realized, was no hazy vision; it felt utterly solid, and yet surreal, as if every blade of dead grass was watching him and every cloud in the low, heaving sky was glowering down at him, coldly angry. The featureless grass of the plateau stretched away in all directions and James realized that the plateau was actually an island, surrounded by craggy cliffs. Slate grey waves slammed against the cliffs, sending spray up into the windy air.
And of course, there was the castle, jutting up in the near distance. It was made of black stone, small but so tall, so encrusted with towers and turrets, that it seemed to claw at the cloudy sky. The structure loomed over the edge of the cliff, as if the rocks had eroded away beneath it, and yet the castle still stood, held up by sheer bloody-minded determination.
Someone was watching from the darkness of the castle. James sensed the weight of their gaze like hot stones on his skin. He peered up at the castle, shading his eyes against the grey light. A figure was standing on a high balcony, obscured in shadow.
James strained his eyes, trying to see past the shadowy dimness of the balcony. He could barely make out the figure except that it appeared to be a woman. Her hair streamed darkly in the wind. When she spoke again, a slow chill came over James, freezing him to the spot. His eyes widened, and the vision began to intensify, to bleed and pulse, to shred apart, but the words rang on, echoing louder and louder, pounding James' ears to the point of pain.
The vision shattered and flew apart. Darkness swirled, compressed, and vanished into a single dark point, which hovered over the pedestal of the Disrecorder like a hole in space. A moment later, even that winked from view.
James stood rooted to the floor of the hall, his hair sticking up and his heart pounding.
James shuddered violently, remembering the hopeless toll of that dreaming voice.
Footsteps approached, accompanied echoing voices; Zane and Ralph were returning. Quickly, James stepped forward to retrieve the dream story, but then he stopped, his eyes widening.
The bowl of the Disrecorder was empty. Petra's dream story had completely vanished.
15. THE STAR OF CONVERGENCE
Now that the Alma Aleron Halloween Ball had officially come and gone, the campus got down to the serious business of unwinding toward the winter holidays.
No sooner had the floating pumpkins in the cafeteria been taken down than a collection of papier-mache turkeys and strange buckled hats had gone up in their place. Thanksgiving, the holiday that, according to Professor Sanuye, celebrated the successful harvest of the first American pilgrims (with the help and cooperation of the Native Americans whom they'd met there) seemed to be a surprisingly big deal among the Alma Aleron students and faculty. Most of them were making plans to go home over the long weekend, where they would apparently eat lots of roasted turkey, mashed potatoes, and pumpkin pie and listen to or attend a lot of commemorative sporting events, including a blockbuster professional Clutchcudgel match known as the Superbrawl.
Curious about the details of such a quintessentially American holiday, James and Ralph shamelessly invited themselves to Zane's family home near St. Louis, Missouri for the Walker's Thanksgiving dinner. Zane's father, communicating via James' owl, Nobby, happily agreed to host the boys.
Thus, on the last weekend of November, the three boys traveled by train to a small old station in the quaint little city of Kirkwood, which Zane proudly proclaimed as 'the first official suburb of St. Louis'. This fact was woefully lost on James and Ralph, however, who were both preoccupied with the narrow, snow-dusted streets and brightly lit Christmas decorations that adorned the city's lampposts. As the three boys waited in the purple dusk for Zane's parents to pick them up, they peered across the street to where a gaggle of gaily dressed Muggles milled around an artificial forest of neatly cut and arranged pine trees. Occasionally, a minivan or car would motor out onto the street with one of the trees tied to the roof by a length of twine.
'People around here get started early with their Christmases, don't they?' Ralph said with a happy smile. 'I could get used to that, I bet.'
'That's nothing,' Zane replied. 'There's a family in the block next to my house that leaves their Christmas tree up all year long. True story.'
James frowned. 'Are they magical folk?'
'Nah,' Zane answered easily. 'They're just weird. Here comes my mom!'
The boys waved and collected their duffle bags as a white car pulled into the circle drive that fronted the train station. It still gave James an odd sensation whenever he saw someone driving from the left side of the car, but Zane, of course, thought nothing of it. He climbed into the front seat with his mother, an attractive blonde woman wearing tortoise-shell glasses. She smiled back at Ralph and James as they clambered into the back.
'Hi boys,' she announced, offering each one a cookie from a paper bag. 'Welcome to Kirkwood. Hope you're hungry.'
'I am,' Ralph agreed eagerly. 'Mmm! Chocolate chip cookies. And are those chunks of cherry?'
'Still hot too!' Zane nodded, his mouth full.
'Just came out of the oven ten minutes ago,' Zane's mother concurred, steering the car back out onto the street. 'Greer stayed home with her father, watching the last batch, but she's just as excited as we are to have you all over for the holiday.'
James watched the small town unroll past the windows of the car until they reached a neighborhood of little houses and neat yards, not unlike the area surrounding the Alma Aleron gate. Zane's mother slowed and angled up a short drive toward a simple stone house perched on a hill.
'Home sweet home!' Zane announced eagerly, already opening his door. 'Dad's got the fire going, I bet!'
'That's not very hard,' his mother commented. 'It's a gas fireplace. But I'm sure you're right.'
As the four climbed out of the car, the back door of the house swept open and a head of curly blonde hair poked out, lit brightly by the overhead light.
'Dad's carving the turkey,' the girl called, 'but I can't get him to stop eating it as he goes. You better get in here right away.'
