Chapter 34: The Dreams That Found Them
By the time the sixth episode of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air reached its final few minutes, Kairo and Rebecca had stopped pretending they were still watching it.
The television continued playing across the room, bright colors flashing over the dark plum walls while Will Smith talked his way into another problem that everyone, including the two half-asleep children, had seen coming several scenes ago. The volume had been lowered enough that Rebecca could handle it comfortably, and the steady rhythm of voices and audience laughter blended into the softer sounds of the mansion around them.
Rebecca had claimed the pillows. All of them.
Kairo had complained about that for nearly five full minutes, pointing out that the bed had enough pillows to supply a small hotel, yet somehow Rebecca had still gathered almost every good one into a nest around herself. She responded by handing him a pillow shaped like a bat's head, which had one eye slightly higher than the other and tiny felt fangs sticking from its mouth.
Kairo had stared at it. Rebecca had stared back.
He accepted the pillow because he was tired and because friendship apparently required sacrifice. Plus it was her bed and all that stuff.
They had started with a proper amount of space between them. Rebecca lay near the center of the bed, wrapped in her dark blanket with the repaired Fresh Prince of Bel-Air record resting safely on the bedside table. Kairo lay several feet away, the duck hood pulled back from his silver-white hair, his round face half buried in the strange bat pillow.
Neither of them intended to fall asleep.
Rebecca had insisted they were only resting their eyes.
Kairo had pointed out that people only said that directly before falling asleep. Rebecca told him to be quiet. Kairo answered that he was already quiet. Then, somehow, the room slipped away.
Kairo's power settled over the bed without either child noticing. It did not stop the world or freeze the house. It did something smaller, gentler, and far more useful.
Time thickened around them. Seconds stretched. Minutes widened.
Three ordinary hours passed through the Langstrom mansion, but beneath the blankets, Kairo and Rebecca received nearly twelve hours of real rest. Their breathing slowed, their muscles loosened, and the exhaustion left behind by the zoo, the psychic dome, the transformations, and several days of fear began to ease.
It should have ended there.
Kairo's temporal instincts usually woke him when his body had received enough rest. No matter how little time passed outside, his power knew when his body had slept enough. It normally pulled him awake with all the kindness of someone throwing open curtains at sunrise.
This time, it did not.
Rebecca's mind had already drifted toward his.
Her thoughts, usually wide, loud, and sensitive to everything around her, reached for the deep calm of Kairo's consciousness. Kairo's sleeping mind responded in turn, recognizing her presence and opening without the defenses he carried while awake.
Their thoughts touched. Then they fitted together. The dream held them. Outside of it, Rebecca rolled toward the nearest source of warmth. Unfortunately for Kairo, that source was Kairo.
She moved without waking, one arm sliding across his middle and one knee pushing into the blankets between his legs. Her head settled against his shoulder, her long auburn hair spreading across his chest and face.
Kairo immediately became too hot. Even asleep, he frowned.
The duck pajamas were thick, soft, and designed by Beryl, who apparently believed nighttime clothing should survive a winter campaign in northern England. Kairo already overheated easily. Adding Rebecca, who held warmth like a little human furnace and actively searched for more of it in her sleep, made the situation deeply unacceptable.
He pushed her arm away.
Rebecca's body waited several seconds.
Then her arm returned.
Kairo rolled toward the far edge of the bed.
Rebecca followed.
He pushed backward with both feet.
She crawled closer.
Neither child woke up enough to understand that they were quietly fighting a territorial war beneath the blankets.
Kairo's sleeping mind seemed convinced that escape was possible.
Rebecca's sleeping body disagreed.
Every time he created distance, she found him again. She threw an arm over him. He peeled it away. She wrapped both arms around his middle. He rolled over. She curled against his back. He attempted to inch toward the foot of the bed. She followed him like a heat-seeking bat.
By the end of the second hour, Kairo had somehow become trapped beneath her arm, one of her legs, and most of her hair.
Rebecca slept peacefully.
Kairo suffered with the deep silence of a child who had lost a battle he did not know he was fighting.
Inside the dream, neither one of them knew anything about it.
At first, the dream belonged to Kairo.
