The crow spiraled into the cushion of trees, and Kaye ran toward it. The forest around her blurred, and she was suddenly looking down at the black shape. It was still, feathers ruffling slightly in the breeze. Her doll was there too, lying apart from the dead bird, and between them was a smooth white stone. The stone that Gristle had spoken.
And then she woke up.
Kaye's mother was standing in the doorway of the bedroom holding a cordless phone. "I've been calling and calling you from downstairs. Janet's on the phone."
"What?" Kaye blinked through eyes crusty with day-old makeup. She stretched her legs out, and her feet kicked the footboard of the tiny bed.
The sun was alive again, glowing with fury at the night's trickery at the hands of Mistress Moon. Flares of lemony light threatened her with a headache if she opened her eyes.
"Rough night?" Kaye's mother leaned against the doorframe and took a drag on her cigarette.
Kaye rubbed her eyes. Her knuckles came away black and glittery.
"Janet's on the phone." Kaye's mother sounded both annoyed and amused at having to repeat herself. "You want me to tell her you'll call her back?"
Kaye shook her head and took the phone. "Hullo?" Her voice was rough, thick with phlegm.
Ellen left the doorway, and Kaye heard her thump down the stairs.
"What happened last night?" It took Kaye a few moments to understand what Janet was asking.
"Oh. Nothing. Kenny tried to catch me, and my shirt ripped."
"Kaye! How come you ran out like that? I thought he'd done something terrible to you! We were fighting all night about it."
"I didn't think you'd believe me," Kaye said flatly.
That must have sounded enough like best-friend contrition, because Janet's tone softened. "Come on, Kaye. Of course I believe you."
Kaye struggled for what to say to the unexpected reprieve. "Are you okay?" Janet asked.
"I met someone on the way home last night." Kaye sat up in bed, realizing that she'd gone to bed with her bra, skirt, and stockings still on. No wonder she felt uncomfortable.
"You did?" Janet sounded surprised and almost skeptical. "A boy?"
"Yeah," Kaye said. She wanted to say it aloud, to hold on to it. Already her recollection of Roiben was blanched by the sun, the way a dream fades when you don't write it down. "He had gray eyes and long hair."
"Like a metal head?"
"Longer," Kaye said. She wrapped the puke-pink comforter more tightly around her. Like everything else in her bedroom, it was slightly too small.
"Weird. What's his name?"
"Robin," Kaye said, a little smile on her face. She was glad Janet couldn't see her right now—she was sure she looked idiotically happy.
"Like Robin Hood? Are you for real? Did he hit on you?"
"We just talked," Kaye said.
Janet sighed. "You didn't meet anyone, did you? You're making this up."
"He's real," Kaye said. He was real, the most real person she had met in a long time. Hyper real.
"The party sucked anyway," Janet said. "I almost kicked this girl's ass. Dough kept telling me to chill, but I was too wasted and upset. Well, come over and I'll tell you the rest."
"Sure, okay. I've got to get dressed."
"Okay, 'bye." The phone clicked as Janet hung up. Kaye turned it off and dropped it on the comforter.