her.

"What are you doing here?!"

"Keeping you from talking to yourself, of course," said Anne. "You don't want to make people think you're crazy, do you?"

Aurora let out a short, sharp laugh and walked on. "Too late." She looked at her former best friend again. Anne wore a fuchsia crop top, dark jeans and shiny running shoes. The designer labels were tastefully prominent. "How did you afford all that stuff?"

"Got a job. Clothing store. Employee discount. They're the only good clothes I have."

"Mother still scrimping?"

Anne shrugged. "Yeah, but she's going to get me to college. What about you?" She ran her eyes up and down Aurora. "You look like you haven't seen the inside of a Lululemon in years."

"I haven't. What's so bad about that? I'm working."

Anne chuckled.

"What's so funny?"

"It's just weird," Anne said. "We've swapped places, haven't we?"

Aurora scratched the back of her neck and smiled. "It's been an interesting few years."

"Really?" Anne flicked an eyebrow. "Not if you spent it the way you spent the last months I saw you. You went off into your own world there. Wasn't it lonely?"

"Of course it was! You think I wanted this? Not being able to look anybody in the eye?" Aurora waved her hands, shaking the argument off. "This is stupid! You don't know any of this stuff! You're a figment of my imagination!"

"Or a hallucination brought about by thirst," said Anne. "Then again, maybe not. You read dreams, Aurora. You read my dreams. Do you think any explanation is going to make sense? Maybe I'm dreaming. Maybe you're reaching into my dreams, pulling me out to talk to you. Ever think of that?"

"Why would I do that?"

"Maybe you have questions?"

Aurora gave her a sideways look. "Do people miss me back home?"

Anne tilted her head. "We wondered where you went. There were a lot of rumours. But after a few weeks with no news, we moved on." She shrugged. "What did you expect? It's been, like, years!"

Aurora looked at her feet and kicked up dust as she walked. "I know."

"I missed you." Anne reached out and clasped Aurora's hand.

"Even after all I said to you?" asked Aurora.

"I'm sorry," said Anne. "I was jealous. I couldn't help that. But just because I was jealous didn't mean I didn't want to be your friend."

Aurora smiled. "Thanks."

They plodded along, Anne standing tall, Aurora bent nearly double by the weight of the sun and the canvas bag.

"How long have you been walking?" Anne asked.

"You sound like Polk," Aurora muttered.

"It's a simple question."

"Not long enough!"

"You're going to kill yourself if you don't rest."

"I can't," said Aurora.

"You have to--"

"I can't!" Aurora shouted. "If I lie down, I'll just stare at the sky and drive myself crazy. Don't you understand? I don't sleep. I haven't slept since I got my first period. It just doesn't happen."

Anne chuckled and shook her head. "And to think I was jealous of you." Her smile shifted to a frown. "You have to try."

Aurora grimaced as pain shot up her calves. "I'm on the run. I can't waste time trying to sleep--"

She stumbled on the uneven ground. Anne grabbed her, and a second set of hands helped haul her up.

Aurora blinked to find herself staring into Albijana's older but still cheery grin.

"You need rest," said Albijana. "You've been walking two days straight. What, you think you're Superman or something?"

"Are you two ganging up on me?" Aurora looked from one to the other blearily. She struggled to focus on the landscape ahead.

"Come on," said Albijana. "We'll keep the nightmares at bay. It's the least I can do."

Roger flashed into existence in front of them. Aurora flinched. Albijana scowled, and Roger vanished in a haze of heat.

"I don't--" Aurora began.

"Try," Anne and Albijana chorused.

"You can take our dreams," said Anne. "Maybe that's not the only thing you can borrow."

They pushed her up the hill. As she walked, they faded into the air behind her. Aurora reached the top and looked around.

The landscape spread out around her. It seemed to go on forever. And above her there was only sky.

She dropped to her knees and fell backward onto the wild grasses. She looked up at the blue dome and felt as though she were flying.

It was as though she had shrunk to the size of an ant or a microbe. She felt as though the blades of grass towered over her. She felt as if everything was around her, and yet she felt as if, in the whole universe, there was only her.

Even if she were naked, she couldn't have been more vulnerable, or more free.

"So, this is what it's like to dream." Her eyelids fluttered. "I'd forgotten."

And, for the first time she could remember, she voluntarily fell asleep.

#

A grass stalk tickled Aurora's face and she woke. Waking up felt weird, like surfacing from deep water. She sat up and shielded her eyes against the sunset. She looked around. Everything looked the way she had left it, but it all felt different. She felt refreshed. Her legs didn't ache, but there was more. The world spoke to her in crisp colour. The ground was ochre, the sky above a rich blue.

She stood and stretched, then took deep breaths of the cooling evening air. If this was what it was like to wake up, she felt a little sad to have missed out all these years. But she was ready to take on the world.

"Thanks, Anne," she muttered. "Thanks, Albijana."

She drank a bottle of water, pacing herself so she didn't chug it, and ate a breakfast (or was it a dinner?) of cold beans. Then she picked up the bag. Keeping the sunset on her right, she walked on.

As she walked, she watched a thunderstorm drift north -- not like the one in her dream at Matron's diner, but a single isolated storm, rising in the late day heat and marching across the rolling fields to the west, trailing a shadow of rain and lancing the ground with lightning. In the rolls of thunder, she felt her heart flutter and lift. She waved at the storm as it passed. An airplane passed overhead, the sound of its engines rising above the wind, and she shaded her eyes to watch it. She walked until half the sky was dark and the sun glowed red on the horizon.

She froze at a sound like a baby rattle. I heard that before recently. Where? She looked around and spotted movement. She turned. The head of a rattlesnake rose above the tall grass.

Another rattle behind her. And another to her left. Aurora turned some more. Eight rattlesnakes surrounded her, arranged like the points of a compass. Each was over a metre long, their patterned backs the colour of stone.

What the heck?

Aurora ducked back as a snake approached and tried to dodge between two of them, only to have the snakes slither into her path. Their eyes followed her as she backed up to the centre of the circle. This isn't natural. Were there ever any rattlesnakes around here? Isn't this too far north?

It's another trap.

She scanned the horizon, and spotted a figure coming towards her out of the northwest, a silhouette against the sunset. She glared, recognizing him before he called out to her.

"Hello, there!" Salvadore stopped outside the circle of snakes and stood with his hands clasped behind his back. "You look like you could use a little help! How fortunate that I just happened along--"

"Oh, just cut the crap!"

Salvadore gave her a disappointed look. Then he drew himself up. "Come with me."

She folded her arms. "No!"

He took a deep breath and stepped forward. "Come with me... please?"

Aurora cocked her head. "You know, you might have considered asking me nicely, first, before you drugged me!"

He raised his eyebrows. "Would you really have come with me if I'd asked politely first?"

"I'd have wanted to know why."

"Ah. Well, then. I'm sorry. I wouldn't have had the time to explain. I don't do well with questions that have complicated answers. Now, are you coming or not?" He gestured, and the snakes slithered towards her.

Aurora backed up. "How did you find me?" she snapped, desperate.

He grinned. "It wasn't hard when I found your trail, though you do move fast for such a little one. Don't you sleep?"

Aurora let out a laugh of disbelief. "You found me in mile after mile of Saskatchewan wilderness and then came right here, right away? I don't believe it! Where'd you even park?"

He shrugged. "I admit, I had a lucky break. We can travel fast if we need to. At the speed of dreams, you might say."

Aurora backed away from an advancing snake, but at Salvadore's words, she jerked up. "What did you say?"

"Surely, you've guessed this already! People like me - like us - play in the collective unconscious of the human mind - the dreamworld, you might say. All I needed was the subconscious thoughts of someone who had you in their line of sight to realize where you were and, with a bit of an effort, materialize."

"But I haven't seen anybody since--" Her mouth dropped open. "The airplane?"

"And there I was!" He winced and rubbed his back. "Bit of a hard landing. That's one reason we don't do that too often." He clasped his hands together. "Now, I know you're playing for time, so here's the deal: come with me and get a full explanation of what's going on. Don't and-- oh, where did it go?" He patted his pockets and pulled out a vial and a syringe. "I inject you with this life-saving antivenom after these snakes--"

There was a flash of movement. Aurora yelled as a snake struck at her. She ducked away, tumbled, and suddenly the snakes were upon her, rattling. She flung up her hands. She heard the shift of air as the snakes struck -- then a click as they hit... something. Then silence.

She opened her eyes, then looked up, heart pounding. The snakes surrounded her, staring down, jaws open, venom dripping, all leaning at an angle that suggested they were leaning on glass. They looked almost sheepish.

Aurora blinked. Did I do that? How did I do that?

She moved her hands, gestured and thought, get away from me.

The snakes closed their mouths and slithered away, disappearing into the undergrowth. Aurora sat up.

Salvador cleared his throat. "That was... interesting. You're not as helpless as you look."

Nobody could be as helpless as I look, thought Aurora. But as the last of the rattlesnakes vanished, she felt a surge of hope.

"Okay, then." Salvadore pocketed the vial and syringe. "New plan. You still want that explanation, right?"

Aurora shoved herself to her feet. She glared at Salvadore. "Who sent you?"

He nodded brightly. "Come with me and I'll tell you."

"No. Tell me here, now!"

"I told you the answer's complicated. Do you really want to know, right now?"

"Of course I do!"

"Your father."

"What? No!"

Salvadore sighed. "See? I knew you wouldn't believe me. This is why I don't have these conversations just standing around outside."

"I never knew my father!" Aurora yelled "He was never around when I grew up. Never! Mom didn't talk about him. There aren't any pictures of him--"

He shook his head, smiling sadly. "Just because you've never seen your father doesn't mean he isn't looking for you. Why do you think your mother ran?"

Aurora gaped at him.

He smiled and reached out. "Come with me, and I will explain everything. Isn't it time you learned the truth?"

Aurora stared, then took a tentative step forward. Suddenly, Matron's voice echoed in her head: You can't let him take you, girl! It'll be disaster if he does! She saw the funnel cloud of crows descending; heard the rifle going off.

She stepped back. "No."

Salvadore's glare darkened the sky, but Aurora stood firm. "No. I'm done. I'm sick of being hunted. I'm sick of being played with. I'm going to walk away and nothing, and no one, is going to stop me."

Salvadore smirked. "You'll be leaving your boyfriend in the lurch."

Aurora's nostrils flared. "He's not my boyfriend!"

"Maybe not, but he certainly sees himself as your knight in shining armour," said Salvadore. "Fought valiantly, I must say. It'll hurt to realize you've abandoned him. Though I don't think the hurt will last much longer." He checked his watch. "Nope. Not much longer at all."

The colour drained from Aurora's cheeks. "What--"

Salvadore ran at her, yelling. Without thinking, Aurora ducked aside, tripped him, and punched him on the back of his neck as he went down. She turned to run, then fell as he grabbed her ankle. She kicked, but he wouldn't let go. Her mind roiled as adrenalin kicked in.

I'm fighting for my life against a man who can control snakes! In a world where I'm attacked by my dreams.

Wait! I controlled the snakes, too, or blocked them. What if--

She imagined snakes. She remembered them. She remembered a spring morning when she and Mom went north of Winnipeg to Narcisse where dens of garter snakes came out from hibernation. There were thousands of them. Tens of thousands. She shuddered at the memory. The ground had seethed.

And as she remembered this, the ground dropped beneath Salvadore.

He yelled as snakes slithered around him. He yelled louder when the slithered over him. Aurora struggled to scramble back, but his grip tightened on her ankle as he sank like in quicksand. "No!" he shouted, fear and shock in his voice. "No! Don't leave me!"

Aurora aimed her other foot and smashed it into his nose.

He let go. The garter snakes covered him, and he vanished underground. A hand reached desperately for the sky before sinking. The snakes sank too, until only grass and dirt remained.

Aurora sat up, gasping, staring at the sunken ground where Salvadore had been. She took a deep breath: "Holy sh--"

Her words caught in her throat. What did he say about Polk?

Aurora scrambled to her feet. "Polk!" she shouted. "Polk!"

She ran back the way she'd come.

#

Aurora stumbled in the dying evening light. "Polk!" she shouted. "Polk!"

She kept running until she'd left Salvadore far behind, but she couldn't outrun the fear that gripped her chest. How was she going to find Polk in all of this emptiness?

She staggered to a stop. "Polk!"

Only the wind answered.

She beat her fists against her sides. This isn't fair? If Polk dies because of me, I'll never forgive myself! She ran her hand through her hair. I can read people's dreams. That has to be good for something. There has to be some way to find Polk. Has to be!

She lowered her hands. Maybe there is a way. It's a longshot, but what choice do I have?

She closed her eyes and took slow, deep breaths. Cleansing breath in, stressed air out. Cleansing breath in. She held it. Thank you, Dr. Zane. Another breath. Where are you, Polk?

She turned slowly and stopped when she felt a tug on her mind, a tug like north pulling the point of a compass. She took a step forward, then another. And another. The pull came stronger.

Aurora opened her eyes. She was facing roughly the way she'd come last night. There was nothing in front of her but more rolling hills, but she set off at a run. She ran until the twilight disappeared. She stumbled in the dark, drawn by that magnetic pull, until the moon rose in the southeast. She brushed past grasses and leafy saskatoon shrubs. Bullberry thorns snagged her jeans, but she pushed on. Finally, when she was almost out of breath, she reached a clearing and the pull stopped. Aurora stopped. She staggered a little as she looked around.

"Polk?" she croaked.

She tripped on something at the edge of the clearing and fell full length. She sat up and looked, and her hand went to her mouth.

Polk lay tangled in the saskatoons. Their stalks and leaves wrapped around him, holding him half-upright, binding his legs and arms and twisting him into a painful, unnatural shape. More stalks had clamped over his mouth, while others had wrapped across his neck.

His eyes were closed. He wasn't breathing. As Aurora watched, the stalks tightened around his neck.

She scrambled forward. "No! Let him go! Let him go!" She grabbed and tore at the stalks. They held like rope and twisted in her fingers. Yelling, she clawed at the plant. Bits came free. Stalks snapped. Another branch swung at her, but she batted it away. She tore away the leaves and attacked the stalks with her hands, her nails, her feet and her teeth until the last stalk came free, and she pulled Polk's limp body into the clearing. The plants stretched out to grab her, but drew back when they couldn't reach her.

Aurora crouched on her hands and knees, breathing heavily. "Polk? Polk!" She slapped his cheeks, listened for a breath, checked his pulse. She found it, weak and slow, and sobbed with relief. He was still alive. But he wouldn't be for long if he didn't start breathing.

She tilted his head back, opened his mouth and pinched his nose. Placing her mouth over his, she breathed into him. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his chest rise. She pulled back, then breathed into him again. And again.

On her fifth try, Polk coughed. His eyes fluttered open. His voice was barely a whisper. "Are you doing the Prince Charming role, now?"

She laughed. Her eyes glistened and she cleared her nose with a sniff. "You're okay!"

He beamed at her. Then his eyes widened, and he rolled away suddenly, and lay, retching, his hands to his throat. He wheezed. Aurora kept her hand on his back. Polk collapsed on his stomach and breathed deep. Coughs spasmed through him again. In between gasps, he said, "I searched for you. Salvadore found me."

"I know. He found me too."

He looked up at her. "How -- did you -- get away?"

"He wanted to take me alive. That made it easier."

"Oh." Polk took several more gasping breaths. "Where is he?"

She nodded over her shoulder. "Back there somewhere. But we should get going." She got her hands under his arm and helped him stand.

He straightened up and looked at her. "Why did you run away?"

"Not now." Supporting his weight on her shoulder, she pulled him forward. "Where are the railway tracks?"

"This way," he wheezed. They shuffled forward to the edge of the clearing. Aurora flashed the plants a searing look, and they parted to let them pass.

Together, Aurora and Polk staggered into the night.

#

The next hours blurred as they stumbled across the moonlit prairie, scratching themselves on grasses and thorns. Polk was soon able to walk without Aurora's help, but she kept hold of his hand. He occasionally coughed or touched his throat. Aurora kept pace, but her mind tossed and turned.

"Who sent you?"

"You really want to know?"

"Yes!"

"Your father."

"What? No!"

"Just because you've never seen your father doesn't mean he's dead. Or that he isn't looking for you. Why do you think your mother ran?"

How could this monster who could call up crows, attack her in dreams, and hire snake-masters, be her father? It was incredible.

Her eyes focused on Polk, a wilting shadow in the moonlight. His dream showed me he'd known this crow-man who was after me. Awake, though, he's clearly not on that crow-man's side. Why is he protecting me?

They reached the tracks with the moon overhead. They walked on south, rocks clacking beneath their feet as they stepped from tie to tie. Aurora hefted the bag over her shoulders and kept a close eye on Polk, who walked in a daze.

He's exhausted, she thought. Well, why wouldn't he be? I slept through most of the day and haven't had plants strangle me.

But it wasn't safe to stand still anymore. The tussle with Salvadore showed that the ones who were after her were no longer watching just the road. And given how Salvadore had found her, pointing to the airplane, that told her that once she got to Saskatoon, she'd be even easier to find.

So, we have to keep moving. And there's no way Polk is going to be able to do that for much longer. And in this barren place, there were so few places to hide.

So, what the hell do I do? Pray?

I suppose it couldn't hurt.

Lord, get us out of this mess. Please.

Polk looked up. "What's that?"

Aurora looked. A pickup truck was parked on the rails of a track siding. Aurora frowned, then saw that the truck had been modified to run on those rails. The rubber wheels pushed it forward, but metal wheels in front and behind kept the truck on track. The logo of the railway was plastered on the truck doors, as they saw when they came up beside it.

Oh my. Aurora glanced up at the sky.

Polk tried the door handle on the truck's passenger side. It opened easily. The interior light went on.

"We're not going to steal somebody's ride," said Aurora.

"There's nobody around. Maybe they left it here and took a train home?"

Aurora scanned the horizon. There were no lights, no houses, no camp. "Are the keys in the ignition?"

Polk leaned into the cab. "Nope."

Aurora nodded. It couldn't have been that easy.

"I could hotwire it, though."

"What?" Aurora pulled him from the cab. "Where did you learn how to do that?"

He looked at her seriously. "From Joe and his gang. We were bored. We didn't have anything else to do."

"So, you stole cars?!"

"I didn't!" snapped Polk. "I don't know about Joe. But... I think it was only his dad's car, and he put it back because there was nowhere else to go."

Aurora heaved a huge sigh. "God, I miss the big city."

Polk reached behind the steering wheel. (A steering wheel? thought Aurora. On a railroad?) He began pulling out wires. Two minutes later, the engine roared to life, and Aurora decided she would buy an anti-theft device for her first car.

But as Polk shifted over into the driver's side, Aurora reached through the window and tugged his sleeve. She pointed at the passenger seat. "You sit there. I'm driving."

"I can handle this--"

"Just get some rest, okay?" She tugged harder.

He sagged like a handful of wet noodles. Then he straightened up. "You promise not to run off?"

She smiled at him and crossed her heart.

He settled into the passenger seat and leaned back. Aurora came around the truck and slid into the driver's seat. The dashboard was similar to Matron's station wagon, with a set of railway-related computer equipment Aurora thought she could safely ignore. She pulled the truck into gear and pressed the accelerator. She reached for the steering wheel, then pulled back as the rails did the steering for her. There was a clatter underfoot as the siding merged with the mainline. The metal wheels sang as the truck picked up speed.

Polk began to snore. Images of his wheat field dream invaded her vision, but she pushed them away and concentrated on the drive.

"It'll be okay," she muttered. The headlights lit up a signpost beside the rails. It said 'SASKATOON: 200KM' "It'll be okay. Matron told us to go to the city. She must have known what she was doing. Maybe the person she is sending us to can help us."

The rails sang beneath her and the ties rushing at her blurred.

It won't be long, now.

(Fiction Special) The Dream King's Daughter Chapter Five: As the Crow Flies

This photo of Stauffer Lake, Saskatchewan, was taken by Theodore Garver and is used in accordance with his Creative Commons License.