He stood in the great hall of the Wakati mansion, except the mansion had become taller than any real building had a right to be. The ceiling stretched into a sky filled with clocks instead of stars. Grandfather clocks grew from the marble like trees, their wooden bodies twisting upward, their pendulums swinging gently in the air.
Every clock showed a different time.
Some ticked backward.
Some did not move.
One had tiny legs and ran away when Kairo tried to look at it.
Kairo chased it down the hallway while wearing his duck pajamas and carrying a wooden sword in one hand. The dream gave him no explanation for why he needed to catch the clock. He simply understood that the clock had stolen something important.
He caught up to it near the library and demanded the return of whatever it had taken.
The clock opened its little wooden door.
A piece of toast fell out.
Kairo stared at the toast.
The clock bowed politely and ran away again.
Before he could decide what any of that meant, the dream changed.
Rebecca took control without meaning to.
The mansion dissolved into a city made of speakers, records, and giant headphones. Buildings pulsed with music. Roads curled like the grooves of vinyl albums, and every streetlight wore a tiny bat-shaped shade.
Rebecca stood on top of a concert stage.
She was older in the dream, perhaps twelve or thirteen, wearing black boots, a dark jacket, and green-tinted glasses. Her auburn hair was wild behind her, and a guitar hung across her body even though she did not know how to play one.
Kairo stood in the audience.
So did thousands of bats.
The bats cheered.
Kairo raised one hand. "You do not know how to play that."
Dream-Rebecca pointed at him. "Neither do they."
The bats continued cheering.
Rebecca struck one chord.
The entire dream-city exploded into purple fireworks.
The fireworks became fish.
The fish swam through the sky.
Then one dropped low enough to slap Kairo in the face with its tail.
He woke inside the next dream already annoyed.
Now they were both underwater.
Kairo did not need to breathe. Rebecca had gills. They sat at the bottom of an ocean inside a school classroom while a shark wearing glasses taught mathematics from a blackboard.
Rebecca understood every question.
Kairo understood none of them because the equations had been written in bubbles that popped before he could read them.
The shark asked him to solve one.
Kairo said the answer was Thursday.
The shark accepted this.
Rebecca raised her hand and asked why.
The shark told her not to question genius.
Kairo nodded with great dignity.
The classroom faded.
They moved through dreams like children flipping through channels too quickly.
In one, they rode Nimbus across a sky made of pudding while Penelope sat behind them complaining that pudding was a terrible material for weather.
In another, Addison ruled a kingdom of penguins and demanded that all citizens pay taxes in pastries. Alaric stood beside her holding a book with no pages, calmly informing everyone that the pastries had already been eaten.
There was a dream where Beryl trained an army of duck knights. Every duck wore a little helmet and carried a tiny sword. Kairo had been placed in command of them despite repeatedly explaining that he wanted no part in duck warfare.
The ducks ignored him.
Beryl declared him Sir Quacks-a-Lot.
Kairo attempted to leave the dream.
Another dream placed them inside a library where every book whispered secrets. Rebecca loved it for the first few minutes, but then all the books started talking at once. Kairo took her hand and asked the shelves to slow down.
The whispers softened.
The library became quiet.
Rebecca looked at him.
The dream changed before either of them could speak.
They became giants walking through Gotham, carefully stepping over buildings while Batman stood on a rooftop shouting instructions through a megaphone.
Kairo could not understand the instructions.
Rebecca could, but refused to repeat them because Batman was apparently telling them not to step on anything.
Kairo accidentally kicked the Bat-Signal into space.
Batman put one hand over his face.
Rebecca laughed so hard the city shook.
The next dream belonged to neither of them.
They sat at a kitchen table with Uncle Phil, who was somehow also Dr. Elias Wakati. He wore a suit, held a newspaper, and gave both children a long speech about responsibility while making pancakes.
Every time he placed a pancake on the table, it turned into a clock.
Kairo tried to eat one.
It rang like an alarm.
Rebecca told him that was what happened when people ate time for breakfast.
Kairo answered that she had no proof.
After what might have been the seventeenth change, both children began to understand that something strange was happening.
They stood in a moonlit meadow beneath a sky filled with slow-moving stars. The grass reached their knees, soft and silver where the light touched it. Small white flowers grew across the field, opening and closing in time with their breathing.
