//------------------------------//
// Ch. 6 — Reminiscences 
// Story: The Triwizard Pony 
// by tkepner 
//------------------------------//


Hit 400 Likes on Thursday! Thanks!
Here’s a chapter to celebrate!
Next goal, 500 Likes for early release of the next chapter!





Ch. 6 — Reminiscences



There was a letter atop the pile of books by his bed, Harry saw, as he placed his new trunk at the base of his bed.


۸-_-۸


 

Mr. Sparkle,
 
Here are all the standard textbooks used in Hogwarts. The other champions in the tournament have an unfair age advantage over you as they are all seventeen while you are just fourteen. If you have any non-tournament-related questions, please feel free to ask any professor for assistance. Prefects are also available to help you. I wish you the best, and good luck.
 
After dinner this evening, please come by my office.
 
Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.


۸-_-۸


 

How odd was it that the Headmaster had five names while most other people only had three? Did he have any brothers or sisters? And did they also have five names? Harry shook his head in resignation.

He started rearranging his things and packing away his books. The first compartment would make a decent depository. Unfortunately, it could barely hold all the books piled beside him, plus the books he had bought. He had room for only a dozen or so more. The other compartment was more than enough for his clothes, however.

Maybe he should have bought a three-compartment trunk? For now, at least, the small booklet of instructions would let him rearrange things to his satisfaction. He would see about trading it in, later.

And then began the parade of people coming in to meet him. First were the prefects, six of them, then the other students began to trickle in. The Weasley twins brought their friends and something called a Quidditch team with them — Oliver Wood, Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, Katie Bell, and Ginny Weasley.

Huh. Apparently there were almost enough Weasleys to make a sports team. Did Ron not like the sport and that was why he wasn’t on the team? 

“Do you really know a spell that gives wings to people?” Katie asked, the rest of the team listening closely.

“We told you he did!” said Fred.

“Lee saw us!” said George.

“Or, it could be another prank,” Angelina said dryly.

Harry looked at her a moment. “I can cast the spell, but you’ll have to take off your robes to use the wings.” He raised an eyebrow.

Katie grinned, then grabbed the edges of her robes and started pulling them over her head. The boys in the room stared, speechless.

One of the prefects said, “Miss Bell!” in an outraged tone of voice. Another took a step forward and reached out a hand.

Then they saw that she was wearing trousers and an open-backed blouse. They still looked dreadfully scandalized.

Harry shrugged as she handed her robe to Angelina and stood in front of him, hands on her hips and feet slightly spread for good balance.

He recalled the spell matrix, and started pouring magic into it. Only a little though, he had feeling he’d be doing this a lot until the others had learned the spell themselves. Then there was a swirl of magic and a flash of light.

“Merlin!” someone breathed reverently.

“Yeah,” agreed a few others, in just as awed a tone.

Katie stood, astonished as she watched a wing stretch out, first on one side then the other. She said an amazed, “Oh, wow!” and touched them, slack-jawed in amazement.

“It’ll only last a few minutes,” he said, “So don’t go any higher than a few feet.” He leaned on the bed. “I imagine there are several of you who would like to try it.” He looked over at his four friends, who were all nodding frantically.

Fifteen minutes later, he was very tired and yawned wide enough to hear his jaw crack. There were now nine people bearing wings, only two of whom were still in the room. The others had quickly glided down to the more spacious Common Room.

Fred handed him a bottle of something blue. “Invigoration Draught,” he explained. “Restores your energy.”

Ron glared daggers at Fred. “Don’t drink that, Harry,” he ordered.

“No! Honestly!” protested Fred.

“It’s the real thing, Ron,” said George.

“Nothing added or changed!” declared Fred.

“Just an Invigoration Draught.”

They both held out their hands with fingers wide-spread to show they weren’t crossing any of them.

Harry looked at Ron, who reluctantly nodded his capitulation. Harry shrugged, then took the small bottle and drank it. It tasted like soap. He felt a brief pang of pain as he thought of his mum, and his herdmates.

Almost immediately, though, he felt his exhaustion recede and he felt as good as when he had first woken up in the morning. The only thing was, his magic still felt tired.

But at least he wouldn’t fall asleep on his plate of food at dinner.

“Now then,” Fred said as he took back the bottle and stoppered it.

“Would you please teach us the spell that you used?” finished George.

They both looked at him with pleading eyes.

Harry smiled. They had nothing on the fillies.

“Come closer,” he motioned to Fred. “Lean down.”

Fred eagerly came closer and leaned down until his head was level with Harry’s.

Harry leaned forward and pressed his horn against the wizard’s forehead.

He closed his eyes and concentrated. Here’s the spell matrix, he thought, and pushed it into his horn and up to Fred. Watch how it lights up, he continued, using his magic to touch the different sections, pulling and guiding Fred’s magic, until the entire matrix was glowing. Point it at the target, was his next instruction. He opened his eyes and looked, almost cross-eyed, at Fred’s face, and superimposed the matrix on it.