In the previous chapter, Aurora and Polk fight off Salvadore and his weird influences in the abandoned general store, and hide from the dark figure as he arrives in his big rig made of crows. As the dark figure drags Salvadore away and heads south on the road, Aurora and Polk have no choice but to strike out into the open countryside. Read on to find out what awaits them there.

<Back to Chapter Four

The Dream King's Daughter - Chapter Five: As the Crow Flies

Aurora slammed into dreams every time she looked a classmate in the eye.�� By the end of the first week, she was sick with it.�� At recess, she sat in a window well at the base of the school, rolling a tennis ball between her feet. Laughter echoed around her. Roger and his muscle stumbled into view, cackling as they wrestled, staggering close to Aurora. She looked away.

Roger righted himself and shoved his friends away. They darted off, laughing. Roger leered at her. Aurora kept her gaze on the ground. When he ran off, Aurora glared at his back. Then she went back to kicking the tennis ball between her feet.

"Hey!" The sound of Albijana's aggrieved voice made Aurora look up.

At the school gate, Albijana stood trembling with frustration as Roger turned her red rubber ball over in his hands.

"Cool ball," he said, twisting out of her reach. "I bet if you bounce it really hard, it could go really high."

"Give it back!" Albijana wailed.

"Just let me test it." Roger pretended to bounce the ball on the ground, then hauled back and tossed it with all his might. It sailed high into the air, clearing the third-story windows of the school before disappearing above the roofline.

Roger grinned at Albijana. "Yup. It goes really high."

His friends laughed. Albijana stood rigid, fists clenched. Then she said something in Arabic. One of her friends heard it and gasped.

Roger sneered at her. "Out of my way, you little monkey."

People stopped and stared, but Roger pushed past Albijana and walked away. The girl turned and walked to the school wall, her shoulders slumped and her head down. She walked right up to Aurora without looking up, and would have bumped into her if Aurora hadn't cleared her throat.

Albijana jumped back. "I'm sorry!"

Aurora gave her a small smile. "It's okay." She shifted over to one side of the window well, making room. Albijana hesitated, then sat down on the concrete sill.

"Talk to a caretaker," said Aurora. "He can go to the roof and get it."

Albijana sniffed. "Okay."

They waited in silence for the school bell to ring.

Aurora looked at Albijana's light brown skin and long, dark hair. "Did they bomb your country?"

Albijana looked at her sharply.

Aurora swallowed. "I just... I read--"

"Yes," said Albijana, her eyes dark. Aurora shook the sound of air raid sirens out of her head.

"Why?" Albijana asked.

"I just-- I mean, I wanted to know-- You seemed-- It's--"

Albijana turned away. "Yes," she said again. "I hate it. I hate them."

"But you're safe here," said Aurora quietly.

Albijana shook her head. She picked up a pebble and turned it around in her fingers. "They're in my dreams. The bombs. The soldiers. Everybody running away. They won't stop."

Silence stretched.

"You know," said Aurora carefully. "It is... just... a dream."

"It's not a dream!" Albijana threw the stone to the ground. "It's not! It happened! It..." Her voice trailed off and she bit her lip.

"I know it happened," said Aurora quickly. "But when you go back in your dreams, it's still a dream. It's not real in your dreams."

"It feels real." Albijana tossed the pebble aside. "They say... if you die in your dreams, you die in real life."

"But... you don't have to do what the dreams tell you to do."

Albijana frowned at her, but she didn't turn away.

"Look," said Aurora, "My mother knows dreams. She says they're all the same; they take place in your head. It's all a part of your imagination. Well, we use our imagination all the time, right? We play rocket ships on the monkey bars. We play Fortress on the playground equipment. If we can make things into other things in our imagination, so, why not in our dreams?"

Albijana's brow furrowed.

"Try it," said Aurora. "Tell your dreams that you won't dream this anymore. Tell your dreams that you're taking over and doing what you want."

The school bell rang. Albijana stood up, still frowning. She walked to the doors without looking back.

#

Aurora and Polk decided to explore the abandoned store, first.

The screen door came off its hinges when Polk pulled on it. Inside, they covered their mouths and noses at the overpowering smell of mildew. Sunlight fell in shafts from gaps in the boards hammered over the windows. The floor was white, except for the dark footprints Aurora and Salvadore had left behind in the dust.

Aurora picked up a package of licorice off its display rack, sniffed it, then smacked it against the cash counter. The licorice shattered into a million pieces.

"There's nothing here." She tossed the rest of the package aside.

"There's got to be something." Polk blew a cloud of dust off a can of beans and turned it in his hands before holding it out to her. "See? This doesn't expire for another month."

"Oh, goody."

Aurora wandered around the store, raising clouds of dust. The cash register was open, its display showing a tab marked "No Sale". The drawer was empty. Then her foot hit something beneath the cash register. It was a cardboard pallet half full of water bottles.

She knelt down. "Polk! Over here!"

Polk rushed over and did a little shuffle of triumph. "Great! That's exactly what I was hoping for." He picked up a bottle, peered at it, and shook it. "Looks okay." He tossed her one.

She caught it, unscrewed the cap and took a swig, which became a chug. She gulped down the water and tossed the empty bottle aside, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "It's good," she said.

"Worth looking around after all?"

"Yeah, yeah."

Polk's grin faded. "How on earth are we going to carry all this?"

They found a dusty canvas bag tucked in the drawer under the broken cash register. They packed all the water they could into it. This filled the bag halfway and they were still able to carry it. Then they argued over the beans.

"They're useless, heavy, and frankly disgusting," said Aurora, her hands on her hips, wrinkling her nose as Polk waved a can in front of her.

"We're going to have to eat too, you know."

"I'll wait."

"You'll starve."

"I'm not going to starve!"

Polk heaved a long-suffering sigh.

She snatched the canvas bag. "Okay, you want beans? Have some beans!" She shoved an entire shelf full of cans into the canvas bag and handed it to him. Polk took the bag and dropped it on his foot.

Aurora stood with arms folded as Polk hopped about.

He rubbed his toe. "Thanks a million!" He dug into the bag and plunked half the cans back on the shelf. He hefted the bag in front of her. "Compromise?"

She weighed it in her hand. "You promise to carry this whenever I get tired?"

"Sure."

"Deal."

They picked up a can opener and plastic spoons from the housewares aisle and headed for the front door. At the front stood a rack of baseball caps. Polk picked one up and blew off a cloud of dust that made Aurora choke. He picked up another, beat the dust off against his pant leg, and handed it to her.

Aurora sneered at it. It was a denim cap with the Playboy logo on it. "I'm not wearing that!"

"In this weather, it's that or sunstroke."

Aurora grabbed the cap and tossed it away. She flipped through the rack and found a white cap with a Baltimore Ravens football logo on it. She beat the dust off and pulled it on.

Polk pulled on his hat. It was black and had the initials N.Y.P.D. stitched across it. "Ready?"

Aurora looked out the door at the wide, rolling landscape, and was struck again with the sense of being one of the last two humans in existence. The air in the store was heating up as fast as an oven. Outside, heat waves quivered above the ground.

Out in that with only beans and water? What the hell am I doing?

And what the hell am I doing getting Polk involved?

Polk turned to step outside, but she grabbed the doorframe, blocking him. He frowned at her. "What?"

"Where do you think you're going?"

He looked from her to the road and back again. "Saskatoon, like you said." He drew back from her, and his frown deepened. "With you."

Aurora stepped into the sunlight and gripped both sides of the door frame. "You don't have to." She pushed out her words. "If Matron's right, and it's me they're after, then you could just walk away, and be safe. So, why don't you be safe? As long as you're next to me, they're after you as well."

He shook his head. "No way. You're going to hike in a Saskatchewan heat wave? Miles from anywhere? That's insane! You might as well walk the Sahara."

"It's not that bad!"

"Is too!"

"Polk, don't go all Prince Charming on me. You don't have the looks, and you don't have the sword. This is between me and whoever is following me."

He reddened. "'Prince Charming'? Is that why you think I'm doing this? You want me to walk away while you face it all alone? You're insane! How can you think I'd do that, to anyone?"

"You could go see if Matron's all right," she said quietly.

They both winced. It was cruel to say that, but it needed saying. With the dark man focused on her, Matron could be okay for all they knew. But they didn't know. And Polk would want to know at least as much as she did.

He stood a long minute, his eyes closed. Then he looked up and looked her in the eye.

Polk walks through the wheat, his heart beating faster.

Aurora blinked the dream away and focused on Polk's forehead.

He took a deep breath. "I'm. Coming. With. You." He gave a final nod.

Aurora couldn't help smiling. "Okay. Thanks." She let go of the door frame. "Let's go."

"I'd bake in Prince Charming's armour, anyway," he muttered. He pulled the cloth straps of the canvas sack over each shoulder and wore the bag like a backpack.

They sauntered down the steps, walked back to the crest of the hill and stood looking down the road. The wind was still. The sun beat down from halfway up the eastern horizon. The sky had opened into a crystal-clear cornflower blue.

Polk shaded his eyes. They strained to peer at the road's vanishing point. Then Aurora saw it: a black speck in the sky, circling above the road. She strained her ears and heard the faint cry of crows.

"They're guarding the road."

"That could be anything," said Polk. But he took a step back.

"They're guarding the road. It's what I'd do."

"So ... what?"

Aurora watched the distant crows.�� "Let's follow the creek."

#

They followed the muddy bank. The sun rose higher and the shadows disappeared. Their pace slowed. Aurora pulled off her cap and wiped the sweat from her forehead.

In the silence, her mind tumbled. Why me, she thought. What do they want with me?

"You okay?" Polk's voice derailed her train of thought.

"What?"

"You're not watching where you're going." He was holding her by the elbow, guiding her away from the stream.

She sighed. "Why are they chasing me, Polk?"

"Um... Maybe you shouldn't think about that too hard. Maybe focus on walking through this heat instead?"

"But, it makes no sense." Aurora looked back. "Maybe I should go back and ask them."

"Yeah. Maybe they can help you pick out a good fabric for your sacrificial robe."

"Maybe if it's something I could give them, they'd stop--"

Matron's words echoed in her head. You can't let him take you, girl! It'll be disaster if he does! Whatever it was they wanted, it was no small thing.

"But why me?" She grimaced at the whine she heard in her voice. "I mean, trying to grab me in my dreams? Attacking us with crows and plastic bags?"

Polk nodded. "It seems a lot just to grab some young waitress, especially when there are plenty of prettier ones out there-- ow!"

He staggered back from her punch to his shoulder and planted his foot in the stream. He shook it out. "Great. Thanks."

"You're welcome."

He walked on with a step, shake-water-off, step, shake-water-off, step. Aurora stifled a laugh.

Polk's right, though, she thought. A fifteen -- almost sixteen -- year old waitress in some remote corner of Saskatchewan? It was ludicrous. What's so special about me--

She stopped in her tracks. Oh, yeah. The dream thing.

Polk stopped and turned back. "Aurora?"

The dream thing. That had to be it. It was the only thing that marks me off as special. But how could they know? I hadn't told anyone about my abilities, not outright. And the one person who'd experienced them -- she flinched at the memory -- was hardly in any condition to tell anyone.

But Mom knew.

"Get stuck in the mud?" Polk grinned. "Hey, are you okay?"

She drew her breath in. Her hands clenched into fists. "Damn it!" she yelled. Starlings burst out of the flowers and into the sky.

Polk whirled, looking for attackers rushing towards them. "I thought we were supposed to be in hiding!"

Aurora stomped her feet. "She knew! My mom knew! She shoved me here; she played with my memory to keep me 'safe.' She knew I was special enough that somebody wanted me, and she damn well never told me!"

Polk let the canvas bag slip from his shoulders. "Aurora, calm down."

She balled her hands into fists. She clenched her jaw shut and took a cleansing breath.

Then her mind caught up to her mouth. She looked up at Polk, horrified. She'd been reckless.

"Aurora? What's wrong?" His sardonic smile was gone.

But this was Polk. Her best friend in Cooper's Corners. The only person who'd made the place bearable. And he'd walked with her this far.

"I know why they're after me, Polk," she said. "I've never told anybody this before, but I can see people's dreams."

There was a long moment of silence. Polk stared at her. Aurora stared back, waiting. She tried again. "I mean, I can see what people are dreaming when I look them in the eye."

His eyes flickered aside, but he still said nothing.

"Have you gotten through your wheatfield yet?"

"Oh, crap!" He lunged away from her, covering his eyes. "Does privacy mean nothing to you?"

"I can't help it!" she yelled. "I can't control it. It just happens."

He lowered his hand and looked at her warily. "Oh." Then, more seriously, "Oh! That can not be fun."

She threw up her hands. "Tell me about it. For the past three years, I've wanted to punch Jake Ransom's face in. That's what I like about your dreams, Polk: I don't feel the need to take a shower after."

He straightened up, but still kept his gaze just out of eye contact. "Oh... Okay. I'll take that as a compliment. I think. How long have you... been able to do this?"

"Since my first period."

He ducked his head. "Too much information!"

"Hey, you asked!"

He shook his head, looking stunned. "So, you can see people's dreams. That's... neat, I guess." He caught her look. "Or, maybe not. How do you know that's why they're after you?"

"They're attacking me in dreams, and I can read dreams, that isn't enough of a connection?" She continued more quietly. "My mom knew something. She knew that people were after me, and she sent me here, to live with Aunt Matron."

"I always thought you were an orphan."

"I might as well be. She played with my memories to keep me here. Tried to make me forget my life in Winnipeg." She clenched her fists. "Polk, this is important. Tell me how you know me. How long have you known me?"

"Uh..." Polk opened his mouth, then closed it. "Three years. Aurora, this is too weird for me. Do we really have to talk about this out here--?"

"Three years?" Aurora echoed. "Not twelve or fifteen? I look at you and I say to myself, this is a boy I grew up with; from the moment we got up and toddled around. This is a boy I went to kindergarten with. But only the last three years have been real."

She realized, with a sudden jerk of her heart, that she felt robbed to be losing those memories of Polk.

"You came... to live with us... three years ago," said Polk at last, thinking hard and choosing his words with care. "Matron told me you were an orphan and that we were taking you in. She told me not to talk about your mother... because it was too painful for you."

"Or it could have brought the memories back." She looked up at him, marvelling that, for three years, this secret hadn't slipped out. Polk hadn't once said something like, 'Hey, you remember when you came to Cooper's Corners, three years ago?'

"Maybe they played with your memories too," she said.

"You'd think I'd remember that."

She shook her head. His grin faded.

"That's got to be it," she said. "It's the only thing that makes me special. They want me because I can see into people's dreams."

"Why?"

"I don't know. Matron did everything she could to make sure I didn't find out. Maybe this person in Saskatoon can tell me." She set her teeth. "I can't believe my Mom wouldn't tell me!"

"Okay," said Polk. "My next big question: what exactly can we do with this information out here where we are?"

Aurora looked around, at the meandering strip of mud that passed for a creek, at the sea of brush and flowers that stretched to the horizon, at the blue dome of the sky. Her shoulders sagged. "Nothing. Let's keep going." She pushed past Polk.

He shrugged on the canvas bag and fell into step beside her, but she hardly noticed him.

Mom knew about me. The words rolled around in her head. She knew.

#

The sun rose too high for the creek's shallow banks to provide any shade. They trudged on. Aurora noticed they were approaching a low ridge running along the northeastern horizon. As they rounded a bend in the stream, they saw that the ridge crossed the creek, with a bridge that looked like a platform on stilts.

Aurora squinted at it. "That's too small to be a road bridge."

"Maybe it's a cattle crossing or something," said Polk.

There were no farmhouses in sight. The only structures were the bridge, the ridge (which didn't look natural), and a line of power poles stretching into the distance.

Polk staggered.

Aurora frowned at him. "You wait here. I'll take a look around."

Leaving Polk puffing beside the creek, Aurora clawed her way up the embankment and poked her head above the bridge, feeling like a prairie dog peering out from its den. Her vision was blocked by a low wall of iron. She craned her head higher and saw that the low wall was actually a rail. Two ribbons of rusted steel curved away in either direction, drawing together as they reached the vanishing point.

"Huh," she said and ducked down.

"It's a rail line," she called to Polk. "And it's heading south."

Polk looked up from where he sat slumped on the bank. "So?"

She looked up and down the run of the creek. "The creek was heading east," she said, "and now it's heading north-east. Saskatoon's south, so we're moving away from where we want to go." Then she focused on Polk. "Are you okay?"

He looked up at her, breathing heavily. "Me? I'm fine! Fine. So, east or south?"

Sweat cut lines in the dust on his face. His white t-shirt was grey and soggy. Aurora's frown deepened as she came down the embankment. "You want me to carry the bag?"

"What?" He straightened up sharply. "No, I can handle it. Come on! Let's keep moving."

"I'd like some water, please."

Polk sagged with relief and slipped the cloth straps off his shoulders. He rummaged through the sack and brought out two bottles. He handed her one and twisted the cap off the other.

"Hey." She caught him with the bottle halfway to his mouth. "Drink slowly. Don't choke yourself."

They both drank. Then stood looking at each other, casting tempted glances at the sack full of water, but decided to save it for later. Polk hefted the straps over his shoulders.

"You want me to carry that?" asked Aurora. "It's been a couple of hours."

"I'm fine. I'm here to help, you know." He grinned at her. "I swore to protect you."

Aurora rolled her eyes.

"I did! Placed my hand on the Good Book and everything! Anybody who comes after you has to get through me first. I also carry your bags."

"C'mon Polk, it's been hours. I should take a turn too."

"I said, I'm okay!" He slipped and fell forward. One of the cans rolled out of the bag and thwacked him in the back of his head. "Ow!"

Aurora scrambled over and caught the bag before more of its contents could spill onto Polk. He looked up at her, dazed. "Okay," he said. "You can carry it a bit."

They followed the tracks south. The rails were rusted, but the gravel was well-groomed. Walking from tie to tie, they picked up the pace. Aurora puffed with the canvas sack on her back. How had Polk managed to carry this the entire morning? Sometimes, it felt as though she could point her toes, and it would drive her into the ground like a nail.

She let her hands drop to her sides. Her left hand brushed against Polk's. Their hands jerked apart as though they'd felt a shock. On they plodded. The ribbons of iron shimmered, making Aurora think of water. Again, her hand brushed Polk's. This time they didn't pull away. After a moment, she took his hand. Polk gave it a squeeze. They brought their heads down and pushed forward.

The afternoon disappeared into a haze of heat.

As the sun set, and they ambled around a curve on the rail embankment, the land ahead dropped away. They looked out on rolling scrublands full of grass and flowers. Aurora groaned at the sight of mile after mile of unpaved ground. Damn nature!

But as she took a few more steps, and more of the landscape pulled into view, her breath caught.

At first sh,e thought it was another mirage. But as she walked, she could see this was no mirage. The sun glittered on a sparkling mirror, a slough of water that stretched out in a circle a hundred metres wide, reflecting so brightly that they had to shield their eyes.

Aurora stopped. Polk stopped too. They stood there, breathing hard, transfixed by the glittering water, but too tired to move or speak.

"Ooo, that's sooo tempting," Aurora moaned at last.

"Yeah," said Polk.

She looked up at him. "Want a swim?"

He thought about it. "Aren't we supposed to be on the run?"

They looked at the slough and then at each other. Sweat beaded on their faces and trickled down their necks. Aurora's t-shirt was stained and sticking to her. And it had been eight hours since they'd seen anything resembling a crow.

She shrugged off the canvas bag and dropped it beside the rails. Polk broke into a grin. "Last one in is a rotten egg!"

Aurora tripped him, sending him sprawling on the embankment. She dashed for the pond, kicking off her shoes, jumping out of her jeans, and stripping down to her underwear. She danced out of her socks just in time to splash into the water. Polk stomped after her but stopped when he saw her jeans fly past him and land in the grass.