Kairo looked down at himself.
He was still wearing the duck pajamas.
He sighed.
Even his own dreams refused to respect him.
Rebecca stood several feet away, also in her pajamas, her auburn hair drifting in a wind neither of them could feel.
For a while, they simply looked around.
Then Rebecca pointed at the moon.
The moon had a face.
Not a shadow that happened to resemble a face.
A proper face.
It had eyes, a nose, a wide smiling mouth, and a mustache that curled at both ends. The moon lowered slightly in the sky as though leaning closer to them.
"Children," it said, its deep voice echoing gently across the field, "friendship is like the night sky. Sometimes dark, sometimes distant, but always filled with lights that guide the heart."
Kairo stared.
Rebecca stared.
The moon continued. "A true friend sees the monster within and says, 'I know there is still a child beneath the wings.' A true friend carries the burden of another without allowing that burden to become a chain."
Kairo slowly looked at Rebecca.
Rebecca slowly looked at Kairo.
The moon smiled more brightly. "And so, young dreamers, remember that friendship is not measured by how often one laughs beside another, but by how often one chooses to stay when laughter becomes difficult."
Rebecca nodded seriously. "That is actually nice."
Kairo nodded too, though with much less enthusiasm. "Very nice. Thank you, Moon."
The moon's mustache twitched proudly.
Rebecca smiled up at it. "We are good on lessons for now, but we can ask for more later."
She meant it.
Kairo placed one hand over his heart. "Absolutely. One hundred percent. We will come back later."
He was lying.
The moon believed both of them.
It winked.
Then its face disappeared, returning it to the appearance of an ordinary dream moon, though the mustache remained faintly visible for several seconds before fading too.
Kairo watched it.
"That moon was too trusting."
Rebecca lowered herself into the grass. "I liked it."
"I could tell."
"You lied to it."
He shrugged at her. "Lying is a little much; I was simply protecting my peace."
"That is still lying."
"It was strategic lunar communication."
Rebecca rolled her eyes.
Kairo sat beside her. The grass moved around them in soft waves. Fireflies floated above the flowers, glowing green and gold.
For Rebecca, the dream was beautiful.
It was quiet without being empty. The world was wide without feeling exposed. Every sound had space around it, every thought belonged to only the person thinking it, and nothing pressed into her mind unless she wanted it there.
She lifted one hand. A pair of bat wings grew from her back.
They unfolded slowly, large and dark, but not monstrous. Their inner membranes shimmered with faint green patterns, and every movement sent tiny sparks through the air.
Rebecca looked over her shoulder. Her face lit up.
Kairo saw the excitement coming and immediately became tired.
She ran across the field. Then she jumped. Her wings caught the air. Rebecca rose.
She laughed as she flew over the meadow, climbing in wide circles beneath the moon. She twisted once, dipped toward the grass, and climbed again. The fear connected to her transformation was absent here. No bones shifted. No pain tore through her skin. The wings simply belonged to her.
Kairo watched from below.
"That is nice," he admitted.
Rebecca flew upside down. "Come up here!"
He didn't move an inch. "No."
"You were jumping earlier."
He shook his head. "That was in the real world."
"You ran on a ceiling."
"Also real."
"You cannot fly here?"
"I probably can."
"Then do it."
Kairo lay back in the grass. "I do not want to."
Rebecca hovered above him. "Why?"
"Because I want to wake up."
"We just got here."
"We have been here for at least fifteen unrelated dreams."
"That is not long."
"It feels long."
Rebecca turned in the air and continued flying.
Kairo lifted the golden watch from beneath the collar of his duck pajamas. Aurielis appeared around his neck naturally, the metal warm against his skin. In the dream, the watch looked brighter than usual. Golden rings of light moved over its face, and the tiny hands turned in several directions at once.
"Aurielis," Kairo said. "How long have we been asleep?"
The watch gave a pleased little hum.
Her voice came clearly into the dream, no longer limited to Kairo's thoughts. It carried across the meadow with her familiar Italian-New York sharpness, smooth, feminine, and already amused.
"Well, look who finally remembered he has a guardian angel attached to his neck."
