Near Crow’s legs, Fifer piled up small, flat stones, one on top of another in a precarious stack, using extreme precision for a child her age. Thisbe stood on the other side of Crow, entranced as she watched the magical warriors on the lawn. Every now and then she imitated their movements, saying “Dat!” or “Boom!” and casting imaginary spells of her own.
“Hey, Crow,” Kaylee called. “Who’s the dude with the righteous Afro?”
“The what?” asked Crow. Half the things Kaylee said made no sense to him.
“The boy next to Scarlet.”
“Oh. That’s Thatcher. He’s one of the Warbler kids.”
“I figured, due to the orange eyes and the scars on his neck.”
“I forget about those things sometimes,” Crow said. Orange eyes and neck scars were all too common to him.
“He’s really good,” Kaylee said.
Crow bristled. “Scarlet’s better,” he said in a quiet voice. He returned his gaze to Warbler girl.
Kaylee looked sideways at him and pressed her lips together to stifle a smile. “Yes, I totally agree,” she said. “Scarlet rocks.” She poked Aaron with her elbow.
Aaron startled. “What?”
Kaylee leaned in, her shoulder touching Aaron’s shoulder and her face dangerously close to his. He resisted the urge to shrink away, and she whispered in his ear, “Crow has a crush on Scarlet.”
Her breath was warm as it caressed his skin and slipped down below his shirt collar. Aaron’s ear tingled, and then his whole body tingled. His heart thudded in his chest. He didn’t even register what she was saying. Instead of responding like a normal human, Aaron froze. He stared straight ahead and didn’t move. He had no idea what to do. All he knew was that her shoulder was still touching his, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted it to stay there or move away.
With Crow, Aaron, and Kaylee all momentarily occupied, and Sky reading intently under the tree, nobody actually paid much attention when Thisbe meandered over to where her sister was stacking stones. Thisbe took a warrior stance and pointed at the tower. “Boom!” she said.
The stones flew into the air of their own accord and pelted the sand around Fifer. Fifer stared, and then the twin girls began giggling hysterically. “Again!” cried Fifer.
“Again!” cried Thisbe.
Fifer began to pile the stones once more.
Contemplating Flight
Alex woke around noon feeling groggy and disoriented after having stayed up all night with Pan, but once he bathed and dressed, he was wide awake and ready to work. He found Ms. Octavia in her classroom and told her about the dragons and what had transpired overnight.
“That’s quite a project,” Ms. Octavia said, scratching her head with one of her tentacles. “I admit I have no idea how you’re going to do it. I’ve only fixed existing appendages. I always left the creating of them up to Marcus.”
“I know . . . I still have to figure that out. But,” Alex said, his face growing excited, “I have something cool I need to show you.”
“What is it?” asked Ms. Octavia.
Alex pulled his notebook from his pocket. It sprang open to the page with the 3-D dragon drawing. The drawing popped up and hovered a few inches above the page.
Ms. Octavia took in a sharp breath, and then carefully took the notebook from Alex and looked more closely at the dragon from all angles. She took off her latest pair of fake glasses from Mr. Appleblossom and studied it some more, turning the notebook in a circle. Then she looked at Alex. “I’ve never seen this happen before,” she said, admiration in her voice. “I am very proud of you. Your drawing has continued to improve to near perfection over the years because you work so hard at it, and clearly this is your reward for that. Well done, Alex. Well done.”
“I didn’t mean to do it,” he said modestly. “It just happened when I was drawing.”
“You must have been perfectly precise,” said the octogator, “or I’m sure it wouldn’t have happened. This is really something to celebrate! I wish Marcus were here to see it.”
Tears sprang to Alex’s eyes at the mention of the wonderful old mage who had saved so many Unwanteds over the years. Alex longed for Mr. Today to see this accomplishment. “It’s okay,” Alex said, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Perhaps he knows somehow.”
Together they brainstormed the predicament of putting magical wings on a nonmagically made creature.
“Was Jim the winged tortoise created from a real tortoise?” Alex asked.
“No, I’m afraid not,” said Ms. Octavia. “He’s like the rest of us.”
“But what about you?” Alex said. “You’re parts of two animals. Octopus and alligator. Those creatures are nonmagical, yet you exist magically.”