Aurora surfaced, gasping, delighting at the prickle of goosebumps. She looked around and saw Polk on the bank, staring at her with his mouth open.

"What?" she called. "Aren't you coming in?"

"You--" He gestured at her shirt and jeans lying on the bank.

"Don't be silly! I'm wearing underwear." But to her horror, she felt herself beginning to blush.

"But..." He waved his hands.

"Well, I'm sorry!" She walked backwards deeper into the water until she was a head bobbing on top of its own reflection. "In our mad dash to escape, I somehow forgot to pack our swimsuits. Look, it's not like my underwear shows anything more. At least this way, you don't have to look the other way while I change into a bikini. Now, are you coming in, or what?"

Polk hesitated. Then he whooped and pulled off his pants, shoes and shirt. Aurora laughed. Polk dove into the water with a huge splash.

They swam lengths. Aurora took a few minutes to wash the mud, sweat and abandoned bathroom smell from her jeans and t-shirt, spreading them out to dry on the flowers. They spent the next half hour splashing each other, playing tag, before finally collapsing by the water's edge, gazing up at the sky as the water lapped around them.

"We needed that," said Aurora at last.

"Yeah. We did." Polk sat up, sloshing water over her. "Let's eat."

She struggled to sit up. "Give me a hand here."

He clasped her hand. "Sure. Come on." He hauled her to her feet.

They slipped on the muddy bottom. Aurora teetered, her free arm cartwheeling. Polk staggered but caught her, one hand clasped around her side. Aurora's breath caught. She'd never realized just how strong he was. They stood a moment, staring at each other, their faces dangerously close.

She saw Polk's gaze run quickly up and down her body, then plant itself at a safe spot somewhere by her right ear. His cheeks glowed red. To her disgust, she was blushing furiously too.

Polk coughed. "Um..."

"Don't let go yet!" she snapped. She was still balanced precariously on one foot, and Polk was taking her weight. She staggered fully upright. Then she cleared her throat, and nodded curtly. "You can let go now. Thanks."

"You're welcome."

They turned their backs on each other and ran for their clothes.

Aurora felt more comfortable once she'd pulled on her jeans and shirt. They were stained and still a bit damp, but smelled okay. They worked together to sort out the canvas sack and hand each other water bottles. Sitting on the embankment below the tracks, they had a dinner of cold beans. The sun set. The sky darkened, and the stars came out.

"So, I guess we're stopping here for the night?" Aurora rubbed the knots out of her legs.

"You want to wander around in the dark? Besides, we need our sleep."

"Yeah." Aurora lay back and looked up at the sky again, and was startled at the number of stars she saw. The sky hardly had room enough for them all. "Wow," she breathed. "There really is a Milky Way."

She had spent almost three years in Cooper's Corners, but with a lifetime of experience, she had already seen all the stars and grown tired of them. Now she looked up at them with the eyes of a city girl who hadn't realized that the sky had depth. The universe was a lot bigger than she'd ever thought it could be.

"What are we going to do, Polk?" she said at last.

He rolled over in the dark and clasped her hand. "Don't worry--"

"I'm not talking about this chase. I'm talking about after."

"Can't we just go back... to Matron?"

"No," said Aurora. "Not after keeping me here with my fake memories."

"Find your mother, maybe?"

"If I can." But she shook her head. "Mom abandoned me. I lived the rest of my life in a lie. Like it or not, I'm on my own." She rolled away from him and rested her head on her arm. "There's no going back. The only way forward is forward."

They lay in silence as the twilight deepened. Finally, Aurora rolled back over and looked at Polk. "Do you have any dreams?"

"Only when I'm dreaming."

"You're always dreaming," said Aurora.

He frowned at her.

"Seriously. Everybody dreams in the daytime, and not just in daydreams. You only notice your dreams when you're asleep and your mind has nothing else to do. But the part of the mind that does the dreaming doesn't shut down. Everybody dreams, all the time."

Polk stared at her, eyebrows raised.

"Trust me," she said. "I know."

He gave her a lopsided grin. "If you say so."

He lingered on the grin, and she couldn't help blushing. The grassy embankment was bigger than all the beds in the world, but the thought of sharing it with him still gave her a strange thrill.

In her mind's eye, she slapped herself.

The moon rose. After a while, Aurora heard Polk snoring. She waited a moment longer, then scooched over on her back until her elbow touched his arm. She settled back with a contented sigh.

The wind brushes the wheat, rippling the tassels like surf .

Aurora blinked up at the sky. What had just happened?

She'd seen a dream. She'd seen Polk's dream, but she hadn't looked him in the eye.

Then she realized: this wasn't a dream at the back of his mind. This was what he was dreaming, right now. She'd picked it up like a radio.

She couldn't do that, could she?

Then again, until now, I'd never slept next to anyone in my life. Who knows what the effect could be?

The images swept over her again.

His feet scrunches on the gravel. His breathing catches. Polk reaches out to part the first stalks of wheat.

Aurora sat up, her chest heaving. She looked at Polk's back, wondering if she should move away. She didn't want to leave him, but this was... overwhelming and far more intimate than she'd ever expected.

Was this her future, when she was finally old enough to have serious relationships, to be battered by her lovers' dreams?

But as she hesitated, the images swept through her a third time, and she lost touch with the ground.

Polk walks through the wheat, his heart beating faster. He doesn't notice Aurora standing beside the path, staring at him as he passes.

Wait a minute, she thinks. She looks down at herself, at her arms. She pinches herself and raises a welt.

"What the hell?" she says.

Suddenly, Polk stands behind her. "What are you doing here?"

She whirls around. "I'm... sorry. I read dreams, remember?"

He's breathing heavily. His cheeks are red. "A little privacy, please?"

"I'll just go." She stumbles towards Matron's diner. The gravel scrunches underfoot.

"No!" Polk shouts. "Not that way!"

She opens the door, then stops, teetering, staring down into a pit.

The air fills with the screech of crows.

"Aurora!" Polk shouts, running to her, but too late. Aurora falls.

Sights and sounds bombard her. Memories.

...Polk slams through the diner door and tosses his schoolbooks aside. He turns to the stairs leading up to his room but stops to find Matron standing there.

"I've moved your stuff down here," she says.

He groans. "Aw, Matron!"

"She's here."

He stops mid-groan and looks into the living room. Aurora sits slouched on the battered couch, in her jeans and denim jacket. Her eyes are glazed, and she is flipping endlessly through the television channels on her remote.

"Go in and say 'hi'," says Matron.

Polk stares at Aurora. He braces himself and then walks into the living room.

She takes no notice of him. He settles in beside her and can't stop staring. She gives him the briefest glance.

"Um... hi," he says.

"Hi," she replies blandly and flicks to the next channel.

He looks at her another moment longer, then smiles. He settles back into the sofa and watches television...

...The air rushes past Aurora as she falls...

..."Swear it!" Matron shouts. "Lives count on you, boy. Don't let your parents down."

"But I don't want to," Polk moans. "I don't know her. I don't know who she is. Why should I care?"

Matron stands up. She says nothing. But Polk looks at her, then takes a breath. "I swear to protect her. I swear..."

...Aurora sinks further, lower...

...Matron is looking sad. Polk comes in and shows her the picture he's drawn, of her, cooking eggs on the grill. She smiles, then, and ruffles his hair...

...Down she falls...

..."Momma? Dadda?" Polk sobs.

Matron picks Polk up and hugs him to her shoulder. Her own shoulders quake. "I'm sorry, son. I'm so sorry!"...

...Further...

..."It'll be nice to have a friend to play with, won't it?" says his mother.

Polk looks up from the toy train engine he's playing with. He grins.

"I don't think he's figured it out," says his father.

They sit in the corner of the hospital waiting room, near the box of toys. Other figures sit and read magazines, dimming the sunlight that shines through the window.

"Would they be related?" asks his mother.

"Distantly," said his father. "At most cousins, I think. I don't understand human family connections."

There is a commotion at the end of the corridor. The people in the waiting room look up, then stand up.

The dark man bursts in. Aurora gasps to see him. His eyes shine. "They say her water's broke. The baby is coming. I'm going to be a dad."

He grins. He looks down and sees Polk, and picks him up. "I'm going be a dad!"

"You be da," Polk mimics.

The dark man swings Polk around, carrying him across the hospital waiting room while Polk made engine noises.

The dark man laughs. And Polk is laughing too. Laughing like a baby...

...Aurora grunts as she hits bottom--

Polk muttered in his sleep and rolled away, breaking the connection. Aurora was up on one elbow on the stubbled ground, her breathing ragged. She scrambled up and backed away from him, staring at his back and the moon shadow it cast.

Around her, the wind blew the smell of cold grass and loneliness.

She looked around. The land rolled away in moonlight. It was rugged, but at least she could see her way. Her legs were sore, but not so much she couldn't walk. And she didn't need to sleep. An hour or two was all she needed to make sure that he never found her. And then she could continue south to Saskatoon.

She picked up the bag of waterbottles, the cans and the can opener, taking care not to let the cans clunk together. After a moment's hesitation, she left two bottles behind Polk's back.

She cast one more glance at Polk's sleeping form.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. Then she turned away and set out away from the rail embankment, under the starry sky.

Forward to Chapter Six ->>

(Fiction Special) The Dream King's Daughter - Chapter Five: As the Crow Flies

This photo of Stauffer Lake, Saskatchewan, was taken by Theodore Garver and is used in accordance with his Creative Commons License.

In the previous chapter, Aurora and Polk fight off Salvadore and his weird influences in the abandoned general store, and hide from the dark figure as he arrives in his big rig made of crows. As the dark figure drags Salvadore away and heads south on the road, Aurora and Polk have no choice but to strike out into the open countryside. Read on to find out what awaits them there.

<Back to Chapter Four

The Dream King's Daughter - Chapter Five: As the Crow Flies

Aurora slammed into dreams every time she looked a classmate in the eye.�� By the end of the first week, she was sick with it.�� At recess, she sat in a window well at the base of the school, rolling a tennis ball between her feet. Laughter echoed around her. Roger and his muscle stumbled into view, cackling as they wrestled, staggering close to Aurora. She looked away.

Roger righted himself and shoved his friends away. They darted off, laughing. Roger leered at her. Aurora kept her gaze on the ground. When he ran off, Aurora glared at his back. Then she went back to kicking the tennis ball between her feet.

"Hey!" The sound of Albijana's aggrieved voice made Aurora look up.

At the school gate, Albijana stood trembling with frustration as Roger turned her red rubber ball over in his hands.

"Cool ball," he said, twisting out of her reach. "I bet if you bounce it really hard, it could go really high."

"Give it back!" Albijana wailed.

"Just let me test it." Roger pretended to bounce the ball on the ground, then hauled back and tossed it with all his might. It sailed high into the air, clearing the third-story windows of the school before disappearing above the roofline.

Roger grinned at Albijana. "Yup. It goes really high."

His friends laughed. Albijana stood rigid, fists clenched. Then she said something in Arabic. One of her friends heard it and gasped.

Roger sneered at her. "Out of my way, you little monkey."

People stopped and stared, but Roger pushed past Albijana and walked away. The girl turned and walked to the school wall, her shoulders slumped and her head down. She walked right up to Aurora without looking up, and would have bumped into her if Aurora hadn't cleared her throat.

Albijana jumped back. "I'm sorry!"

Aurora gave her a small smile. "It's okay." She shifted over to one side of the window well, making room. Albijana hesitated, then sat down on the concrete sill.

"Talk to a caretaker," said Aurora. "He can go to the roof and get it."

Albijana sniffed. "Okay."

They waited in silence for the school bell to ring.

Aurora looked at Albijana's light brown skin and long, dark hair. "Did they bomb your country?"

Albijana looked at her sharply.

Aurora swallowed. "I just... I read--"

"Yes," said Albijana, her eyes dark. Aurora shook the sound of air raid sirens out of her head.

"Why?" Albijana asked.

"I just-- I mean, I wanted to know-- You seemed-- It's--"

Albijana turned away. "Yes," she said again. "I hate it. I hate them."

"But you're safe here," said Aurora quietly.

Albijana shook her head. She picked up a pebble and turned it around in her fingers. "They're in my dreams. The bombs. The soldiers. Everybody running away. They won't stop."

Silence stretched.

"You know," said Aurora carefully. "It is... just... a dream."

"It's not a dream!" Albijana threw the stone to the ground. "It's not! It happened! It..." Her voice trailed off and she bit her lip.

"I know it happened," said Aurora quickly. "But when you go back in your dreams, it's still a dream. It's not real in your dreams."

"It feels real." Albijana tossed the pebble aside. "They say... if you die in your dreams, you die in real life."

"But... you don't have to do what the dreams tell you to do."

Albijana frowned at her, but she didn't turn away.

"Look," said Aurora, "My mother knows dreams. She says they're all the same; they take place in your head. It's all a part of your imagination. Well, we use our imagination all the time, right? We play rocket ships on the monkey bars. We play Fortress on the playground equipment. If we can make things into other things in our imagination, so, why not in our dreams?"

Albijana's brow furrowed.

"Try it," said Aurora. "Tell your dreams that you won't dream this anymore. Tell your dreams that you're taking over and doing what you want."

The school bell rang. Albijana stood up, still frowning. She walked to the doors without looking back.

#

Aurora and Polk decided to explore the abandoned store, first.

The screen door came off its hinges when Polk pulled on it. Inside, they covered their mouths and noses at the overpowering smell of mildew. Sunlight fell in shafts from gaps in the boards hammered over the windows. The floor was white, except for the dark footprints Aurora and Salvadore had left behind in the dust.

Aurora picked up a package of licorice off its display rack, sniffed it, then smacked it against the cash counter. The licorice shattered into a million pieces.

"There's nothing here." She tossed the rest of the package aside.

"There's got to be something." Polk blew a cloud of dust off a can of beans and turned it in his hands before holding it out to her. "See? This doesn't expire for another month."

"Oh, goody."

Aurora wandered around the store, raising clouds of dust. The cash register was open, its display showing a tab marked "No Sale". The drawer was empty. Then her foot hit something beneath the cash register. It was a cardboard pallet half full of water bottles.

She knelt down. "Polk! Over here!"

Polk rushed over and did a little shuffle of triumph. "Great! That's exactly what I was hoping for." He picked up a bottle, peered at it, and shook it. "Looks okay." He tossed her one.

She caught it, unscrewed the cap and took a swig, which became a chug. She gulped down the water and tossed the empty bottle aside, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "It's good," she said.

"Worth looking around after all?"

"Yeah, yeah."

Polk's grin faded. "How on earth are we going to carry all this?"

They found a dusty canvas bag tucked in the drawer under the broken cash register. They packed all the water they could into it. This filled the bag halfway and they were still able to carry it. Then they argued over the beans.

"They're useless, heavy, and frankly disgusting," said Aurora, her hands on her hips, wrinkling her nose as Polk waved a can in front of her.

"We're going to have to eat too, you know."

"I'll wait."

"You'll starve."

"I'm not going to starve!"

Polk heaved a long-suffering sigh.

She snatched the canvas bag. "Okay, you want beans? Have some beans!" She shoved an entire shelf full of cans into the canvas bag and handed it to him. Polk took the bag and dropped it on his foot.

Aurora stood with arms folded as Polk hopped about.

He rubbed his toe. "Thanks a million!" He dug into the bag and plunked half the cans back on the shelf. He hefted the bag in front of her. "Compromise?"

She weighed it in her hand. "You promise to carry this whenever I get tired?"

"Sure."

"Deal."

They picked up a can opener and plastic spoons from the housewares aisle and headed for the front door. At the front stood a rack of baseball caps. Polk picked one up and blew off a cloud of dust that made Aurora choke. He picked up another, beat the dust off against his pant leg, and handed it to her.

Aurora sneered at it. It was a denim cap with the Playboy logo on it. "I'm not wearing that!"

"In this weather, it's that or sunstroke."

Aurora grabbed the cap and tossed it away. She flipped through the rack and found a white cap with a Baltimore Ravens football logo on it. She beat the dust off and pulled it on.

Polk pulled on his hat. It was black and had the initials N.Y.P.D. stitched across it. "Ready?"

Aurora looked out the door at the wide, rolling landscape, and was struck again with the sense of being one of the last two humans in existence. The air in the store was heating up as fast as an oven. Outside, heat waves quivered above the ground.

Out in that with only beans and water? What the hell am I doing?

And what the hell am I doing getting Polk involved?

Polk turned to step outside, but she grabbed the doorframe, blocking him. He frowned at her. "What?"

"Where do you think you're going?"

He looked from her to the road and back again. "Saskatoon, like you said." He drew back from her, and his frown deepened. "With you."

Aurora stepped into the sunlight and gripped both sides of the door frame. "You don't have to." She pushed out her words. "If Matron's right, and it's me they're after, then you could just walk away, and be safe. So, why don't you be safe? As long as you're next to me, they're after you as well."

He shook his head. "No way. You're going to hike in a Saskatchewan heat wave? Miles from anywhere? That's insane! You might as well walk the Sahara."

"It's not that bad!"

"Is too!"

"Polk, don't go all Prince Charming on me. You don't have the looks, and you don't have the sword. This is between me and whoever is following me."

He reddened. "'Prince Charming'? Is that why you think I'm doing this? You want me to walk away while you face it all alone? You're insane! How can you think I'd do that, to anyone?"

"You could go see if Matron's all right," she said quietly.

They both winced. It was cruel to say that, but it needed saying. With the dark man focused on her, Matron could be okay for all they knew. But they didn't know. And Polk would want to know at least as much as she did.

He stood a long minute, his eyes closed. Then he looked up and looked her in the eye.

Polk walks through the wheat, his heart beating faster.

Aurora blinked the dream away and focused on Polk's forehead.

He took a deep breath. "I'm. Coming. With. You." He gave a final nod.

Aurora couldn't help smiling. "Okay. Thanks." She let go of the door frame. "Let's go."

"I'd bake in Prince Charming's armour, anyway," he muttered. He pulled the cloth straps of the canvas sack over each shoulder and wore the bag like a backpack.

They sauntered down the steps, walked back to the crest of the hill and stood looking down the road. The wind was still. The sun beat down from halfway up the eastern horizon. The sky had opened into a crystal-clear cornflower blue.

Polk shaded his eyes. They strained to peer at the road's vanishing point. Then Aurora saw it: a black speck in the sky, circling above the road. She strained her ears and heard the faint cry of crows.

"They're guarding the road."

"That could be anything," said Polk. But he took a step back.

"They're guarding the road. It's what I'd do."

"So ... what?"

Aurora watched the distant crows.�� "Let's follow the creek."

#

They followed the muddy bank. The sun rose higher and the shadows disappeared. Their pace slowed. Aurora pulled off her cap and wiped the sweat from her forehead.

In the silence, her mind tumbled. Why me, she thought. What do they want with me?

"You okay?" Polk's voice derailed her train of thought.

"What?"

"You're not watching where you're going." He was holding her by the elbow, guiding her away from the stream.

She sighed. "Why are they chasing me, Polk?"

"Um... Maybe you shouldn't think about that too hard. Maybe focus on walking through this heat instead?"

"But, it makes no sense." Aurora looked back. "Maybe I should go back and ask them."

"Yeah. Maybe they can help you pick out a good fabric for your sacrificial robe."

"Maybe if it's something I could give them, they'd stop--"

Matron's words echoed in her head. You can't let him take you, girl! It'll be disaster if he does! Whatever it was they wanted, it was no small thing.

"But why me?" She grimaced at the whine she heard in her voice. "I mean, trying to grab me in my dreams? Attacking us with crows and plastic bags?"

Polk nodded. "It seems a lot just to grab some young waitress, especially when there are plenty of prettier ones out there-- ow!"

He staggered back from her punch to his shoulder and planted his foot in the stream. He shook it out. "Great. Thanks."

"You're welcome."

He walked on with a step, shake-water-off, step, shake-water-off, step. Aurora stifled a laugh.