Kairo looked down at her. "I remembered."
"Sure, sweetheart. That is why you waited through the talking moon."
"The moon was giving a speech."
"And you were too polite to interrupt. Adorable."
Kairo rolled his eyes so hard that they might have rolled out of his face, "How long?"
"Outside? A little over three hours."
Kairo sat upright. "Only three?"
"Your power stretched the rest period. You both got close to twelve hours of recovery out of it."
"That is good."
"Yes, very good. Efficient. Healthy. Responsible. I would be proud, except neither of you planned it."
Kairo shrugged. "Good results are good results."
Aurielis laughed. "Spoken like a tiny scientist."
Rebecca heard the voice.
Her wings froze in mid-beat.
She turned sharply in the air.
The second she located the golden watch, she folded her wings and dived toward Kairo.
Kairo saw her coming.
"Wait."
Rebecca accelerated.
Kairo started to get up, moving away from the high-speed body coming toward him. "Rebecca!"
She flew directly into him.
The impact sent both of them rolling through the dream grass. It did not hurt, but the dream was detailed enough to fill Kairo's mouth with dirt, flowers, and something that tasted suspiciously like cinnamon.
He tumbled three times before landing flat on his back.
Rebecca ended up sitting across his stomach, wings spread behind her, both hands already reaching toward the watch.
Kairo spat out a blade of grass. Then another.
"Your very heavy for a six-year-old girl in the dream world."
Rebecca ignored him. "Your watch talks?"
"She is not a talking watch."
The golden casing gave an offended click.
Aurielis said, "Thank you."
Kairo continued, "She normally speaks inside my head, and sometimes other people can hear her through magical means."
Rebecca leaned closer to the watch. "Hello?"
Aurielis's hands spun happily. "Hello yourself."
Rebecca's eyes widened. "You are real."
"That is usually how introductions work, yes."
Kairo pushed against Rebecca's arm. "Can you please get off me?"
She remained exactly where she was.
"What are you?" Rebecca asked.
Kairo let his head fall into the grass.
Aurielis sounded delighted to have a new audience. "I am Aurielis. Angel of Time. Guardian, adviser, emergency restraint system, occasional therapist, and full-time babysitter to the little duck prince currently being crushed beneath you."
Rebecca looked down at Kairo. He stared back. She looked toward Aurielis again. "A real angel?"
"A real one."
"Like wings and heaven and everything?"
"Wings when I feel like it. Heaven is more complicated than people make it sound. Everything else depends on the day."
"How did Kairo get you?"
"I was sleeping inside this watch for a very long time. An old friend of mine gave it to him when he was a baby. Kairo woke me."
Kairo muttered, "Against both our better judgment."
Aurielis ignored him. "My old friend is Madame Xanadu."
Rebecca tilted her head. "The magic aunt?"
Kairo shut his eyes.
Aurielis laughed warmly. "Honestly, yes. That may be the best simple explanation."
"Who is she really?"
"That answer belongs to her. Even I know better than to speak for Madame Xanadu."
Rebecca nodded as though she had learned something important.
Kairo finally managed to slide out from under her by turning into a flat shadow for half a second, something he had not known he could do in a dream and had no interest in investigating right now.
He reformed several feet away, brushed dream dirt from his duck pajamas, and pointed accusingly at Rebecca.
"All you had to do was ask."
Rebecca stood. Then she looked at the watch.
Kairo understood her intention too late.
"No."
She flew forward, snatched Aurielis from around his neck, and rose into the sky.
Kairo reached for her. "Hey!"
Rebecca climbed higher, settling onto a small cloud that had not existed until she needed somewhere to sit. She held the watch carefully in both hands.
"Private conversation," she called down.
Kairo stared up at her with open offense.
"It is my watch!"
Aurielis answered, "Technically, I am my own person."
"That is not helping!"
Rebecca tucked her wings around the cloud and lowered her voice, even though the dream space probably allowed Kairo to hear them if he tried.
He did not try. He sat in the grass and began pulling flowers apart in protest.
Rebecca looked down at Aurielis.
"Can I ask you questions about Kairo?"
The watch hummed. "You can ask. Whether I answer depends on whether you are being nosy, dangerous, or cute."
Rebecca's cheeks warmed. "I am not cute."
Aurielis paused.
"Sure."
Rebecca frowned. "When is his birthday?"
"August fourth."
Rebecca nodded, storing the date immediately.
Aurielis did not miss that.
"What is his favorite color?" Rebecca asked.
"That changes depending on what mood he is in. He likes gold because it feels warm and important. He likes deep blue because it is quiet. He also likes purple more than he admits, but he thinks people will call it fancy."
Rebecca looked pleased. "My walls are purple."
"I noticed."
"What is his favorite food?"
"Anything warm and filling, especially if Anika made it. He likes honey bread, chicken curry when it is not too spicy, baked macaroni and cheese, and little potato pastries. For snacks, chocolate-covered biscuits, kettle corn, and those sour candies Beryl keeps pretending she did not buy."
"Pizza or candy?"
"Pizza most days. Candy when he is upset and trying to claim he is not."
Rebecca looked toward Kairo below. He had become bored with flowers and was now using dream magic to stack smooth stones into a tower.
"What grade is he in?"
"He is homeschooled, so normal grades do not fit well. He reads above his age level, does mathematics several years ahead, and understands science well enough to argue with adults. Geography still annoys him. History confuses him because this world has aliens, gods, and cities that have been destroyed and rebuilt too many times."
"What does he do after school?"
"He trains. Reads. Complains. Trains again. Plays games. Studies magic. Writes in his journal."
Rebecca's eyes narrowed. "Journal?"
Aurielis laughed. "Yes. A very manly journal. Never call it a diary unless you enjoy hearing him threaten to chew on me."
Rebecca smiled. "What sports does he play?"
"He hates sports."
Rebecca looked down at his round body. "That makes sense."
Kairo's head snapped upward. "I heard that!"
Rebecca lifted the watch closer to her face and whispered, "Can he hear us?"
Aurielis answered at full volume. "Only when you insult him loudly."
"I did not insult him," Rebecca called down.
"You said it made sense!"
"It does!"
Kairo returned to his stones with a muttered complaint.
Aurielis continued, "He does not play sports for fun, but Beryl trains him as a future knight. Horseback riding, balance, climbing, basic grappling, padded sword drills, staff work, and the early forms of martial arts. He is stronger than he looks, though he complains through most of training."
"Does he play music?"
Aurielis became quiet.
Rebecca waited.
Finally, the watch said, "Kairo is many things."
"That means no."
"He is trying."
"What does he play?"
"Beryl started him on recorder, flute, and a small lute. Madame Xanadu tried teaching him a harp."
"What happened?"
"The harp asked to be moved to another room."
Rebecca covered her mouth to keep from laughing.
Kairo looked up again. "What did she say?"
"Nothing!" Rebecca called.
Aurielis whispered, "He has absolutely no rhythm. None. I have seen clocks with broken springs keep better time musically."
Rebecca's shoulders shook.
Kairo grew more suspicious.
"Is he funny?" she asked.
Aurielis softened. "Yes. Usually when he is not trying to be."
"Is he nice?"
"Very."
"Always?"
"No. Nobody is always nice. Kairo gets grumpy, tired, jealous, stubborn, and sometimes a little full of himself. But he notices when people are hurting. Even when he cannot fix it, he tries not to make it worse."
Rebecca looked down at him again.
Kairo had abandoned the stone tower and was now lying in the grass with both hands behind his head.
"What shows does he like?"
"Old comedies. Cartoons. Nature shows. Superhero programs, though he complains about how unrealistic they are, which is funny considering his life. He likes The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, obviously. He also enjoys detective shows because he thinks he can solve the mystery first."
"Can he?"
"Sometimes. Then he acts unbearable."
"What animals does he like?"
Aurielis gave a thoughtful hum. "Most of them. He likes cats because they understand personal space. He likes horses because Beryl taught him how to speak to them calmly. He likes turtles because they do not hurry for anyone. He respects ducks despite his complaints about the pajamas."
"And geese?"
"Pure evil."
Rebecca nodded. "I knew it."
"What color are his eyes?" she asked, then immediately realized the question was silly. "I know they are silver-grey. I mean, does he like them?"