Polk's right, though, she thought. A fifteen -- almost sixteen -- year old waitress in some remote corner of Saskatchewan? It was ludicrous. What's so special about me--

She stopped in her tracks. Oh, yeah. The dream thing.

Polk stopped and turned back. "Aurora?"

The dream thing. That had to be it. It was the only thing that marks me off as special. But how could they know? I hadn't told anyone about my abilities, not outright. And the one person who'd experienced them -- she flinched at the memory -- was hardly in any condition to tell anyone.

But Mom knew.

"Get stuck in the mud?" Polk grinned. "Hey, are you okay?"

She drew her breath in. Her hands clenched into fists. "Damn it!" she yelled. Starlings burst out of the flowers and into the sky.

Polk whirled, looking for attackers rushing towards them. "I thought we were supposed to be in hiding!"

Aurora stomped her feet. "She knew! My mom knew! She shoved me here; she played with my memory to keep me 'safe.' She knew I was special enough that somebody wanted me, and she damn well never told me!"

Polk let the canvas bag slip from his shoulders. "Aurora, calm down."

She balled her hands into fists. She clenched her jaw shut and took a cleansing breath.

Then her mind caught up to her mouth. She looked up at Polk, horrified. She'd been reckless.

"Aurora? What's wrong?" His sardonic smile was gone.

But this was Polk. Her best friend in Cooper's Corners. The only person who'd made the place bearable. And he'd walked with her this far.

"I know why they're after me, Polk," she said. "I've never told anybody this before, but I can see people's dreams."

There was a long moment of silence. Polk stared at her. Aurora stared back, waiting. She tried again. "I mean, I can see what people are dreaming when I look them in the eye."

His eyes flickered aside, but he still said nothing.

"Have you gotten through your wheatfield yet?"

"Oh, crap!" He lunged away from her, covering his eyes. "Does privacy mean nothing to you?"

"I can't help it!" she yelled. "I can't control it. It just happens."

He lowered his hand and looked at her warily. "Oh." Then, more seriously, "Oh! That can not be fun."

She threw up her hands. "Tell me about it. For the past three years, I've wanted to punch Jake Ransom's face in. That's what I like about your dreams, Polk: I don't feel the need to take a shower after."

He straightened up, but still kept his gaze just out of eye contact. "Oh... Okay. I'll take that as a compliment. I think. How long have you... been able to do this?"

"Since my first period."

He ducked his head. "Too much information!"

"Hey, you asked!"

He shook his head, looking stunned. "So, you can see people's dreams. That's... neat, I guess." He caught her look. "Or, maybe not. How do you know that's why they're after you?"

"They're attacking me in dreams, and I can read dreams, that isn't enough of a connection?" She continued more quietly. "My mom knew something. She knew that people were after me, and she sent me here, to live with Aunt Matron."

"I always thought you were an orphan."

"I might as well be. She played with my memories to keep me here. Tried to make me forget my life in Winnipeg." She clenched her fists. "Polk, this is important. Tell me how you know me. How long have you known me?"

"Uh..." Polk opened his mouth, then closed it. "Three years. Aurora, this is too weird for me. Do we really have to talk about this out here--?"

"Three years?" Aurora echoed. "Not twelve or fifteen? I look at you and I say to myself, this is a boy I grew up with; from the moment we got up and toddled around. This is a boy I went to kindergarten with. But only the last three years have been real."

She realized, with a sudden jerk of her heart, that she felt robbed to be losing those memories of Polk.

"You came... to live with us... three years ago," said Polk at last, thinking hard and choosing his words with care. "Matron told me you were an orphan and that we were taking you in. She told me not to talk about your mother... because it was too painful for you."

"Or it could have brought the memories back." She looked up at him, marvelling that, for three years, this secret hadn't slipped out. Polk hadn't once said something like, 'Hey, you remember when you came to Cooper's Corners, three years ago?'

"Maybe they played with your memories too," she said.

"You'd think I'd remember that."

She shook her head. His grin faded.

"That's got to be it," she said. "It's the only thing that makes me special. They want me because I can see into people's dreams."

"Why?"

"I don't know. Matron did everything she could to make sure I didn't find out. Maybe this person in Saskatoon can tell me." She set her teeth. "I can't believe my Mom wouldn't tell me!"

"Okay," said Polk. "My next big question: what exactly can we do with this information out here where we are?"

Aurora looked around, at the meandering strip of mud that passed for a creek, at the sea of brush and flowers that stretched to the horizon, at the blue dome of the sky. Her shoulders sagged. "Nothing. Let's keep going." She pushed past Polk.

He shrugged on the canvas bag and fell into step beside her, but she hardly noticed him.

Mom knew about me. The words rolled around in her head. She knew.

#

The sun rose too high for the creek's shallow banks to provide any shade. They trudged on. Aurora noticed they were approaching a low ridge running along the northeastern horizon. As they rounded a bend in the stream, they saw that the ridge crossed the creek, with a bridge that looked like a platform on stilts.

Aurora squinted at it. "That's too small to be a road bridge."

"Maybe it's a cattle crossing or something," said Polk.

There were no farmhouses in sight. The only structures were the bridge, the ridge (which didn't look natural), and a line of power poles stretching into the distance.

Polk staggered.

Aurora frowned at him. "You wait here. I'll take a look around."

Leaving Polk puffing beside the creek, Aurora clawed her way up the embankment and poked her head above the bridge, feeling like a prairie dog peering out from its den. Her vision was blocked by a low wall of iron. She craned her head higher and saw that the low wall was actually a rail. Two ribbons of rusted steel curved away in either direction, drawing together as they reached the vanishing point.

"Huh," she said and ducked down.

"It's a rail line," she called to Polk. "And it's heading south."

Polk looked up from where he sat slumped on the bank. "So?"

She looked up and down the run of the creek. "The creek was heading east," she said, "and now it's heading north-east. Saskatoon's south, so we're moving away from where we want to go." Then she focused on Polk. "Are you okay?"

He looked up at her, breathing heavily. "Me? I'm fine! Fine. So, east or south?"

Sweat cut lines in the dust on his face. His white t-shirt was grey and soggy. Aurora's frown deepened as she came down the embankment. "You want me to carry the bag?"

"What?" He straightened up sharply. "No, I can handle it. Come on! Let's keep moving."

"I'd like some water, please."

Polk sagged with relief and slipped the cloth straps off his shoulders. He rummaged through the sack and brought out two bottles. He handed her one and twisted the cap off the other.

"Hey." She caught him with the bottle halfway to his mouth. "Drink slowly. Don't choke yourself."

They both drank. Then stood looking at each other, casting tempted glances at the sack full of water, but decided to save it for later. Polk hefted the straps over his shoulders.

"You want me to carry that?" asked Aurora. "It's been a couple of hours."

"I'm fine. I'm here to help, you know." He grinned at her. "I swore to protect you."

Aurora rolled her eyes.

"I did! Placed my hand on the Good Book and everything! Anybody who comes after you has to get through me first. I also carry your bags."

"C'mon Polk, it's been hours. I should take a turn too."

"I said, I'm okay!" He slipped and fell forward. One of the cans rolled out of the bag and thwacked him in the back of his head. "Ow!"

Aurora scrambled over and caught the bag before more of its contents could spill onto Polk. He looked up at her, dazed. "Okay," he said. "You can carry it a bit."

They followed the tracks south. The rails were rusted, but the gravel was well-groomed. Walking from tie to tie, they picked up the pace. Aurora puffed with the canvas sack on her back. How had Polk managed to carry this the entire morning? Sometimes, it felt as though she could point her toes, and it would drive her into the ground like a nail.

She let her hands drop to her sides. Her left hand brushed against Polk's. Their hands jerked apart as though they'd felt a shock. On they plodded. The ribbons of iron shimmered, making Aurora think of water. Again, her hand brushed Polk's. This time they didn't pull away. After a moment, she took his hand. Polk gave it a squeeze. They brought their heads down and pushed forward.

The afternoon disappeared into a haze of heat.

As the sun set, and they ambled around a curve on the rail embankment, the land ahead dropped away. They looked out on rolling scrublands full of grass and flowers. Aurora groaned at the sight of mile after mile of unpaved ground. Damn nature!

But as she took a few more steps, and more of the landscape pulled into view, her breath caught.

At first sh,e thought it was another mirage. But as she walked, she could see this was no mirage. The sun glittered on a sparkling mirror, a slough of water that stretched out in a circle a hundred metres wide, reflecting so brightly that they had to shield their eyes.

Aurora stopped. Polk stopped too. They stood there, breathing hard, transfixed by the glittering water, but too tired to move or speak.

"Ooo, that's sooo tempting," Aurora moaned at last.

"Yeah," said Polk.

She looked up at him. "Want a swim?"

He thought about it. "Aren't we supposed to be on the run?"

They looked at the slough and then at each other. Sweat beaded on their faces and trickled down their necks. Aurora's t-shirt was stained and sticking to her. And it had been eight hours since they'd seen anything resembling a crow.

She shrugged off the canvas bag and dropped it beside the rails. Polk broke into a grin. "Last one in is a rotten egg!"

Aurora tripped him, sending him sprawling on the embankment. She dashed for the pond, kicking off her shoes, jumping out of her jeans, and stripping down to her underwear. She danced out of her socks just in time to splash into the water. Polk stomped after her but stopped when he saw her jeans fly past him and land in the grass.

Aurora surfaced, gasping, delighting at the prickle of goosebumps. She looked around and saw Polk on the bank, staring at her with his mouth open.

"What?" she called. "Aren't you coming in?"

"You--" He gestured at her shirt and jeans lying on the bank.

"Don't be silly! I'm wearing underwear." But to her horror, she felt herself beginning to blush.

"But..." He waved his hands.

"Well, I'm sorry!" She walked backwards deeper into the water until she was a head bobbing on top of its own reflection. "In our mad dash to escape, I somehow forgot to pack our swimsuits. Look, it's not like my underwear shows anything more. At least this way, you don't have to look the other way while I change into a bikini. Now, are you coming in, or what?"

Polk hesitated. Then he whooped and pulled off his pants, shoes and shirt. Aurora laughed. Polk dove into the water with a huge splash.

They swam lengths. Aurora took a few minutes to wash the mud, sweat and abandoned bathroom smell from her jeans and t-shirt, spreading them out to dry on the flowers. They spent the next half hour splashing each other, playing tag, before finally collapsing by the water's edge, gazing up at the sky as the water lapped around them.

"We needed that," said Aurora at last.

"Yeah. We did." Polk sat up, sloshing water over her. "Let's eat."

She struggled to sit up. "Give me a hand here."

He clasped her hand. "Sure. Come on." He hauled her to her feet.

They slipped on the muddy bottom. Aurora teetered, her free arm cartwheeling. Polk staggered but caught her, one hand clasped around her side. Aurora's breath caught. She'd never realized just how strong he was. They stood a moment, staring at each other, their faces dangerously close.

She saw Polk's gaze run quickly up and down her body, then plant itself at a safe spot somewhere by her right ear. His cheeks glowed red. To her disgust, she was blushing furiously too.

Polk coughed. "Um..."

"Don't let go yet!" she snapped. She was still balanced precariously on one foot, and Polk was taking her weight. She staggered fully upright. Then she cleared her throat, and nodded curtly. "You can let go now. Thanks."

"You're welcome."

They turned their backs on each other and ran for their clothes.

Aurora felt more comfortable once she'd pulled on her jeans and shirt. They were stained and still a bit damp, but smelled okay. They worked together to sort out the canvas sack and hand each other water bottles. Sitting on the embankment below the tracks, they had a dinner of cold beans. The sun set. The sky darkened, and the stars came out.

"So, I guess we're stopping here for the night?" Aurora rubbed the knots out of her legs.

"You want to wander around in the dark? Besides, we need our sleep."

"Yeah." Aurora lay back and looked up at the sky again, and was startled at the number of stars she saw. The sky hardly had room enough for them all. "Wow," she breathed. "There really is a Milky Way."

She had spent almost three years in Cooper's Corners, but with a lifetime of experience, she had already seen all the stars and grown tired of them. Now she looked up at them with the eyes of a city girl who hadn't realized that the sky had depth. The universe was a lot bigger than she'd ever thought it could be.

"What are we going to do, Polk?" she said at last.

He rolled over in the dark and clasped her hand. "Don't worry--"

"I'm not talking about this chase. I'm talking about after."

"Can't we just go back... to Matron?"

"No," said Aurora. "Not after keeping me here with my fake memories."

"Find your mother, maybe?"

"If I can." But she shook her head. "Mom abandoned me. I lived the rest of my life in a lie. Like it or not, I'm on my own." She rolled away from him and rested her head on her arm. "There's no going back. The only way forward is forward."

They lay in silence as the twilight deepened. Finally, Aurora rolled back over and looked at Polk. "Do you have any dreams?"

"Only when I'm dreaming."

"You're always dreaming," said Aurora.

He frowned at her.

"Seriously. Everybody dreams in the daytime, and not just in daydreams. You only notice your dreams when you're asleep and your mind has nothing else to do. But the part of the mind that does the dreaming doesn't shut down. Everybody dreams, all the time."

Polk stared at her, eyebrows raised.

"Trust me," she said. "I know."

He gave her a lopsided grin. "If you say so."

He lingered on the grin, and she couldn't help blushing. The grassy embankment was bigger than all the beds in the world, but the thought of sharing it with him still gave her a strange thrill.

In her mind's eye, she slapped herself.

The moon rose. After a while, Aurora heard Polk snoring. She waited a moment longer, then scooched over on her back until her elbow touched his arm. She settled back with a contented sigh.

The wind brushes the wheat, rippling the tassels like surf .

Aurora blinked up at the sky. What had just happened?

She'd seen a dream. She'd seen Polk's dream, but she hadn't looked him in the eye.

Then she realized: this wasn't a dream at the back of his mind. This was what he was dreaming, right now. She'd picked it up like a radio.

She couldn't do that, could she?

Then again, until now, I'd never slept next to anyone in my life. Who knows what the effect could be?

The images swept over her again.

His feet scrunches on the gravel. His breathing catches. Polk reaches out to part the first stalks of wheat.

Aurora sat up, her chest heaving. She looked at Polk's back, wondering if she should move away. She didn't want to leave him, but this was... overwhelming and far more intimate than she'd ever expected.

Was this her future, when she was finally old enough to have serious relationships, to be battered by her lovers' dreams?

But as she hesitated, the images swept through her a third time, and she lost touch with the ground.

Polk walks through the wheat, his heart beating faster. He doesn't notice Aurora standing beside the path, staring at him as he passes.

Wait a minute, she thinks. She looks down at herself, at her arms. She pinches herself and raises a welt.

"What the hell?" she says.

Suddenly, Polk stands behind her. "What are you doing here?"

She whirls around. "I'm... sorry. I read dreams, remember?"

He's breathing heavily. His cheeks are red. "A little privacy, please?"

"I'll just go." She stumbles towards Matron's diner. The gravel scrunches underfoot.

"No!" Polk shouts. "Not that way!"

She opens the door, then stops, teetering, staring down into a pit.

The air fills with the screech of crows.

"Aurora!" Polk shouts, running to her, but too late. Aurora falls.

Sights and sounds bombard her. Memories.

...Polk slams through the diner door and tosses his schoolbooks aside. He turns to the stairs leading up to his room but stops to find Matron standing there.

"I've moved your stuff down here," she says.

He groans. "Aw, Matron!"

"She's here."

He stops mid-groan and looks into the living room. Aurora sits slouched on the battered couch, in her jeans and denim jacket. Her eyes are glazed, and she is flipping endlessly through the television channels on her remote.

"Go in and say 'hi'," says Matron.

Polk stares at Aurora. He braces himself and then walks into the living room.

She takes no notice of him. He settles in beside her and can't stop staring. She gives him the briefest glance.

"Um... hi," he says.

"Hi," she replies blandly and flicks to the next channel.

He looks at her another moment longer, then smiles. He settles back into the sofa and watches television...

...The air rushes past Aurora as she falls...

..."Swear it!" Matron shouts. "Lives count on you, boy. Don't let your parents down."

"But I don't want to," Polk moans. "I don't know her. I don't know who she is. Why should I care?"

Matron stands up. She says nothing. But Polk looks at her, then takes a breath. "I swear to protect her. I swear..."

...Aurora sinks further, lower...

...Matron is looking sad. Polk comes in and shows her the picture he's drawn, of her, cooking eggs on the grill. She smiles, then, and ruffles his hair...

...Down she falls...

..."Momma? Dadda?" Polk sobs.

Matron picks Polk up and hugs him to her shoulder. Her own shoulders quake. "I'm sorry, son. I'm so sorry!"...

...Further...

..."It'll be nice to have a friend to play with, won't it?" says his mother.

Polk looks up from the toy train engine he's playing with. He grins.

"I don't think he's figured it out," says his father.

They sit in the corner of the hospital waiting room, near the box of toys. Other figures sit and read magazines, dimming the sunlight that shines through the window.

"Would they be related?" asks his mother.

"Distantly," said his father. "At most cousins, I think. I don't understand human family connections."

There is a commotion at the end of the corridor. The people in the waiting room look up, then stand up.

The dark man bursts in. Aurora gasps to see him. His eyes shine. "They say her water's broke. The baby is coming. I'm going to be a dad."

He grins. He looks down and sees Polk, and picks him up. "I'm going be a dad!"

"You be da," Polk mimics.

The dark man swings Polk around, carrying him across the hospital waiting room while Polk made engine noises.

The dark man laughs. And Polk is laughing too. Laughing like a baby...

...Aurora grunts as she hits bottom--

Polk muttered in his sleep and rolled away, breaking the connection. Aurora was up on one elbow on the stubbled ground, her breathing ragged. She scrambled up and backed away from him, staring at his back and the moon shadow it cast.

Around her, the wind blew the smell of cold grass and loneliness.

She looked around. The land rolled away in moonlight. It was rugged, but at least she could see her way. Her legs were sore, but not so much she couldn't walk. And she didn't need to sleep. An hour or two was all she needed to make sure that he never found her. And then she could continue south to Saskatoon.

She picked up the bag of waterbottles, the cans and the can opener, taking care not to let the cans clunk together. After a moment's hesitation, she left two bottles behind Polk's back.

She cast one more glance at Polk's sleeping form.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. Then she turned away and set out away from the rail embankment, under the starry sky.

(Fiction Special) The Dream King's Daughter Chapter Four: In a Nameless Town

This photograph of abandoned buildings in Wood Mountain, Saskatchewan is by Masterhatch and is used in accordance with his Creative Commons License.

In the previous chapter, we flashback to the time Aurora discovered her uncanny ability to see what others were dreaming. In the present day, we discover that Polk has inadvertently stowed away in Matron's car while Aurora makes her escape. After pulling themselves out of another dream that was blocking them from reality, they come to a small, almost abandoned hamlet in need of gas, supplies and a bathroom break. They're met by the mysterious owner of the general store, Salvadore, who quickly shows that he doesn't have their interests at heart. Aurora, drugged, blacks out, and Salvadore states that a very important person is coming to talk to her.

Now on with the story.

<Back to Chapter Three

The Dream King's Daughter - Chapter Four: In a Nameless Town

Aurora walked home from school alone, hands in the pockets of her new denim jacket, eyes on the ground. She followed the sidewalks without looking at the traffic lights.

She jumped when an arm reached out, barring her way.

"Whoa, there," said a bespectacled crossing guard. "Where's your mind at today?"

"Sorry," Aurora mumbled.

"Not as sorry as you'd be if you just walked out into traffic," said the guard.

She looked up at him. His gaze met hers...

A small boy stands in the middle of the road, staring in terror at an oncoming dump truck.

"Never fear! I shall save you!" The crossing guard flies down from the rooftops, lands in front of the little boy, and raises his stop sign.

The truck driver applies the brakes. The horn blares. There is a squeal and the smell of burning rubber. The truck stops within inches of the two of them.

The little boy hugs the crossing guard's leg. "You saved me!"