"He does. They remind Elias of Amara, and Kairo knows that."
"Does he like hats?"
"No."
"Shoes?"
"Comfortable ones."
"Favorite outfit?"
"Soft dark trousers, a loose sweater, and one of Beryl's old scarves. He likes clothes that do not scratch and do not make him look like a bird."
Rebecca looked at the duck pajamas. "Those look cute."
Aurielis's voice became knowingly sweet. "You think he is cute."
Rebecca stiffened.
"No."
"Mm-hm."
"I mean, the pajamas are."
"Of course."
Rebecca held the watch closer. "Who is his best friend?"
"You."
The answer came without hesitation.
Rebecca went still.
Aurielis continued, gentler now. "At least among children his age. He loves Beryl, Anika, Elias, and Madame Xanadu, but those are family. You are the first child close to his age whose company he actively chooses even when he could be alone."
Rebecca's blush returned.
Below, Kairo had become impatient enough to start making the grass grow backward.
"Does he have a pet?" she asked.
"No. Beryl has a horse he helps care for, but it belongs to her. Kairo keeps asking whether I, Aurielis, count."
"Do you?"
"No. I am an angel. Also, I have dignity."
Kairo shouted from below, "Debatable!"
Aurielis's casing flashed. "Keep talking, duck boy."
Rebecca giggled. "Does he like talking?"
"He likes quiet. But once he trusts someone, yes, he can talk forever. Science, history, magic, stories, food, why certain animals are evil. He pretends to be reserved, but give him the right question and you will be trapped for an hour."
Rebecca understood that.
She was the same way.
She traced one finger over the edge of the watch.
Then asked, trying to sound casual, "Has he ever kissed anyone?"
Aurielis became perfectly silent.
Rebecca's face heated.
"It was just a question."
"Was it?"
"Yes."
"Well, no. Not romantically. Anika kisses his forehead. Beryl does too. Elias did when he was younger and still does sometimes when he thinks Kairo is asleep."
Rebecca nodded quickly. "I meant like, someone his age."
"No."
"Good."
Aurielis laughed.
Rebecca looked offended. "What?"
"Nothing."
"Would he let me meet you in the real world?"
"You already have. After this dream, I can choose to speak to you again through magic if Kairo allows it."
Rebecca smiled. "Would he?"
"Yes."
"You did not ask him."
"I know him."
Down below, Kairo shouted, "How many questions are left?"
Rebecca ignored him.
Aurielis asked, "Anything else?"
Rebecca hesitated.
"Does he like me?"
Aurielis's voice softened.
"Yes."
"How?"
"That part belongs to him."
Rebecca looked down at Kairo lying alone in the field, clearly bored and clearly waiting because she had asked him to.
That answer was enough for now.
She floated on the cloud for a while, holding Aurielis and thinking.
Below them, Kairo rolled onto his side, then his back, then sat up again.
"Can we wake up now?"
Rebecca called, "In a minute."
"You said that a dream ago."
She turned back to Aurielis. "How is this possible? I remember dreams sometimes, but this feels real. We can think. We can talk. You are here. He is being annoying."
Kairo shouted, "I am not being annoying!"
Aurielis hummed so strongly that the watch vibrated in Rebecca's hands.
"I do not know every detail," she admitted. "Dreams belong to a complicated part of existence. Gods, spirits, magicians, psychics, and a few very dramatic cosmic families all have opinions about them."
"But you can guess?"
"Oh, easily. Both of you have unusually stable minds. Kairo has dreamwalked before, more often when he was a baby. He wandered into places he should not have been able to reach, though he cared less and less for it as he grew."
"Why?"
"Because he is like Elias. Too interested in the waking world. He believes dreams are messy, indirect, and difficult to measure."
Kairo called from below, "They are!"
Aurielis continued. "You, however, possess a strong psychic mind. Your consciousness reaches outward naturally. When you fell asleep beside him, your mental patterns touched his. Your sense of self, memory, emotion, and imagination fitted around the calm structure of his mind."
Rebecca looked around at the meadow.
"So we built this?"
"Together. His temporal field made the sleep longer and more stable. Your psychic power gave the dream shape. It also helped that your real body is currently holding him like you are trying to stop him from escaping prison."