The crossing guard beams at the little boy. "Not to worry, son. All in a day's work for--"

Aurora smiled despite herself. The guard faced the road and held up his stop sign. Traffic stopped, and he grandly ushered her forward like royalty. Aurora curtsied and crossed the street. As she passed the guard, she said, "Thanks... Crossing Guard Man."

He stared at her, eyes wide. She walked on without looking back.

All the way home, Aurora thought about her strange new power. As she closed the front door and pulled off her coat, she wondered how, or if, she could tell her mom about it. Her mother hadn't included it in their 'facts of life' discussion (which Aurora remembered in all of its excruciating, red-faced detail). She'd been smart enough not to tell any of the other kids. They just thought she was weird. If she told somebody, even her mom, they might think she was crazy. They might even lock her up.

But maybe I am crazy. Maybe I need to be locked up.

She heard her mom rummaging in the kitchen and shouted, "Mom! I'm home!"

"In here, honey!" her mom shouted back. And at her mother's voice, Aurora relaxed. This is Mom I'm talking about. She'll know. She'll hug me and tell me that it's going to be all right, and it will.

Aurora bounded into the kitchen and saw her mother putting groceries away. Takeout bags from Branigan's filled the room with their french fry smell. Mother hadn't even had time to change out of her work clothes. She looked up as Aurora came in and beamed at her. "How was your day?"

"Okay, I guess. Another math quiz. I did all right."

"That's nice, honey!" Her mother put another grocery bag on the counter and pulled out a lime green and teal package. "Oh, and look what I got you from the store today." She presented it with a flourish. "Maxi pads!"

Aurora went pink. "Mom!"

Her mother clasped the package of feminine pads as though it was something precious. "Can't I be happy about my little girl growing up?"

"Sure, Mom, but--" Aurora shuddered. She snatched the package and tucked it under her arm. "Just don't let the neighbours hear, okay?"

Her mother grinned and turned back to the groceries. Aurora placed the package on the counter, then turned back to her mom, her hands clasped in front of her, knuckles whitening. "Mom?"

Head within the fridge, her mother said, "What is it, honey?"

Aurora brought her hands to her lips and steepled her fingers, but the words wouldn't come out. She opened her mouth, held it a moment, then shut it before opening it again. "Mom?"

"Yes?" The mayonnaise jar clunked against the shelf.

"Mom..." She took a deep breath. "Something strange... happened at school."

Her mother almost bumped her head on the top of the refrigerator compartment. She pulled herself up and looked at her daughter. "What happened, honey?"

"I... I was... talking to my friend, Anne. And I looked at her, and... and I could see what she was thinking. She was jealous about my jacket," Aurora began. "And Miss Daultry... she dreams about teaching a class without any students in it. And the other kids--"

She looked up at her mother and into her mother's eyes.

...Dawn leaves a squat medical building, passing the sign bearing her name and title: Dr. Dawn Perrault, Psychologist/Sleep Specialist. She crosses the asphalt patch towards the streetcar stop--

"Dawn," says a voice. "Don't go, Dawn."

A truck driver stands on the pavement in front of his black big rig, his arms folded. He wears black jeans, black cowboy boots, and a black shirt with a collar. His smile shines like the sun breaking from behind clouds.

"How do you know my name? Who are you?"

His chuckle resonates in her chest, and her breathing catches...

..."Don't be afraid," he says.

"I'm not afraid!" She knows she should be. A strange man who knows her name, asking her aboard his truck. He's bigger than her.�� And yet--

"You don't have to if you don't want to," he says.

--she wants to...

"Show me."

The truck drives into the night, faster and faster, breaking speed limits, but no one notices. The street lights play off its shiny black exterior, fluttering off the mirrors, teasing the shadows like feathers. The wheels lift off. Wings catch the air.

The giant crow rises skyward, Dawn clasps the back of his neck...

...Dawn nestles in an embrace of shadow.

Oh, God! Oh, God! Yes!...

Aurora jerked back, looking at anything but her mother's eyes. She needed a shower. I shouldn't be able to look into people's private dreams like this! It's just wrong!

Her mother stood by the refrigerator, her hand over her mouth. For a long moment, they stood on opposite sides of the kitchen, not looking at each other, not speaking.

Then her mother stepped forward. "Aurora, are you okay? What's wrong?" She opened her arms. "Come here, honey."

Aurora ran into her mother's arms.

"What's really happening, honey?" said her mom in her ear.

"It was weird..." Aurora's voice was muffled in her mother's sweater. "It was a weird... dream! Yeah. A weird dream." She gulped. "Weirdest dream ever."

"A dream." Her mother held Aurora out to look at her face. Her mom's face was ashen, but she nodded. "Th-that's... horrible, honey. But it was just a dream. You know that, right? You don't have to dream that again if you don't want to."

"No," said Aurora, hugging her mom close again. "No. I don't want to."

They ate dinner in silence.

The next day, Aurora saw her mother hang the first spirit ball on their front door.

#

Aurora struggled awake from only the second bout of sleep she could remember since she was twelve.

Like the first, this one left her feeling anything but refreshed. Her head ached, and her mouth tasted bitter and sticky. She groaned, kept her eyes closed, and tried to touch her forehead. When her hand remained firmly planted behind her back, she opened her eyes.

Who'd turned out the lights?

She blinked until her eyes adjusted to the darkness. She gagged at the smell. No cleaning fluid here, just rotting wood, ancient mothballs, and stale urine.

What little light there was came through a cracked window that was caked with dirt. She was lying on her side in a bathroom -- no, the same bathroom, the one she'd seen Mom in. The notice board hung askew on the wall, notices faded or ripped away, but with the photo of the missing girl still smiling at her. The sink and toilet were where she'd first seen them. The toilet looked... And she'd used it...

"Ugh!"

The mirror was spotted and cracked. Tiles were missing on the floor and walls. The bathroom seemed to have aged twenty years in a single moment. Or maybe this was just what it had always looked like, covered up by an illusion of cleanliness, just like the smell of cleaning fluid that had been all over this place.

The oddness of it all stopped her for a moment. Then, when she tried to pick herself up off the floor, she remembered that she couldn't move her hands from behind her. She looked down at herself and gasped.

Shiny grey bands wrapped around her knees and ankles, biting into her jeans. The pressure on her wrists behind her told her that they were bound as well.

Her heart pounded and her breathing quickened. He's tied me up! Tied me up like some damsel in distress!

But he hadn't gagged her. Which meant he didn't expect anybody to be around who could hear her yell. And he was probably right, which sucked. And though nobody could hear her yell, he could. And if he realized that she was awake, he could stop her from escaping before she'd even started.

She held her breath, then let it out slow. As her racing heart eased, she thought, Right. So, the first thing I have to do is keep quiet. And the next thing I have to do is get myself free. Quickly and quietly.

Aurora rolled onto her back and sat up. She leaned against a wall that sagged under her weight as she took stock of things. She looked for knots on her ropes and found... none.

They weren't ropes at all, but shiny, silky strands, thinner than hair, but so many, they held her with the strength of steel. They were like...

Spider silk.

Aurora looked up and caught movement in the gloom. Salvadore's two spiders crouched on the bathroom tiles by the toilet stall.�� You couldn't tell where spiders were looking so they weren't looking at her, right?

They were looking at her.

A quick glance around the bathroom told her that, other than the spiders, she was alone. She looked at the spiders again. They looked back.

No, she thought. You can drug me, tie me up and stick me in a dirty bathroom somewhere, but being guarded by spiders is where I draw the line.

With a grunt, she pushed herself up the wall to her feet. Bound ankle and knee, with her wrists tied behind her, she hopped menacingly towards the watching spiders. They quivered, then scuttled away.

"Oh, no, you don't!" Aurora judged the last leap on the fly. Something squelched beneath her shoes. "Yes!" Her cry of joy turned to an 'Eep!' as momentum tipped her forward. The dividing wall between the toilet and sink loomed in her vision. Her hands tied behind her back, there was nothing she could do.

The soggy drywall crunched under her forehead. She sank to her knees, face dragging down the mouldy surface, and lay propped there for a while.

"Ow..."

She pushed herself away and looked the false wall up and down. The tiles were cracked near the base and showed exposed edges, perfect for cutting bonds. The wall was also surrounded by a yellowish puddle of suspicious-smelling water, but a damsel had to do what a damsel had to do. She turned around, leaned against the wall and slid down, settling into the puddle. She grimaced as the smelly water -- she hoped it was water -- soaked her jeans, and began rubbing her bound wrists with the ragged edge of a broken tile. Minutes later, the bonds came apart.

She grunted triumphantly and brought her hands around to rub the pins and needles out of them. Then she set about tearing at the strands binding her knees and ankles, using fingers and sometimes teeth. She spat out mashed spider silk and was back on her feet, dripping but smiling smugly. Aurora Perrault, damsel in distress? No friggin' way!

Then she frowned. Where's Polk? How long have I been out? He should have noticed something wrong by now.

Her frown deepened. Yes, he would. And while he might be lazy, he'd try to do something about it.

So, where is he?

Her job had just become a lot harder.

She tiptoed to the bathroom door, gripped the door handle and listened for voices.

Salvadore was speaking in the next room, but he seemed to be alone. At least, she couldn't hear a second voice.

She crept out of the bathroom, careful to close the door behind her without the doorknob clicking. Crouching low, she eased forward.

"Yes, she's here," Salvadore said. "I got her, all packed up and waiting for you."

Aurora paused at the end of the housewares aisle and peered down it towards the front of the store. Salvadore was standing at the cash register, leaning on the counter with his back to her, his hand cupped to his ear.

He drew up sharply. "I didn't hurt her." There was a squabble on the other end of the line. "I didn't. Yes, she is restrained." More squabbles. "Look, she wasn't going to come quietly!"

Aurora ran her gaze across the open space between her and Salvadore. There were three aisles of groceries on her right, but the rest of the space was open except for an abandoned display bin that had once held candy bars. Above Salvadore, a security mirror displayed the whole store. Aurora could see herself in its age-scarred surface, creeping up, but Salvadore was too engrossed in his call to look up.

There was a burst of babble on the other end of the line.

"Look," snapped Salvadore, "she doesn't know the truth; she just thinks she's a normal kid -- there's no way she can believe the truth, especially if I'm the one to tell her. So, I thought I'd leave the explanation to you."

The squabbling intensified again. Salvadore raised his other hand in a futile gesture to ward it off.

Aurora crept past one shelf and into the cover of another aisle. She peered out into the open area and stepped out again. The front door was closer but still too far away for her to chance a run.

"Will you listen to me?" Salvadore cut in finally. "I gave you my word of honour that I would find her and that she will not be the worse for wear. You know how much my word is worth."

There was a brief squabble. Salvadore straightened up angrily. "Very funny! Look, you come and untie her, you talk to her, and soon you'll have her wrapped around your little finger. I assure you. Okay?"

There was a grumpy mumble at the other end, but Salvadore nodded. "Good." He half turned towards the store. Aurora froze, but he turned back. "Wait, what? The other one? I had to get him out of the way. In the course of duty, you understand?"

A brief squabble.

"Why?" echoed Salvadore. "Well, for one thing, he's bigger than her and a lot harder to dupe, that's why! I had to take stronger measures." A short gabble. "Good! Good to know."

There was a click. Salvadore dropped his empty hand to his side. He cracked his knuckles. "I'd better go check up on Charlotte, Arabella, and my charming little prisoner." Smiling, he turned around.

And Aurora brained him with the cast iron frying pan she'd picked up in aisle three.

#

Aurora burst out of the general store and blinked at the sudden brightness. The car was where they'd left it, by the gas pumps, which now looked even older and more sun-bleached, their logos faded to nothing. The nozzle stuck in their car was brown with rust. Aurora stepped around the car and tried the pump. It wasn't working. The nozzle left brown stains on her palms.

She looked around. The general store sagged where hours ago it had stood tall. The boards on the windows were coming off their nails and swinging in the wind. The barn at the top of the hill was more frame than walls. It had all been a great big fake.

But how? I saw it. I smelt it. How could it all have been a dream?

She clenched her fists. Another dream out to get me. When did I slip into it? If these dreams can catch me that easily, how can I even begin to defend myself?

"Polk?" she called. Her words echoed back at her. "Polk!"

She looked around, then down at her stained hands. She hooked the nozzle back on the gas pump, only for the hose to break off and flop to the ground, and walked around the store. "Polk!"

The fields around the store grew wild; barley mixed with saskatoons and wild grasses. Aurora's feet crunched on the gravel. She passed a pile of rusted car parts. The wind brushed back her hair. The only sound was the rustle and snap of the dirty plastic bags rising and falling above the saskatoons, caught in their never-ending updraft.

"Polk!" she shouted again.

She reached the back of the store and found him sprawled on the ground. She ran to him. "Polk!"

He lay out cold, eyes closed, eyelids fluttering. She put her ear close to his mouth and nose. He was breathing, but barely.

Aurora checked him over for injury, but there were no broken bones. No marks whatsoever, except a slight purple-red, like the start of a bruise, over his mouth and nose. Then what had knocked him out? The ground was scuffled around him, but there was only one set of footprints: his.

She leaned close and shook him by the shoulders. "Polk? Polk! Wake up!"

He mumbled and tried to roll over in his sleep.

She shook him harder. "Polk!"

He came to, yelling, clawing at unseen monsters close to his face. Aurora caught his wrists. "Polk! Polk! It's okay! It's just me!"

He stopped struggling. He blinked at her. "Aurora?" He looked past her, and his eyes widened. "Look out!"

"What--" She looked over her shoulder.

Smack! She recoiled as one of the plastic bags swept out of the air and caught her across the cheek and shoulder. She beat at it, but it clung to her.

Smack! Slap! Two more plastic bags hit her: one across the chest and one across her chin.

Slap! This one swept over her face. She felt it wrap around her head and tighten as if it had knotted behind her. She gasped and sucked in plastic.

Panic hit her, and she flailed, but she couldn't see, she couldn't grapple with anything, and she couldn't breathe. She desperately tried to suck in air, but the plastic made a taut drum over her gaping mouth. Her vision darkened.

Fingers clawed at her head, scratched her ear, and pulled the bag free. The plastic stuck like flypaper. Polk tried to throw it away, but it wrapped around his fingers and knotted over the back of his hand.

"Polk--" she started, then yelled as a bag slapped and tightened across his face until he looked like a plastic mannequin. He staggered and flailed at the plastic stretched across his mouth, his fingers useless under their plastic binding. Aurora grabbed an edge and yanked, her fingernails drawing blood across Polk's cheeks. She clutched the fluttering thing and shoved it under her foot. She saw a small fieldstone within reach and slammed it on top. The bag struggled to rise, but the rock held firm.

She looked back in time to see more bags swooping down, but Polk was ready. He batted them away. She tore off the bag that was beating at her chest and stuffed it under another fieldstone. They stood back-to-back, hands raised warily as the plastic bags circled. They swatted and clawed at any that swooped close.

Aurora shouted at the bags and the wind. "Leave us alone!"

The bags ducked and weaved for an opening, but Polk and Aurora stood ready to fend off any attack. Then the wind abruptly calmed, leaving the bags hovering in midair a moment, before another gust swept them away and vanished them into the fields of barley.

Aurora and Polk stayed where they were, back to back, arms raised. After a long moment, Aurora realized her hands were shaking. She lowered her arms. They looked at each other.

"Are you okay?" Aurora asked.

Polk bent over gasping, pressing his hands to his knees. He nodded. "More or less."

She looked across the fields, to see if any other danger was lying in wait. If there was, she couldn't see it. She grabbed his arm. "Let's get out of here." She started off towards the front of the store.

Polk followed her, staying close. "Where's that guy?" he asked as the gravel crunched. "Salvadore?"

"Unconscious. At least, I hope so. I bashed him in the head with a frying pan."

Polk whooped. "Way to go!"

The front of the store was as she'd left it. There was no sound but the wind, a low ghostly moan. They stopped at the station wagon.

"I couldn't get the pumps to work," said Polk.

"That's because there's no gas."

He looked up and down the road, and raised his hands. "This is the only place around for miles and we're nearly empty. What do we do?"

Aurora opened the car door. "Just get in and go."

Polk hesitated. "But we haven't brought anything. We've no supplies."

"Polk," she said irritably, "there's nothing here. It's just a trap. We've got to go."

"No." He pushed away from the car. "We're almost out of gas. If we run out in the middle of nowhere, we should at least have water."

"Salvadore's in there!"

"It's two against one, now, and we know what to expect." He turned towards the front door.

A change in the silence made Aurora hesitate before she followed him. She listened. A gentle roar started up at the edge of hearing and rose steadily. It could be an engine. In a moment, she'd know for sure, but by then it might be too late.

She looked up the road the way they had come. A small cloud of yellow-grey dust was rising on the horizon, almost lost among the heat shimmers coming off the asphalt.

"Polk!" she shouted. She pointed up the road. "We've got to go, now!"

He looked at the northern horizon, then came down the front steps. "Hey, this is lucky. We could use them as back-up and then hitch a ride out of here."

She shook her head. This is wrong. It's more than just drugged ice cream sodas and demonic plastic bags. This isn't a matter of three strikes, and you're out. That truck, whatever it is, is the only vehicle we've seen on this road since running from Cooper's Corners. That can't be a coincidence. But how can I convince Polk when he's just so oblivious?

A thought struck her, and she leaned against the car. "Polk, four points. What is it?"

He closed his eyes automatically. "It's a rig." He tilted his head. "It will be black, with..." He frowned. "That's strange... I can't tell--"

Just like that rig that had brought the dark man and his vision of crows. Aurora opened her door wider and slid in. "Polk, get in, we're leaving!" She fumbled with the ignition, and the car grumbled to life. "Get in, dammit!"

Polk ducked into the passenger seat and slammed his door. "What are you doing? We'll end up stuck on the side of the road, sitting ducks!"

"We'll have to hide the car." Aurora put the car in gear.

"Hide?" Polk waved a hand at the wide-open landscape. Nothing was more than chest height. "Where?"

The car hit the road with a spray of gravel. The low-gas indicator on the dashboard began to flash and ding. "I know, I know," Aurora muttered.

They topped a ridge and stared down at a small valley barely fifty metres wide. A short bridge over a narrow creek lay at the bottom.

"There!" Aurora pointed.

"Where?"

Aurora twisted the wheel and the station wagon careened off the road. Polk clutched the grab handle above the door. The car jounced. Branches beat against the front grille. Aurora twisted the wheel and the car staggered onto the creek bed -- not much more than a strip of mud. She kept twisting, and the roadway came back into view. The creek passed through a culvert barely as tall and wide as the car. Aurora revved the engine. The wheels spun, producing a wake in the muddy water like a motorboat.

Polk sat up in his seat and grabbed for more handholds. "Oh, no."

"Oh, yes," said Aurora, her face grim.

Polk yelled as the car smashed into the culvert. The side mirrors sheared off. The sides of the car squealed like fingernails on a blackboard. Sparks flew from the corrugated metal of the culvert. Aurora and Polk pitched forward. The airbags billowed out to catch them.

There was a moment of near-silence as Aurora and Polk sat, gasping. Then Aurora shoved the airbag canvas away and turned off the ignition.

"There," she breathed. "We're hidden."

Polk tried the car door. It wouldn't open. "We're also stuck."

She nodded over her shoulder. "Hello? We're in a station wagon!"

He turned around. Behind the back seats was the station wagon's hatch. It was shaded by the top of the culvert.

"Let's go," she said.

They crawled up the bank and along the drainage ditch, keeping low. They stopped when the abandoned store came into view. The yellow-brown cloud had materialized into a black ten-wheeler rig, roaring up the road towards them. Its trailer stretched back, also black, but strangely fuzzy in the heat shimmers. Aurora remembered it from the day before all this started. So, it hadn't been just a dream.

"Why are we running from a truck?" Polk muttered.

"That truck was in my dream."

"So, we're dreaming, now?" he asked.