Kairo sat upright. "What?"
Rebecca looked down.
Aurielis repeated, happily, "Your body is wrapped around him."
Kairo's face filled with horror. "Please wake us up."
Rebecca's cheeks turned pink again. "I am asleep. I cannot control that."
"Your unconscious mind is attacking me."
"It is not attacking."
"I am probably overheating."
Aurielis said, "You are."
Kairo lifted both hands toward the sky. "Please. I cannot take this anymore. I do not want to be here. I have more Fresh Prince to watch!"
Rebecca looked back at Aurielis. "Why does he not like dreaming with me?"
The question was quieter.
Aurielis sighed.
"Kairo just does not care much for dreams. Do not make it personal. He would be complaining if he dreamed with Superman."
"I would complain more," Kairo called. "He would probably give speeches."
Aurielis continued, "He is a little dumb about feelings. That is all."
"I heard that too!"
"Good."
Rebecca felt better.
She flew down from the cloud and landed near Kairo, handing Aurielis back.
Kairo took the watch and immediately placed it around his neck. "Traitor."
Aurielis gave a tiny golden flash. "I answered questions."
"You revealed private information."
"I did not tell her about the honey incident."
Kairo froze.
Rebecca leaned closer. "What honey incident?"
Kairo covered the watch with both hands. "There was no honey incident."
Aurielis's laughter vibrated against his palms.
Rebecca stepped closer. "One more dream."
Kairo stared at her.
"One."
"No."
"Please."
"We have had enough."
"Just one."
"Rebecca."
She folded her wings and looked at him.
Kairo knew that look.
He also suspected that waking required both of them to release the dream. If Rebecca wanted to stay, he might remain trapped until her real body strangled him into another twelve hours of sleep.
He sighed.
"Fine."
Rebecca smiled.
"One more," he repeated. "Then we wake up."
"Deal."
The meadow began to change.
At first, the grass grew taller.
Then darker.
The moonlight faded beneath a canopy that had not existed a moment earlier. Trees pushed upward around them, their trunks broad and wet, their roots twisting through the ground like sleeping animals.
The air became warm. Heavy. Full of insects.
The silver flowers closed and disappeared beneath ferns.
Kairo looked around. "This was not me."
Rebecca did not answer.
The jungle deepened.
Bioluminescent vines wrapped around distant stone. Blue-green light pulsed through them like blood beneath skin. Towers rose above the trees, gothic and curved, their edges shaped like claws reaching toward the sky.
Bats filled the air. Thousands of them.
They flew through the darkness in geometric patterns. Spirals tightened into symbols. Lines crossed one another. Shapes formed across the sky, glowing briefly before breaking apart.
A sound moved through the jungle.
Low and Haunting.
The vibration of the Chiroptera Organ rolled through the trees like a prayer remembered by the earth. Crystal notes rose beneath the bats' cries, beautiful enough to make Kairo stop walking and unsettling enough to make him want to leave immediately.
Rebecca stared upward.
Some buried part of her remembered.
She had heard pieces of the adults' conversation through walls and floors before Abraham moved them into the secure office. Images had reached her through passing thoughts, broken words, and Batman's tightly controlled mind.
The Bat Cathedral. The jungle. Her parents. She had not understood everything while awake.
Her dreaming mind understood enough.
Kairo looked toward her. Rebecca walked forward.
The jungle shaped itself around them. Stone paths appeared beneath their feet. Small bats carried rolled messages between trees, their harnesses glinting in the eerie light.
Far above, the Nocturnal Canvas spread across the sky. Bat flight became glowing art. Fractals unfolded over the moon. One shape resembled a wing. Another looked like an eye.
Kairo moved closer to Rebecca. She seemed lost in thought. He did not understand the place, but he recognized the feeling. This dream belonged to fear. Not immediate fear. Old fear. The kind made from questions adults refused to answer. They reached a clearing.
At its center stood a statue. It towered above the trees.
A massive Man-Bat creature carved from black stone, wings spread, claws extended, its face pulled into a scream. Smaller human figures knelt around its feet, their arms raised in worship.
Rebecca stopped. The statue's green stone eyes opened. Kairo placed one hand on her shoulder. She flinched.