That's a good question, thought Aurora. But I'd woken up from the dream that made me think that the general store wasn't an abandoned relic. Have I slipped back in? When had I? It's getting hard to tell what's real and what isn't.

"Let's just keep out of sight, okay?" she muttered.

The truck pulled up in front of the general store and cut its engines. The door opened, and a black figure eased out, taking the steps slowly, before jumping to the ground. He straightened up. Aurora recognized him from the diner -- and from her mother's dream three years ago. Black hair, black shirt, black pants, black boots. He sucked in the light around him. She could feel the pull from where she crouched.

The black figure turned sharply and scanned the distance all around. Aurora and Polk pulled their heads down and held their breath.

Then, with a crunch of gravel, the black figure strode into the general store. The screen door slammed shut behind him. Silence fell.

Aurora peered out from their hiding place. Polk pinched her arm. She gasped and slapped him in the back of the head. "Ow!"

He winced. "Ow! I was just trying to wake you."

"When I want your help, I'll ask for it! Now be quiet!"

A howl burst from the general store and rose until it made Aurora want to cover her ears. It cut off suddenly as the screen door opened and Salvadore came, half flying, half stumbling out. He staggered down the stairs, clutching his forehead from where Aurora had brained him, and ran face-first into the side of the black rig.

Salvadore turned as the screen door opened again. He stood by the rig, crouched, hands clasped, talking a mile a minute and keeping his head low. The black-clad figure grabbed him by the collar and manhandled him into the passenger side of the cab.

Then, striding around to the driver's side of the rig, the man climbed into the truck and slammed the door. The engine roared to life, and the black rig eased onto the road and picked up speed. Aurora and Polk pulled deeper into their hiding place as the rig topped the ridge, but it didn't stop. It passed, its edges blurred and fluttering. Peering up, Aurora realized that the whole trailer was nothing more than a flock of crows, keeping pace with the rig, and keeping the shape of the truck. Half a dozen plastic bags sailed past in its wake.

They crouched in hiding until the roar faded into the distance. The dust settled around them like hot, dry snow. When the only sound was the wind rustling the grasses around them, Aurora stood up and walked out. She stood in the centre of the roadway, staring at where the truck had gone.

Polk followed her, standing on the shoulder of the road, looking back and forth along its length. "Was that truck made of--"

"Yes."

"Are we dreaming?"

Aurora pinched her arm, winced, then pinched her arm again. Nothing happened. "I don't know." Engines sighed overhead and she looked up. High above them, a distant plane left a thin contrail across the cornflower-blue sky like a visitor from the land of normal. She looked down again. "I don't think so."

"Huh." Polk looked both ways along the roadway again. "Your dreams are chasing us."

"I know."

"They're between us and where we want to go."

"Yes."

He stuffed his hands in his denim jacket pockets. "So, what do we do?"

Aurora took several long, deep breaths. "We have to find another way to Saskatoon."

She looked out across the countryside. In the heat of the rising sun, the air started to shimmer.

(Fiction Special) The Dream King's Daughter Chapter Three: Past the Hundredth Meridian

This image of an abandoned farmhouse in the Rural Municipality of Mount Pleasant No. 2, Saskatchewan, is courtesy of Masterhatch and is used under their Creative Commons license.

In our last chapter, Aurora's attempts to explore her surroundings now that she has her memories back are complicated by another, more subtle attack against her. This escalates to a confrontation where Matron intervenes and sends the young woman off to Saskatoon while she holds off clouds of attacking crows. What's next for Aurora? Read on.

<Back to Chapter Two.

The Dream King's Daughter - Chapter Three: Past the Hundredth Meridian

The first dream that Aurora read belonged to her best friend, Anne.

It was at school, sixth grade, and Aurora was just hanging up her new spring jacket. Standing back to appreciate the dark denim, she bumped into Anne.

Anne caught her arm. "Hey! Watch it!" But not unkindly. "Nice jacket."

"Thanks!" Aurora beamed. "Mom bought it for me on the weekend. We went out to that new place out by the power centre. Isn't it cool?"

"Yeah, I saw you wearing it at the mall yesterday," said Anne.

"Oh," said Aurora. "Why didn't you say hello?"

"I was just heading out," said Anne quickly. She shrugged off her brown polyester coat and tossed it onto a hook. It flopped on the floor instead. Anne sighed and bent to pick it up.

As she placed it back on its hook, a slab of a boy shouldered her aside. He threw her ragged brown coat on the floor.

"Hey!" Anne shouted. She caught her breath when she saw who she was talking to. Aurora started forward, then froze. Roger had already won two fights that the teachers knew about, and more that they didn't. If that wasn't enough, Roger's friend and henchman, Jack, was right behind him.

Roger sneered. "Get your own hook." He hung his parka from the disputed hook with sausage-like fingers.

Anne's breathing quickened. "C'mon, there's a free hook right over there!" She reached for her coat.

Roger pushed her back. "Your trashy old Goodwill coat belongs in the garbage, anyway." He leered at them. "Unless you wanna make something of it."

There was an adult throat-clearing. Miss Daultry leaned in from the classroom. "Is there a problem here?"

Aurora opened her mouth, but Roger caught her eye. He and Jack stuck their hands in their pockets and stood, waiting.

Anne glared at the floor. "No, Miss Daultry. Everything's okay."

The teacher frowned over her glasses, then turned away. Grinning, Roger and Jack followed her out of the coatroom into the classroom. Anne thumped the wall.

"It's okay," said Aurora. "Share my hook."

Anne forced a smile. "Thanks," she said. And without meaning to, Aurora looked into her friend's brown eyes.

Anne snatches Aurora's denim jacket and runs across the classroom, laughing, impervious to Aurora's pleas. She flings it out the window into a lake that has materialized in place of the schoolyard.

Aurora shook her head and looked around. Her jacket was still on its hook, and the classroom windows were closed. Anne had turned away and was slinking out of the cloakroom to take her seat as Miss Daultry called the class to order.

"Aurora," Miss Daultry called. "Won't you grace us with your presence?"

The rest of the class giggled, but Aurora was too distracted to be embarrassed as she slouched out of the cloakroom to take her seat beside her friend.

Aurora read her second dream before recess. As the rest of the class filed out, Miss Daultry pulled her aside. "Is anything the matter, Aurora? You've been distracted all morning."

Aurora kept her gaze on the lower half of the teacher's face. "Nothing's wrong, Miss Daultry."

"You're sure?" Her teacher gave her an encouraging smile. "If anything is the matter, you can always talk to me."

Aurora looked into Miss Daultry's eyes.

Miss Daultry kicks back at her desk and pulls out a good book. Around her, the classroom stands empty, the windows white with snow. School is cancelled. No children today. Miss Daultry inspects a box of chocolates, picks one, and settles in to read.

Aurora dropped her gaze to the floor. "I'm sure. Nothing's the matter. Can I go?"

Miss Daultry's eyes narrowed a moment. Then she patted Aurora on the shoulder. "Okay. Get going."

At recess, Aurora played hide-and-seek and agreed to be 'it'. As the other kids ran away, Aurora hunted them down methodically, pouncing on each boy or girl and looking them in the eye. Dreams flooded her.

...I did it! I scored the winning goal!...

...I get to meet Santa! And they told me he wasn't real!...

Jack glared at Aurora. "What are you smiling at?"

"Nothing." Aurora moved on.

...Yes! I just punched Roger's face in!...

...No. The planes are back. The sirens are wailing. The bombs are falling again...

Albijana grimaced as Aurora stared at her for a moment too long. "Stop staring, Aurora! You're weird!" She pushed past Aurora and ran for home base.

Finally, at the end of the day, Aurora fumbled on her coat in the cloakroom, lost in thought.

"Hey," said Anne. Aurora jumped.

"You okay?" asked Anne as she yanked on her too-small, salt-stained, balding fur-lined boots. "You've been quiet all day."

"Why do you want to throw my coat into a lake?" said Aurora.

Anne froze. She looked up and laughed nervously. "What are you talking--"

Aurora looked into Anne's eyes.

Anne laughs. Aurora's denim jacket sails out the window and lands with a splash before sinking without a trace. Aurora sobs, standing in Anne's ratty clothes.

Aurora stepped back. "You're jealous!"

Anne gaped at her. "No-- what-- Aurora!"

"You want to grab my jacket and toss it into a lake. You hate that I have a new jacket, and you're in an old one!"

Anne gasped. "How did you--" Then her eyes flashed. "You read my diary!"

Aurora flinched. "I didn't! I--" She froze. How else could she explain how she knew? But she didn't feel like she should be the one to be ashamed, here. "It doesn't matter. You've been jealous the whole time we've been together, thinking all those things behind my back."

"You think I meant it?" Anne drew a shaky breath. "Yeah, sure, I wanted the things you had, but that didn't mean I didn't like you. It was just a dream. I still liked you. Until now! You traitor!"

Anne stormed out of the cloakroom. She came storming back to pick up her remaining boot and stormed out again. This time, she was choking back sobs.

Aurora watched her go, blinking back her own tears.

#

The rain stopped a few miles down the road, but black clouds loomed in the rear-view mirror. Aurora drove through the sunset and into the night. She passed a sign which said "SASKATOON: 390 KM". Soon, the only sound was the hum of the engine as her headlights turned the road into a small pool in the middle of a rolling void. More signposts appeared, slowly counting down the distance. Eventually, she ignored them and focused on the black ribbon ahead of her. She ignored the stars, ignored the horizon as it began to brighten. Finally, as she topped a hill and drove into sunshine, she had to blink.

She sobbed and hated herself for it.

Wiping her nose on her sleeve while still gripping the wheel, Aurora tried not to remember Matron standing with her gun raised as the feathery clouds descended. Crying was what little kids did. She was a teenager. On her own. In a car she could barely drive, fleeing from some monster who could attack in dreams and in the waking world at the same time. Heading southeast to Saskatoon to meet... who? There was no one she could turn to--

Someone breathed behind her. There was a crunch of vinyl. A hand clasped her shoulder. "Hey--"

Aurora screamed.

From the back seat, Polk screamed.

"What are you doing here?" Aurora shouted.

He looked past her, and his eyes widened. "Watch the road!"

She turned around, squeaked, and twisted the wheel. The car swerved, skidded on the edge of the ditch, then eased back onto the road. Aurora took a deep breath. "What are you doing here?" She grabbed a quick look back before facing the road ahead.

"I needed a nap," he said. "I snuck out to Matron's car, lay down and fell asleep. She never thinks to look for me here. Have I been asleep long?"

Aurora kept her eyes forward. Before them, on their left, the sun climbed further up the sky. "A while."

Polk squirmed over the top of the passenger seat and slithered down beside her. He gave her a goofy grin. Then he frowned. "Are you old enough to drive?"

"Give me a break! I'm almost sixteen! I've got a learner's permit."

Polk raised his eyebrows.

"Okay, I could get my learner's permit, if I'd spent the time to actually, you know, get one. But I'm old enough to drive!"

"Okay." Polk settled into his seat. He shielded his eyes against the sun, then folded down the sunshield. The grogginess in his gaze disappeared, as though a sudden cold wind had cleared his mind. He blinked into the sunshine. "Wait a minute. Is that... sunrise?"

"Yes."

"I slept the night?"

"Yes."

"Have we been driving all night?"

"Yes."

"Matron's back at the diner, right?"

Aurora choked, then swallowed. "Y-yes," she said at last. She didn't add, 'I hope so.'

Polk looked from her to the road ahead and back again.

"We've been driving all night?" he said again.

"Yes."

"Why were we driving all night?"

Aurora didn't answer.

"Does Matron know you took her car?"

She nodded.

"Aurora?"

"Yes?"

"What's going on?"

She thumped the wheel with her forehead. The car swerved. "Just shut up! Shut up! Shut the hell up!"

Polk clutched the armrest. He hurriedly did up his seat belt. "Aurora, calm down."

"Calm?" Aurora rounded on him. Polk cringed in his seat, but she didn't care. "Calm? How do you expect me to be calm? I saw the whole village disappear before my eyes! Crows talked to me! Then I found it was just a dream, but I woke up into a storm and the crows were still there and they attacked Matron! She could be dead for all we know, and you expect me to be calm? I can't be calm! I'm exhausted and scared and confused and I don't know what to do except drive! So that's what I'm doing! Okay?"

"Aurora," Polk said softly. "Stop the car."

"What?"

"Just... pull over and stop the car." He sounded ultra-calm. "Please?"

They pulled onto the shoulder. The car tilted, perched at the edge of the ditch. When they were stopped, Polk reached over and moved the gearshift to park. Aurora stared at the wheel.

Polk gripped the door handle, then turned to her. "Kill the engine. Let's stretch our legs."

"What for?"

He gave her a smile. "Trust me." He opened the door and slid out, disappearing into the ditch with a yelp. He popped up seconds later, grinned at her, and trudged to the back of the car.

Aurora made to kill the engine, then realized that she couldn't uncurl her fingers from the steering wheel. She pulled back hard until her fingers slipped from the vinyl and came away, curled into claws. She flattened them on her lap and flexed them, wincing as they cramped. She shook them to get some life back into them.

She turned off the ignition and left the car keys on the seat as she hauled herself outside. She came around back, to where Polk leaned against the trunk. They stood on the broken paved shoulder, grassy where it met the drainage ditch. Aurora stared out at the rippling fields. A chill wind, left over from the night, touched her cheeks and plucked at her hair.

Polk just stood there. She looked at him. "You waiting for something?"

He waved a hand at the fields of grass and flower stretching on forever. "Just take a minute. Breathe. Talk. Scream. Cry. Whatever comes to you. You'll know what to do. You just need to let it out. It's safer to do it out here instead of behind the wheel."

"When did you get all Zen?"

He gave her a teasing smile. "Hey, I have hidden depths."

She turned and walked away. Asphalt crunched as she trudged along the shoulder up a low rise. When she reached the top, she looked around. The fields dipped away, a sea of yellow-green waves breaking against posts and barbed wire fences. The wind made a sound like surf. Blackbirds tweedled, but there were no crows.

You know what to do, she thought. Just let it out.

She took a deep breath and howled.

Her voice rang in her ears, powered by all the rage and confusion and fear that had built up over the past day and a half. She screamed one long note that bent her over as the air left her lungs. The scream stopped. She straightened up, pulling in air, arching her back.

"Mom! Where are you?" she hollered. "How could you leave me like this? How could you?"

She hollered until she was bent almost double again, breathing heavily, her hands on her knees. Quiet again. The wind rushed through the tassels like waves on the ocean. The only other sound was Polk scuffing the pavement with his toe.

Aurora straightened up. Her cheeks were wet, but she wiped them dry on her sleeve and cleared her nose with a sniff. She stood a moment, drinking in the isolation, the endless blue sky, the yellow fields, and brought her breathing under control. Cleansing breath in. Stressed air out. Cleansing breath in. Hold it. Then let it out.

She set her jaw. There were no answers blowing in the wind. She was on her own, so she wasn't going to waste her time curled up in a ball and weeping.

She strode back to the car. Polk stood leaning on it. She leaned beside him and looked ahead. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. So, what's going on?"

She looked away in disgust. "You wouldn't believe me."

He grinned. "You have the car. You have the keys, and it's a long walk back to Matron's place. I don't think it would be wise for me to disbelieve you."

She just looked at him. His grin vanished. "What happened?"

Aurora's hands clenched into fists. She banged the trunk. How could she even begin to explain? But she had to tell someone.

"I--" She stopped, then started again. "I had a dream. I dreamt that we were working the diner like we always do, and the dinner crowd came in, but they started to disappear one by one. Everyone I knew in Cooper's Corners vanished, leaving me out in the open, all alone when -- something -- came for me."

He turned to her, his expression sympathetic. "That's a horrible nightmare, but--"

"Polk, I didn't dream that last night, or the night before. I dreamt it yesterday afternoon!"

"That's impossible."

"No. It happened. Polk, what did I do yesterday? Did I talk to you after the dinner crowd came in? What?"

"No." He shrugged. "You took orders, served them up. You were a little distant, though. Like you were sleepwalk--" He stopped and stared at her, eyes wide. "You're serious? You were asleep then?"

"Yes."

"You didn't spill a drop of coffee--"

"That's not important! Polk, it wasn't normal. Something attacked me. And in my dream, I walked out to the field behind the diner. That's when Matron found me and woke me up. Except when I woke up, the dream was still around me."

He straightened up. "What do you mean?"

"There was a storm in my dream," said Aurora. "And when I woke up, it was all around me. I saw twisting clouds, and I heard windows breaking."

"My God. Was everybody okay?"

"I don't know. Matron made me get in her car and go. She said the storm would follow me, and everybody else would be safe. Then the crows attacked her, and--"

The colour drained from Polk's face. "Is... she okay?"

Aurora drew a shaky breath. "I don't know."

They stood in silence on either side of the parked car, staring at each other. "This is silly," said Polk. "Running away because of some dream you had. If Matron's hurt, or if the town-- We should go back. It's not like the storm's actually following--"

A rumble echoed across the fields, like barrels rolling across a stage. Aurora and Polk looked north, back the way they'd come. The sky was still blue, but the horizon was dark, and growing darker.

They looked back at each other. The breeze plucked at their hair.

"So, where do we go?" said Polk at last.

"South," said Aurora.

"Why south?"

"That's the way the car's facing."

"Fair enough." Polk straightened up and came around to the driver's side. "Get in. My turn to drive."

Aurora leaned on the driver's side door. "I'm driving."

He pulled at the handle. "You're not legal."

She slapped his hand away. "I want to drive."

And she did, too, she realized. It was the one thing she could control in this world gone haywire. There was no way she was going to fidget in the passenger seat.

"Hey!" Polk slapped her hand back.

Aurora shoved him.

He staggered back, then came forward angrily. Aurora raised her fists.

Polk threw up his hands. "Fine! Just don't crash." He stomped around the car and pulled open the passenger door. Aurora allowed herself a small smile as she slipped behind the wheel.

"Matron gave me an address," she added as she started the engine. "Somebody in Saskatoon who could help me, she said. It's as good a place as any to run." The car drove off with a spray of gravel.

"Saskatoon," Polk murmured.

They passed a sign: SASKATOON, 300KM. Polk twisted in his seat to stare at it as it passed. He looked back at Aurora. "Something's wrong."

Aurora laughed. "You just figured that out?"

His expression didn't change. "Did you really drive all night?"

"Yeah."

"Did you stop at all?"

"No."

"Not even to go to the bathroom?"

"No."

"You tired?"

"No."

"You hungry?"

"No."

"You have to go to the bathroom?"

"... No."

"Look: did you, or did you not, drive away yesterday evening at top speed?"

Aurora flushed, thinking of how she'd abandoned Matron. "What are you getting at?"

"You picked the road to Saskatoon, right? You just drove straight?"

"Yes!" Her knuckles whitened on the wheel. "Polk--"

"Saskatchewan's big, but it's not that big, and we're not that far north. It's a five-hour drive, tops, between Cooper's Corners and Saskatoon. If you left soon after I went to sleep, and it's sunrise now, you're looking at, what, eight hours? Ten? You should be well on your way to Billings, Montana, by now."

"Polk, just be quiet and let me drive." New nerves twisted in her stomach. She didn't know how big Saskatchewan was. The lack of knowledge reminded her that she wasn't a local and that her years here had been a lie.

They passed another signpost: SASKATOON: 300KM

Aurora and Polk exchanged glances. They drove on in silence for a few minutes.

The next signpost read: SASKATOON: 300KM

Polk twisted to look at the sign as it passed. "Okay... were you... sleepdriving, maybe?"

"We're not driving in circles." Aurora scanned the dashboard.

"Except that I'd have to be sleepdriving too. How does that work?"

The next sign said: SASKATOON: 300KM

It's like in a dream, Aurora thought, where you kept running as fast as you could but didn't get anywhere. Very like a dream.

So, how do I wake myself up?

She glanced at her wrist, then gave it a quick pinch. She looked at the road ahead. Nothing happened. She pinched harder. She looked ahead. The sign appeared on the horizon again. Then she took a deep breath and put all of her strength into her thumb and forefinger.

"Ow!"

The world shuddered.

The car swerved. Where the road had been straight, now they were rushing headlong towards a curve. The sun was higher in the sky. They passed an abandoned farmhouse that they hadn't seen before.

"What the hell?" said Polk.

"We're out of the dream," said Aurora. "Uh... I think."

"How can you tell?"

Another sign appeared over the crest of a hill. Polk and Aurora held their breath.

SASKATOON: 290KM

"Okay," said Polk. "Let's find someplace to stop and get some breakfast."

"What?" Aurora gaped at him. "After all that, you want to stop?"

"Look, we can't just drive on without stopping. We need to eat. And if we don't want to stink up Matron's car, we'll need to use the bathroom."

"If you need to go to the bathroom so bad, you can go in the bushes. You can forget about food. I left my purse back at Matron's. There's no money."

"I got money."

She glanced at him. "How much?"

He looked up at the ceiling, calculating. "About a thousand dollars."

"What?!" The car swerved.

"Would you please get a handle on your reactions?" said Polk tightly. "I swear, someone says boo, and we'll end up upside-down in the ditch."

"Sorry," said Aurora crossly. "But, how--"

He shrugged. "It just sort of... accumulated. The nearest bank was fifty miles away, after all. Though I think we may have passed it sometime in the night."

She looked ahead. "I see."

"So, can we stop?"

"I said I wasn't hungry!"

"And I called you a liar. Besides, we have to stop: the empty tank alert just came on."

Aurora looked at the dashboard. A red gas tank icon shone back at her. She swore under her breath.

They passed a signpost for the next small town, but Aurora didn't catch its name.

#

Minutes later, they crested a hill and Aurora looked down on a settlement consisting of a single shuttered house and a general store. The store was built of wood and painted red. Gas pumps squatted on the gravel driveway. In the distance, a grain tower stood guarded by rail cars.

"Ah, civilization," Polk breathed.

"Huh," said Aurora. There was something about this that didn't feel right. But she caught sight of the low gas indicator again and applied the brakes. They coasted off the road and stopped in front of the gas pumps. They had dials for numbers instead of a digital display. Aurora wondered if she should look for a hand crank.

A tall, lanky figure unfolded himself from a battered wooden chair. He stood by the front door of the general store and watched without any sign of surprise as they pulled up. When Aurora cut the engine and got out, she took a good look at him.

He wore a dark brown suit jacket over a white T-shirt, khaki pants, and black leather shoes. His brown hair was thinning on top, and he had a small brown goatee. His moustache had been manicured into two brown lines below his nose, with curled-up ends. He gave them a thin-lipped smile, then threw his arms wide.

"Customers!" he cried. "Welcome to my store!"

Aurora stopped in her tracks. Nobody greeted customers this way unless they were desperate for business. And nobody was this desperate for business unless they hadn't had any for weeks if not years.

The store building looked sturdy but old. The paint had faded, and sun-bleached boxes and other bric-a-brac were stacked along the foundation. In the nearby fields, two dusty plastic bags rose and twisted over the barley, caught in an updraft.

Polk nodded at the store owner. "We're looking for gas and breakfast. Got either?"

"Both!" chimed the owner. "Come in! Fill up man and machine, why don't you?" He waved grandly at the front door.

Polk stepped forward, but Aurora caught his arm. "Is this guy for real?" she whispered.

"He doesn't have to be for real," Polk murmured. "He just has to know how to cook some steak and eggs. I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry."

"I'll pump. You order."

She nodded, then turned back to the store owner. "Thanks... uh..."

"Call me Salvadore." He beckoned from the threshold. "Come, let us not dally." A battered screen door slammed behind him.

Aurora followed him up the front steps. As she reached for the door, a noise made her freeze. It sounded like a baby rattle. She shrugged, yanked open the gap-riddled screen door, and entered.

The shop bell jangled. Aurora gagged, caught off guard by a sudden musty smell that washed over her. But when she looked around, the smell faded. The interior of the store shone clean and bright.

There were five aisles, numbered with signs that hung down from the ceiling. The shelves were loaded with gleaming cans and shiny plastic-wrapped packages. A display of red licorice glistened beside the cash register. Along one wall, near the entrance to the washrooms, was an ice cream stand and a soda jerk. There was a grill nearby, warm and freshly oiled, and Aurora was hit with a memory of Matron's diner. She swallowed the lump in her throat.

Sniffing the air again, all she could smell was fresh produce--apples, lettuce--and cleaning fluid. Lots of it.

"So, what shall I get you?" Salvadore tied a spotless white apron around his waist and stood behind the counter.

"Steak and eggs for Polk," said Aurora. "Sausage and eggs for me, please."

"How do you like your eggs?"

"Scrambled for Polk, mine, over easy. We'll have toast, too."

Salvadore got two sausage rounds and a small steak from the refrigerator and set them on the grill to sizzle. Then he grabbed four eggs, tossing each in the air before catching them and cracking them on the side of the grill.

Showy. Aurora rolled her eyes. Matron never showed off with the customers' meals. And he's put on the eggs too quickly. They'd be done and cooling well before the steak was ready. No wonder he's starved for customers.

As the food cooked, Salvadore turned to her. "And how about a drink? An ice cream soda, perhaps?"

Aurora had been about to order coffee, but a soda sounded good. "Yeah, sure."

"One for you and one for your boyfriend?"

"He's not my boyfriend."

"So, one soda or two?"

"One. Polk can order whatever he wants."

"One soda. Two straws?" Salvadore grinned at her and cast an eye out the front door where they'd left Polk with the gas.

She glanced out the screen door and saw Polk by the car. He had the pump handle in the car's gas tank and was puzzling over the unfamiliar levers.

She turned back to Salvadore. "Whatever," she said, deliberately.

Salvadore grabbed a frosted glass from the refrigerator. He began scooping out ice cream and added a dollop of syrup. "So, what brings you out here?"

Aurora looked at him without expression, but he kept smiling as he worked away. "Driving," she said at last.

"Where to?"

None of your business. "South."

He grinned at her. "Forgive me. I don't get many customers, these days, and it does a number on the art of conversation."

"So, where have all the customers gone?"

He jerked his shoulders in a shrug. "You know how it is."

"Not really."

"It's Saskatchewan, love! Not much reason to stay, unless you like the scenery."

"So, why do you stay?"

"I like the scenery. Besides, there's still business. You two turned up, after all."

She hadn't met a single car or truck since running away from Matron's diner.

He handed over a frosty glass. "There you go! One ice cream soda, two straws." He grinned that irritating grin again. He was worse than Polk.

Aurora took the ice cream soda. "Thanks." She put both straws in her mouth and sipped.

The flavour grabbed her right away. I must have been thirstier than I thought. She grunted appreciatively and sucked hard on the straws.

"I'm glad you like it," said Salvadore. "Soda making is a lost art. I figure somebody has to keep it up. So, where are you and your not-boyfriend from?"

Her straws gurgled as she finished the ice cream soda. She set the glass down and glared at his grin. "I have to go to the bathroom." She turned her back on him.

The bathroom was all shining tile. It smelt strongly of cleaning fluid. You'd think somebody was desperate to hide all evidence of what had happened here. She sniffed the air suspiciously before stepping into the bathroom stall.

A few minutes later, as Aurora grabbed some paper towels beside the sink to dry her hands, her eyes tracked up to a corkboard display of flyers advertising local dances and on-the-side home businesses. There was even a missing child poster, with a family photograph from happier times imploring the onlooker for information--

Aurora peered closer at the photograph. The wad of towels dropped to the floor. "Mom?!"

It was her mother, standing on the diving pier stretching out into Lake Winnipeg, wearing a swimsuit and holding a beach ball, grinning. Aurora remembered that grin. She remembered taking the photograph. What was it doing here?

Aurora's hand went to her mouth. "Mom!" She choked against the sudden rise of tears. When she looked at the photograph again, the picture showed a young girl beaming at the camera, holding a doll. She looked a bit like Britney.

Aurora rubbed her eyes and looked again, but the picture didn't change.

"This is just nuts," she muttered and turned to the mirror.

Her mother stood where her reflection should be.

Aurora stifled a shriek. Keeping her eyes on the mirror, she reached out behind her, but her hand met open air. She chanced a quick look over her shoulder, but she was alone in the bathroom. She looked back at the mirror, and her mother was still there, gripping the edge of the bathroom sink, staring at her, mouth agape.

Then Aurora realized she couldn't see her own reflection in the mirror. The bathroom her mother stood in had different tiles, and there was a shower.

And she was speaking to her. Shouting at her, but making no sound. Aurora could only read her mother's lips.

Aurora?

"Mom?"

What are you doing there? How did you--

She was talking faster, now. Aurora couldn't keep up.

"Mom, I can't hear you!" Aurora put her hands to her ears and then held them out, palms up.

Her mom kept shouting, but she shortened her sentences--Aurora could tell by the way her mouth put weight on every word. Aurora peered into the mirror.

Look. Out. In. Danger.

Aurora leaned back from the mirror. She turned to look at the bathroom door. When she turned back, her mother was gone.

She bit her lip and briefly touched the mirror. Then she turned and left the bathroom, stepping carefully back into the store.

She heard the sizzle of breakfast and Salvadore scraping the grill. Focusing on the front door, she strode quickly but quietly down an aisle of shelves filled with canned vegetables.

Salvadore suddenly stood in her way. "Where are you going?"

She backed up and started down a different grocery aisle, only to have Salvadore block her path again. Her mouth went dry. How is he doing that?

"I'm just going to see how Polk's doing," she said. Then she thought: that's a good question. Where is Polk? She looked out the screen door. The car was there, attached to the gas pump with a nozzle, but Polk was nowhere to be seen. "Polk?" she shouted.

"I'm sure he'll be in presently," said Salvadore. "Have a seat; breakfast is almost ready."

"I want to stretch my legs."

Aurora tried to sidle to the left, only to have Salvadore mimic her. Her heart thumped. She had been stupid. Lulled into a false sense of security. Something had been telling her that something was wrong, but she had never realized what...

Then she realized. The sausages and eggs were sizzling on the grill, but she couldn't smell them. She could only smell cleaning fluid, and under that a hint of mildew.

Salvadore caught her frown and sniffed the air. "Hmm..."

Something rustled in his hair. Something crawled up the back of his shirt. Two spiders emerged, big as the palm of her hand. They stood on Salvadore's head and shoulder, looking at her.

A slow smile spread across his face. "Oops."

Aurora scrambled backwards and looked around wildly for a way to escape. He was between her and the door, but if she could run to one of the other aisles...

But as she turned, the world tilted beneath her feet. She grabbed one of the shelves, sending cans clattering across the floor. Her stomach lurched, and spots glittered before her eyes. She tried to haul herself upright, but nausea pushed down on her like an open hand. She turned towards the back but tripped over her own feet and fell. Salvadore caught her under the armpits.

"Most kidnappers don't think to do this." He nodded at the soda glass on the counter. "Always drug your target early. That way, they don't have time to become suspicious."

Aurora opened her mouth to say something furious, but all that came out was a gurgle. She shoved herself away, staggered, and fell into a display case. Cans rolled everywhere.

Salvadore kicked the cans aside. Gripping her shoulders, he pulled her into a sitting position and checked her over. She couldn't even hold up her head.

His goatee and smile filled her vision. "You'll live. Just take a rest; that's a good girl. Someone very important wants to talk to you."

Her vision went black.

(Fiction Special) The Dream King's Daughter - Chapter Three: Past the Hundredth Meridian

This image of an abandoned farmhouse in the Rural Municipality of Mount Pleasant No. 2, Saskatchewan, is courtesy of Masterhatch and is used under their Creative Commons license.

In our last chapter, Aurora's attempts to explore her surroundings now that she has her memories back are complicated by another, more subtle attack against her. This escalates to a confrontation where Matron intervenes and sends the young woman off to Saskatoon while she holds off clouds of attacking crows. What's next for Aurora? Read on.

<Back to Chapter Two.

The Dream King's Daughter - Chapter Three: Past the Hundredth Meridian

The first dream that Aurora read belonged to her best friend, Anne.

It was at school, sixth grade, and Aurora was just hanging up her new spring jacket. Standing back to appreciate the dark denim, she bumped into Anne.

Anne caught her arm. "Hey! Watch it!" But not unkindly. "Nice jacket."

"Thanks!" Aurora beamed. "Mom bought it for me on the weekend. We went out to that new place out by the power centre. Isn't it cool?"

"Yeah, I saw you wearing it at the mall yesterday," said Anne.

"Oh," said Aurora. "Why didn't you say hello?"

"I was just heading out," said Anne quickly. She shrugged off her brown polyester coat and tossed it onto a hook. It flopped on the floor instead. Anne sighed and bent to pick it up.

As she placed it back on its hook, a slab of a boy shouldered her aside. He threw her ragged brown coat on the floor.

"Hey!" Anne shouted. She caught her breath when she saw who she was talking to. Aurora started forward, then froze. Roger had already won two fights that the teachers knew about, and more that they didn't. If that wasn't enough, Roger's friend and henchman, Jack, was right behind him.

Roger sneered. "Get your own hook." He hung his parka from the disputed hook with sausage-like fingers.

Anne's breathing quickened. "C'mon, there's a free hook right over there!" She reached for her coat.

Roger pushed her back. "Your trashy old Goodwill coat belongs in the garbage, anyway." He leered at them. "Unless you wanna make something of it."

There was an adult throat-clearing. Miss Daultry leaned in from the classroom. "Is there a problem here?"

Aurora opened her mouth, but Roger caught her eye. He and Jack stuck their hands in their pockets and stood, waiting.

Anne glared at the floor. "No, Miss Daultry. Everything's okay."

The teacher frowned over her glasses, then turned away. Grinning, Roger and Jack followed her out of the coatroom into the classroom. Anne thumped the wall.

"It's okay," said Aurora. "Share my hook."

Anne forced a smile. "Thanks," she said. And without meaning to, Aurora looked into her friend's brown eyes.

Anne snatches Aurora's denim jacket and runs across the classroom, laughing, impervious to Aurora's pleas. She flings it out the window into a lake that has materialized in place of the schoolyard.

Aurora shook her head and looked around. Her jacket was still on its hook, and the classroom windows were closed. Anne had turned away and was slinking out of the cloakroom to take her seat as Miss Daultry called the class to order.

"Aurora," Miss Daultry called. "Won't you grace us with your presence?"

The rest of the class giggled, but Aurora was too distracted to be embarrassed as she slouched out of the cloakroom to take her seat beside her friend.

Aurora read her second dream before recess. As the rest of the class filed out, Miss Daultry pulled her aside. "Is anything the matter, Aurora? You've been distracted all morning."

Aurora kept her gaze on the lower half of the teacher's face. "Nothing's wrong, Miss Daultry."

"You're sure?" Her teacher gave her an encouraging smile. "If anything is the matter, you can always talk to me."

Aurora looked into Miss Daultry's eyes.

Miss Daultry kicks back at her desk and pulls out a good book. Around her, the classroom stands empty, the windows white with snow. School is cancelled. No children today. Miss Daultry inspects a box of chocolates, picks one, and settles in to read.

Aurora dropped her gaze to the floor. "I'm sure. Nothing's the matter. Can I go?"

Miss Daultry's eyes narrowed a moment. Then she patted Aurora on the shoulder. "Okay. Get going."

At recess, Aurora played hide-and-seek and agreed to be 'it'. As the other kids ran away, Aurora hunted them down methodically, pouncing on each boy or girl and looking them in the eye. Dreams flooded her.

...I did it! I scored the winning goal!...

...I get to meet Santa! And they told me he wasn't real!...

Jack glared at Aurora. "What are you smiling at?"

"Nothing." Aurora moved on.

...Yes! I just punched Roger's face in!...

...No. The planes are back. The sirens are wailing. The bombs are falling again...

Albijana grimaced as Aurora stared at her for a moment too long. "Stop staring, Aurora! You're weird!" She pushed past Aurora and ran for home base.

Finally, at the end of the day, Aurora fumbled on her coat in the cloakroom, lost in thought.

"Hey," said Anne. Aurora jumped.

"You okay?" asked Anne as she yanked on her too-small, salt-stained, balding fur-lined boots. "You've been quiet all day."

"Why do you want to throw my coat into a lake?" said Aurora.

Anne froze. She looked up and laughed nervously. "What are you talking--"

Aurora looked into Anne's eyes.

Anne laughs. Aurora's denim jacket sails out the window and lands with a splash before sinking without a trace. Aurora sobs, standing in Anne's ratty clothes.

Aurora stepped back. "You're jealous!"

Anne gaped at her. "No-- what-- Aurora!"

"You want to grab my jacket and toss it into a lake. You hate that I have a new jacket, and you're in an old one!"

Anne gasped. "How did you--" Then her eyes flashed. "You read my diary!"

Aurora flinched. "I didn't! I--" She froze. How else could she explain how she knew? But she didn't feel like she should be the one to be ashamed, here. "It doesn't matter. You've been jealous the whole time we've been together, thinking all those things behind my back."

"You think I meant it?" Anne drew a shaky breath. "Yeah, sure, I wanted the things you had, but that didn't mean I didn't like you. It was just a dream. I still liked you. Until now! You traitor!"

Anne stormed out of the cloakroom. She came storming back to pick up her remaining boot and stormed out again. This time, she was choking back sobs.

Aurora watched her go, blinking back her own tears.

#

The rain stopped a few miles down the road, but black clouds loomed in the rear-view mirror. Aurora drove through the sunset and into the night. She passed a sign which said "SASKATOON: 390 KM". Soon, the only sound was the hum of the engine as her headlights turned the road into a small pool in the middle of a rolling void. More signposts appeared, slowly counting down the distance. Eventually, she ignored them and focused on the black ribbon ahead of her. She ignored the stars, ignored the horizon as it began to brighten. Finally, as she topped a hill and drove into sunshine, she had to blink.

She sobbed and hated herself for it.

Wiping her nose on her sleeve while still gripping the wheel, Aurora tried not to remember Matron standing with her gun raised as the feathery clouds descended. Crying was what little kids did. She was a teenager. On her own. In a car she could barely drive, fleeing from some monster who could attack in dreams and in the waking world at the same time. Heading southeast to Saskatoon to meet... who? There was no one she could turn to--

Someone breathed behind her. There was a crunch of vinyl. A hand clasped her shoulder. "Hey--"

Aurora screamed.

From the back seat, Polk screamed.

"What are you doing here?" Aurora shouted.

He looked past her, and his eyes widened. "Watch the road!"

She turned around, squeaked, and twisted the wheel. The car swerved, skidded on the edge of the ditch, then eased back onto the road. Aurora took a deep breath. "What are you doing here?" She grabbed a quick look back before facing the road ahead.

"I needed a nap," he said. "I snuck out to Matron's car, lay down and fell asleep. She never thinks to look for me here. Have I been asleep long?"

Aurora kept her eyes forward. Before them, on their left, the sun climbed further up the sky. "A while."

Polk squirmed over the top of the passenger seat and slithered down beside her. He gave her a goofy grin. Then he frowned. "Are you old enough to drive?"

"Give me a break! I'm almost sixteen! I've got a learner's permit."

Polk raised his eyebrows.

"Okay, I could get my learner's permit, if I'd spent the time to actually, you know, get one. But I'm old enough to drive!"

"Okay." Polk settled into his seat. He shielded his eyes against the sun, then folded down the sunshield. The grogginess in his gaze disappeared, as though a sudden cold wind had cleared his mind. He blinked into the sunshine. "Wait a minute. Is that... sunrise?"

"Yes."

"I slept the night?"

"Yes."

"Have we been driving all night?"

"Yes."

"Matron's back at the diner, right?"

Aurora choked, then swallowed. "Y-yes," she said at last. She didn't add, 'I hope so.'

Polk looked from her to the road ahead and back again.

"We've been driving all night?" he said again.

"Yes."

"Why were we driving all night?"