"It looks like me," she whispered.
He shook his head. "No."
Rebecca looked at him.
"It looks like what you can turn into," Kairo said. "That is not the same thing."
The organ music deepened. The statues around them seemed to move.
Kairo squeezed her shoulder. "You are fine."
"I almost hurt everyone."
He stopped her. "You also warned me."
"I changed."
"You came back."
Her eyes remained on the statue.
Kairo looked up at the monstrous face.
"I do not know what this place is," he admitted. "And I do not know why your dream made it. But you are not a statue, a monster, or something people need to worship. You are Rebecca. You like loud music even though you hear too much. You destroy mugs. You steal watches. You have poor opinions about duck pajamas."
"They are cute."
"That is one of your flaws."
Rebecca smiled faintly.
Kairo pointed toward the jungle. "We should leave before this becomes a real nightmare and something tries to teach us another lesson. A lesson that might not be so kind and friendly as the one we learned from The Moon."
She nodded. Together, they walked away from the statue.
With each step, the jungle loosened around them. The glowing towers faded. The bats scattered into ordinary stars. The haunting music softened until it became wind moving through grass.
The moonlit meadow returned. Rebecca took a breath.
Kairo released it with her. "All right," he said. "Wake up."
Rebecca opened her mouth. Then stopped.
Her head turned sharply toward the edge of the dream.
Kairo noticed. "What?"
She listened with more than her ears. Something touched the dream.
A mind. Still very Weak and Tired but so Careful.
It brushed the edge of their shared space like fingertips against glass, not trying to force its way inside, only searching for something familiar.
Rebecca's green eyes widened. "Ace."
Kairo stepped closer. "What about her?"
"She is waking up."
Before he could ask anything else, the dream broke.
Kairo opened his eyes to heat, pressure, and hair.
So much hair.
Rebecca's arm was wrapped around his middle. Her leg had trapped one of his. Her face rested against his shoulder, and several long auburn strands had found their way into his mouth.
Kairo made a muffled noise of outrage.
He spat out hair. Then more hair.
He twisted carefully beneath her arm and finally slipped free, rolling toward the edge of the bed. Cool air touched his face.
"Freedom," he whispered.
Rebecca woke beside him, blinking slowly. Her wings were gone. The dream field was gone. The television remained paused on Will Smith's face, his expression frozen halfway through a joke.
Only three hours had passed. Kairo felt rested. Strangely rested.
He climbed down from the bed, the duck tail on his pajamas bouncing behind him as he crossed the room.
Rebecca sat up. "Where are you going?"
Kairo pointed toward the far wall.
The remains of her shattered mug still lay across the cleared carpet. Tiny fragments of glass glittered beneath the room's soft light.
"I said I would fix it."
"You do not have to."
"I know."
He held out one hand. The broken pieces trembled. Then lifted.
They rose from the carpet one by one, spinning through the air before gathering inside a clear temporal bubble. The fragments floated around the empty center, each one searching for where it belonged.
Kairo lifted his other hand.
"Turn back the clock," he whispered.
The bubble tightened.
Glass moved backward.
Dust returned to fragments. Fragments became larger pieces. Cracks closed. The handle reformed. The words WORLD'S BEST AND CUTEST GRANDDAUGHTER returned across the side, followed by the little crowned bat beneath them.
Kairo clapped his hands.
The bubble flashed.
The mug dropped into his palms.
Steam rose from one side.
Smoke curled from the other.
The glass felt warm and cold at once. Kairo stared at it for a second, then placed it safely on the desk. Rebecca climbed from the bed and walked over. She looked at the restored mug. Then at him.
Kairo gave her a satisfied nod. "Wanna go check up on Ace?"
Rebecca's smile grew.
"And bug her?" Kairo added.
Rebecca nodded. "Definitely."
Kairo adjusted Aurielis around his neck, pulled his duck hood back over his silver-white hair, and headed toward the door beside her.
Neither one of them knew what Ace would remember when she opened her eyes.
They did not know whether she would be frightened, angry, confused, or ready to run.
They only knew she would not wake up alone.
And for children who had spent far too much of their lives feeling different, that seemed like a good place to start.