Aurora didn't answer.

"Does Matron know you took her car?"

She nodded.

"Aurora?"

"Yes?"

"What's going on?"

She thumped the wheel with her forehead. The car swerved. "Just shut up! Shut up! Shut the hell up!"

Polk clutched the armrest. He hurriedly did up his seat belt. "Aurora, calm down."

"Calm?" Aurora rounded on him. Polk cringed in his seat, but she didn't care. "Calm? How do you expect me to be calm? I saw the whole village disappear before my eyes! Crows talked to me! Then I found it was just a dream, but I woke up into a storm and the crows were still there and they attacked Matron! She could be dead for all we know, and you expect me to be calm? I can't be calm! I'm exhausted and scared and confused and I don't know what to do except drive! So that's what I'm doing! Okay?"

"Aurora," Polk said softly. "Stop the car."

"What?"

"Just... pull over and stop the car." He sounded ultra-calm. "Please?"

They pulled onto the shoulder. The car tilted, perched at the edge of the ditch. When they were stopped, Polk reached over and moved the gearshift to park. Aurora stared at the wheel.

Polk gripped the door handle, then turned to her. "Kill the engine. Let's stretch our legs."

"What for?"

He gave her a smile. "Trust me." He opened the door and slid out, disappearing into the ditch with a yelp. He popped up seconds later, grinned at her, and trudged to the back of the car.

Aurora made to kill the engine, then realized that she couldn't uncurl her fingers from the steering wheel. She pulled back hard until her fingers slipped from the vinyl and came away, curled into claws. She flattened them on her lap and flexed them, wincing as they cramped. She shook them to get some life back into them.

She turned off the ignition and left the car keys on the seat as she hauled herself outside. She came around back, to where Polk leaned against the trunk. They stood on the broken paved shoulder, grassy where it met the drainage ditch. Aurora stared out at the rippling fields. A chill wind, left over from the night, touched her cheeks and plucked at her hair.

Polk just stood there. She looked at him. "You waiting for something?"

He waved a hand at the fields of grass and flower stretching on forever. "Just take a minute. Breathe. Talk. Scream. Cry. Whatever comes to you. You'll know what to do. You just need to let it out. It's safer to do it out here instead of behind the wheel."

"When did you get all Zen?"

He gave her a teasing smile. "Hey, I have hidden depths."

She turned and walked away. Asphalt crunched as she trudged along the shoulder up a low rise. When she reached the top, she looked around. The fields dipped away, a sea of yellow-green waves breaking against posts and barbed wire fences. The wind made a sound like surf. Blackbirds tweedled, but there were no crows.

You know what to do, she thought. Just let it out.

She took a deep breath and howled.

Her voice rang in her ears, powered by all the rage and confusion and fear that had built up over the past day and a half. She screamed one long note that bent her over as the air left her lungs. The scream stopped. She straightened up, pulling in air, arching her back.

"Mom! Where are you?" she hollered. "How could you leave me like this? How could you?"

She hollered until she was bent almost double again, breathing heavily, her hands on her knees. Quiet again. The wind rushed through the tassels like waves on the ocean. The only other sound was Polk scuffing the pavement with his toe.

Aurora straightened up. Her cheeks were wet, but she wiped them dry on her sleeve and cleared her nose with a sniff. She stood a moment, drinking in the isolation, the endless blue sky, the yellow fields, and brought her breathing under control. Cleansing breath in. Stressed air out. Cleansing breath in. Hold it. Then let it out.

She set her jaw. There were no answers blowing in the wind. She was on her own, so she wasn't going to waste her time curled up in a ball and weeping.

She strode back to the car. Polk stood leaning on it. She leaned beside him and looked ahead. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. So, what's going on?"

She looked away in disgust. "You wouldn't believe me."

He grinned. "You have the car. You have the keys, and it's a long walk back to Matron's place. I don't think it would be wise for me to disbelieve you."

She just looked at him. His grin vanished. "What happened?"

Aurora's hands clenched into fists. She banged the trunk. How could she even begin to explain? But she had to tell someone.

"I--" She stopped, then started again. "I had a dream. I dreamt that we were working the diner like we always do, and the dinner crowd came in, but they started to disappear one by one. Everyone I knew in Cooper's Corners vanished, leaving me out in the open, all alone when -- something -- came for me."

He turned to her, his expression sympathetic. "That's a horrible nightmare, but--"

"Polk, I didn't dream that last night, or the night before. I dreamt it yesterday afternoon!"

"That's impossible."

"No. It happened. Polk, what did I do yesterday? Did I talk to you after the dinner crowd came in? What?"

"No." He shrugged. "You took orders, served them up. You were a little distant, though. Like you were sleepwalk--" He stopped and stared at her, eyes wide. "You're serious? You were asleep then?"

"Yes."

"You didn't spill a drop of coffee--"

"That's not important! Polk, it wasn't normal. Something attacked me. And in my dream, I walked out to the field behind the diner. That's when Matron found me and woke me up. Except when I woke up, the dream was still around me."

He straightened up. "What do you mean?"

"There was a storm in my dream," said Aurora. "And when I woke up, it was all around me. I saw twisting clouds, and I heard windows breaking."

"My God. Was everybody okay?"

"I don't know. Matron made me get in her car and go. She said the storm would follow me, and everybody else would be safe. Then the crows attacked her, and--"

The colour drained from Polk's face. "Is... she okay?"

Aurora drew a shaky breath. "I don't know."

They stood in silence on either side of the parked car, staring at each other. "This is silly," said Polk. "Running away because of some dream you had. If Matron's hurt, or if the town-- We should go back. It's not like the storm's actually following--"

A rumble echoed across the fields, like barrels rolling across a stage. Aurora and Polk looked north, back the way they'd come. The sky was still blue, but the horizon was dark, and growing darker.

They looked back at each other. The breeze plucked at their hair.

"So, where do we go?" said Polk at last.

"South," said Aurora.

"Why south?"

"That's the way the car's facing."

"Fair enough." Polk straightened up and came around to the driver's side. "Get in. My turn to drive."

Aurora leaned on the driver's side door. "I'm driving."

He pulled at the handle. "You're not legal."

She slapped his hand away. "I want to drive."

And she did, too, she realized. It was the one thing she could control in this world gone haywire. There was no way she was going to fidget in the passenger seat.

"Hey!" Polk slapped her hand back.

Aurora shoved him.

He staggered back, then came forward angrily. Aurora raised her fists.

Polk threw up his hands. "Fine! Just don't crash." He stomped around the car and pulled open the passenger door. Aurora allowed herself a small smile as she slipped behind the wheel.

"Matron gave me an address," she added as she started the engine. "Somebody in Saskatoon who could help me, she said. It's as good a place as any to run." The car drove off with a spray of gravel.

"Saskatoon," Polk murmured.

They passed a sign: SASKATOON, 300KM. Polk twisted in his seat to stare at it as it passed. He looked back at Aurora. "Something's wrong."

Aurora laughed. "You just figured that out?"

His expression didn't change. "Did you really drive all night?"

"Yeah."

"Did you stop at all?"

"No."

"Not even to go to the bathroom?"

"No."

"You tired?"

"No."

"You hungry?"

"No."

"You have to go to the bathroom?"

"... No."

"Look: did you, or did you not, drive away yesterday evening at top speed?"

Aurora flushed, thinking of how she'd abandoned Matron. "What are you getting at?"

"You picked the road to Saskatoon, right? You just drove straight?"

"Yes!" Her knuckles whitened on the wheel. "Polk--"

"Saskatchewan's big, but it's not that big, and we're not that far north. It's a five-hour drive, tops, between Cooper's Corners and Saskatoon. If you left soon after I went to sleep, and it's sunrise now, you're looking at, what, eight hours? Ten? You should be well on your way to Billings, Montana, by now."

"Polk, just be quiet and let me drive." New nerves twisted in her stomach. She didn't know how big Saskatchewan was. The lack of knowledge reminded her that she wasn't a local and that her years here had been a lie.

They passed another signpost: SASKATOON: 300KM

Aurora and Polk exchanged glances. They drove on in silence for a few minutes.

The next signpost read: SASKATOON: 300KM

Polk twisted to look at the sign as it passed. "Okay... were you... sleepdriving, maybe?"

"We're not driving in circles." Aurora scanned the dashboard.

"Except that I'd have to be sleepdriving too. How does that work?"

The next sign said: SASKATOON: 300KM

It's like in a dream, Aurora thought, where you kept running as fast as you could but didn't get anywhere. Very like a dream.

So, how do I wake myself up?

She glanced at her wrist, then gave it a quick pinch. She looked at the road ahead. Nothing happened. She pinched harder. She looked ahead. The sign appeared on the horizon again. Then she took a deep breath and put all of her strength into her thumb and forefinger.

"Ow!"

The world shuddered.

The car swerved. Where the road had been straight, now they were rushing headlong towards a curve. The sun was higher in the sky. They passed an abandoned farmhouse that they hadn't seen before.

"What the hell?" said Polk.

"We're out of the dream," said Aurora. "Uh... I think."

"How can you tell?"

Another sign appeared over the crest of a hill. Polk and Aurora held their breath.

SASKATOON: 290KM

"Okay," said Polk. "Let's find someplace to stop and get some breakfast."

"What?" Aurora gaped at him. "After all that, you want to stop?"

"Look, we can't just drive on without stopping. We need to eat. And if we don't want to stink up Matron's car, we'll need to use the bathroom."

"If you need to go to the bathroom so bad, you can go in the bushes. You can forget about food. I left my purse back at Matron's. There's no money."

"I got money."

She glanced at him. "How much?"

He looked up at the ceiling, calculating. "About a thousand dollars."

"What?!" The car swerved.

"Would you please get a handle on your reactions?" said Polk tightly. "I swear, someone says boo, and we'll end up upside-down in the ditch."

"Sorry," said Aurora crossly. "But, how--"

He shrugged. "It just sort of... accumulated. The nearest bank was fifty miles away, after all. Though I think we may have passed it sometime in the night."

She looked ahead. "I see."

"So, can we stop?"

"I said I wasn't hungry!"

"And I called you a liar. Besides, we have to stop: the empty tank alert just came on."

Aurora looked at the dashboard. A red gas tank icon shone back at her. She swore under her breath.

They passed a signpost for the next small town, but Aurora didn't catch its name.

#

Minutes later, they crested a hill and Aurora looked down on a settlement consisting of a single shuttered house and a general store. The store was built of wood and painted red. Gas pumps squatted on the gravel driveway. In the distance, a grain tower stood guarded by rail cars.

"Ah, civilization," Polk breathed.

"Huh," said Aurora. There was something about this that didn't feel right. But she caught sight of the low gas indicator again and applied the brakes. They coasted off the road and stopped in front of the gas pumps. They had dials for numbers instead of a digital display. Aurora wondered if she should look for a hand crank.

A tall, lanky figure unfolded himself from a battered wooden chair. He stood by the front door of the general store and watched without any sign of surprise as they pulled up. When Aurora cut the engine and got out, she took a good look at him.

He wore a dark brown suit jacket over a white T-shirt, khaki pants, and black leather shoes. His brown hair was thinning on top, and he had a small brown goatee. His moustache had been manicured into two brown lines below his nose, with curled-up ends. He gave them a thin-lipped smile, then threw his arms wide.

"Customers!" he cried. "Welcome to my store!"

Aurora stopped in her tracks. Nobody greeted customers this way unless they were desperate for business. And nobody was this desperate for business unless they hadn't had any for weeks if not years.

The store building looked sturdy but old. The paint had faded, and sun-bleached boxes and other bric-a-brac were stacked along the foundation. In the nearby fields, two dusty plastic bags rose and twisted over the barley, caught in an updraft.

Polk nodded at the store owner. "We're looking for gas and breakfast. Got either?"

"Both!" chimed the owner. "Come in! Fill up man and machine, why don't you?" He waved grandly at the front door.

Polk stepped forward, but Aurora caught his arm. "Is this guy for real?" she whispered.

"He doesn't have to be for real," Polk murmured. "He just has to know how to cook some steak and eggs. I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry."

"I'll pump. You order."

She nodded, then turned back to the store owner. "Thanks... uh..."

"Call me Salvadore." He beckoned from the threshold. "Come, let us not dally." A battered screen door slammed behind him.

Aurora followed him up the front steps. As she reached for the door, a noise made her freeze. It sounded like a baby rattle. She shrugged, yanked open the gap-riddled screen door, and entered.

The shop bell jangled. Aurora gagged, caught off guard by a sudden musty smell that washed over her. But when she looked around, the smell faded. The interior of the store shone clean and bright.

There were five aisles, numbered with signs that hung down from the ceiling. The shelves were loaded with gleaming cans and shiny plastic-wrapped packages. A display of red licorice glistened beside the cash register. Along one wall, near the entrance to the washrooms, was an ice cream stand and a soda jerk. There was a grill nearby, warm and freshly oiled, and Aurora was hit with a memory of Matron's diner. She swallowed the lump in her throat.

Sniffing the air again, all she could smell was fresh produce--apples, lettuce--and cleaning fluid. Lots of it.

"So, what shall I get you?" Salvadore tied a spotless white apron around his waist and stood behind the counter.

"Steak and eggs for Polk," said Aurora. "Sausage and eggs for me, please."

"How do you like your eggs?"

"Scrambled for Polk, mine, over easy. We'll have toast, too."

Salvadore got two sausage rounds and a small steak from the refrigerator and set them on the grill to sizzle. Then he grabbed four eggs, tossing each in the air before catching them and cracking them on the side of the grill.

Showy. Aurora rolled her eyes. Matron never showed off with the customers' meals. And he's put on the eggs too quickly. They'd be done and cooling well before the steak was ready. No wonder he's starved for customers.

As the food cooked, Salvadore turned to her. "And how about a drink? An ice cream soda, perhaps?"

Aurora had been about to order coffee, but a soda sounded good. "Yeah, sure."

"One for you and one for your boyfriend?"

"He's not my boyfriend."

"So, one soda or two?"

"One. Polk can order whatever he wants."

"One soda. Two straws?" Salvadore grinned at her and cast an eye out the front door where they'd left Polk with the gas.

She glanced out the screen door and saw Polk by the car. He had the pump handle in the car's gas tank and was puzzling over the unfamiliar levers.

She turned back to Salvadore. "Whatever," she said, deliberately.

Salvadore grabbed a frosted glass from the refrigerator. He began scooping out ice cream and added a dollop of syrup. "So, what brings you out here?"

Aurora looked at him without expression, but he kept smiling as he worked away. "Driving," she said at last.

"Where to?"

None of your business. "South."

He grinned at her. "Forgive me. I don't get many customers, these days, and it does a number on the art of conversation."

"So, where have all the customers gone?"

He jerked his shoulders in a shrug. "You know how it is."

"Not really."

"It's Saskatchewan, love! Not much reason to stay, unless you like the scenery."

"So, why do you stay?"

"I like the scenery. Besides, there's still business. You two turned up, after all."

She hadn't met a single car or truck since running away from Matron's diner.

He handed over a frosty glass. "There you go! One ice cream soda, two straws." He grinned that irritating grin again. He was worse than Polk.

Aurora took the ice cream soda. "Thanks." She put both straws in her mouth and sipped.

The flavour grabbed her right away. I must have been thirstier than I thought. She grunted appreciatively and sucked hard on the straws.

"I'm glad you like it," said Salvadore. "Soda making is a lost art. I figure somebody has to keep it up. So, where are you and your not-boyfriend from?"

Her straws gurgled as she finished the ice cream soda. She set the glass down and glared at his grin. "I have to go to the bathroom." She turned her back on him.

The bathroom was all shining tile. It smelt strongly of cleaning fluid. You'd think somebody was desperate to hide all evidence of what had happened here. She sniffed the air suspiciously before stepping into the bathroom stall.

A few minutes later, as Aurora grabbed some paper towels beside the sink to dry her hands, her eyes tracked up to a corkboard display of flyers advertising local dances and on-the-side home businesses. There was even a missing child poster, with a family photograph from happier times imploring the onlooker for information--

Aurora peered closer at the photograph. The wad of towels dropped to the floor. "Mom?!"

It was her mother, standing on the diving pier stretching out into Lake Winnipeg, wearing a swimsuit and holding a beach ball, grinning. Aurora remembered that grin. She remembered taking the photograph. What was it doing here?

Aurora's hand went to her mouth. "Mom!" She choked against the sudden rise of tears. When she looked at the photograph again, the picture showed a young girl beaming at the camera, holding a doll. She looked a bit like Britney.

Aurora rubbed her eyes and looked again, but the picture didn't change.

"This is just nuts," she muttered and turned to the mirror.

Her mother stood where her reflection should be.

Aurora stifled a shriek. Keeping her eyes on the mirror, she reached out behind her, but her hand met open air. She chanced a quick look over her shoulder, but she was alone in the bathroom. She looked back at the mirror, and her mother was still there, gripping the edge of the bathroom sink, staring at her, mouth agape.

Then Aurora realized she couldn't see her own reflection in the mirror. The bathroom her mother stood in had different tiles, and there was a shower.

And she was speaking to her. Shouting at her, but making no sound. Aurora could only read her mother's lips.

Aurora?

"Mom?"

What are you doing there? How did you--

She was talking faster, now. Aurora couldn't keep up.

"Mom, I can't hear you!" Aurora put her hands to her ears and then held them out, palms up.

Her mom kept shouting, but she shortened her sentences--Aurora could tell by the way her mouth put weight on every word. Aurora peered into the mirror.

Look. Out. In. Danger.

Aurora leaned back from the mirror. She turned to look at the bathroom door. When she turned back, her mother was gone.

She bit her lip and briefly touched the mirror. Then she turned and left the bathroom, stepping carefully back into the store.

She heard the sizzle of breakfast and Salvadore scraping the grill. Focusing on the front door, she strode quickly but quietly down an aisle of shelves filled with canned vegetables.

Salvadore suddenly stood in her way. "Where are you going?"

She backed up and started down a different grocery aisle, only to have Salvadore block her path again. Her mouth went dry. How is he doing that?

"I'm just going to see how Polk's doing," she said. Then she thought: that's a good question. Where is Polk? She looked out the screen door. The car was there, attached to the gas pump with a nozzle, but Polk was nowhere to be seen. "Polk?" she shouted.

"I'm sure he'll be in presently," said Salvadore. "Have a seat; breakfast is almost ready."

"I want to stretch my legs."

Aurora tried to sidle to the left, only to have Salvadore mimic her. Her heart thumped. She had been stupid. Lulled into a false sense of security. Something had been telling her that something was wrong, but she had never realized what...

Then she realized. The sausages and eggs were sizzling on the grill, but she couldn't smell them. She could only smell cleaning fluid, and under that a hint of mildew.

Salvadore caught her frown and sniffed the air. "Hmm..."

Something rustled in his hair. Something crawled up the back of his shirt. Two spiders emerged, big as the palm of her hand. They stood on Salvadore's head and shoulder, looking at her.

A slow smile spread across his face. "Oops."

Aurora scrambled backwards and looked around wildly for a way to escape. He was between her and the door, but if she could run to one of the other aisles...

But as she turned, the world tilted beneath her feet. She grabbed one of the shelves, sending cans clattering across the floor. Her stomach lurched, and spots glittered before her eyes. She tried to haul herself upright, but nausea pushed down on her like an open hand. She turned towards the back but tripped over her own feet and fell. Salvadore caught her under the armpits.

"Most kidnappers don't think to do this." He nodded at the soda glass on the counter. "Always drug your target early. That way, they don't have time to become suspicious."

Aurora opened her mouth to say something furious, but all that came out was a gurgle. She shoved herself away, staggered, and fell into a display case. Cans rolled everywhere.

Salvadore kicked the cans aside. Gripping her shoulders, he pulled her into a sitting position and checked her over. She couldn't even hold up her head.

His goatee and smile filled her vision. "You'll live. Just take a rest; that's a good girl. Someone very important wants to talk to you."

Her vision went black.