His magic was merely guiding Fred’s. He let Fred’s magic do all the heavy work.

Now pump your magic into it, was the next instruction. How much you put in determines how long it lasts. PUSH! He watched the magic flow as Fred started to glow and magic started to wrap itself around him, becoming thicker and thicker, tighter and tighter. Then he said STOP!

There was a bright flash of light.

Fred staggered for a moment. Harry braced him with his forehooves.

“What happened?” he asked, “Did you just put a spell in my mind?” He looked at everyone. “Something happened, right? Do I have wings?”

Harry giggled as the boy’s robes twitched and bulged. “Yep, except they’re under your robes.”

Fred looked at Harry, wonderingly. “You showed me the spell. You actually went into my head and showed me!” He glanced around the room. “That is so much easier than reading from a book or having someone just show you the movements and incantation!” He turned and staggered a step as he realized just how tired he was. “Wow, that takes a lot out of you, doesn’t it?”

Harry nodded. “It’s easier when you cast it on yourself, too.”

“How long will it last?”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Don’t know. How strong is your magic compared to mine?”

Fred just looked at him.

“Guessing, I’d say for an hour? Maybe two?” Harry shrugged, “We’ll have to wait and see.”

“My turn,” said George, pulling his robes off first. He had on a pair of trousers, but no shirt.

Harry repeated the process. By the time he had finished, Fred had managed to get his robes off without messing up his wings too much and was slowly flapping around the room, just barely off the floor. He, too, had trousers but no shirt.

Harry leaned back against his bed. “That’s it for me. I’ll barely be able to lift my dinner.” He looked at the others crowded into the room, ducking the twins’ swinging wings. “If you’re still interested, I’ll show you tomorrow.”

The others were disappointed at missing out, but they all understood that when your magic ran out, it was done for the day. Tomorrow would have to suffice. They were tremendously excited at the possibility of actually flying. And doing so without requiring a broomstick!

He spent the rest of the afternoon reading about what had happened that fateful Halloween in 1981.

Dinner, a bit later, was pandemonium as the twins flew overhead and buzzed their friends. Seeing people fly with wings was apparently a real novelty. And the others who had had wings were bragging about what it was like.

The students from the two visiting schools seemed especially impressed.

It was weird to look up at the ceiling that reflected the waning light of the day and see the twins darting up above the magic illusion in one place and reappearing in another a minute later. He was impressed that the old wizard the previous night had been able to see him through that and his don’t-notice-me-field.

Mid-way through dinner, when the most students were present, Dumbledore stood and tapped his goblet to get everyone’s attention.

“I hope you are enjoying your repast,” he said genially, his voice magically carrying throughout the hall. “I’d like to make a brief announcement. Yesterday, the Goblet of Fire chose a Fourth Champion for the Triwizard Tournament. It was confounded into thinking there were four schools, not three.” He paused and looked sternly around the room. “Someone placed a parchment with Harry Potter’s name on it into the Goblet, under a fake school’s name. Thus, he was chosen as a champion. The intent of this person, we are sure, was to either kill Mr. Potter, or force him out of hiding, where he could be killed.”

There was a collective gasp of astonishment and horror at that proclamation.

“The Goblet’s magical contract, of course, means he must stay here until the tournament is finished. He will compete as a representative of Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns.

“As he is not a student here, we cannot use the Sorting Hat to place him in a Hogwarts House. However, he has nowhere to stay. So, for the time, he is staying with the Fourth Year Gryffindors while he learns about magic and prepares for the Tournament’s tasks. Please make him feel welcome.” The Headmaster looked around the hall, again, smiling, then sat back down.

The hall broke into frenzied whispering, and many, many people staring at Harry. He just kept his head down and concentrated on eating.

It was his third helping of a dessert he had never heard of, Sussex Pond Pudding, when a Prefect came up to him. “Professor Dumbledore would like to see you after dinner,” he said. “I’ll show you the way.”

Harry nodded, and quickly shoved the last of the pastry into his mouth with his hoof. He quite enjoyed it. It had butter, sugar, and lemon slices in it — a bizarre combination of sweet and bitter that seemed to work quite well, he thought. He would keep an eye out for it. And get the recipe for the castle kitchens at home.


۸-_-۸


 

Twilight burst into the Throne room at a full gallop, ignoring the petitioners and nobles. The guards, however, were prepared and had unobtrusively cleared the way. They knew, from very long experience, what the panic-prone purple pony was like. 

She slid to a stop in front of the thrones, gasping.

«Ah, my faithful friend!» Princess Celestia said. She looked up, amused, as Twilight’s friends started to trickle into the room behind the little alicorn. They were all in different stages of distress at the long gallop, except the hardier Applejack and Rainbow Dash. It appeared that the young mare had galloped the entire way from the train. Teleporting would have been faster, but her former student tended to forget she could teleport, or even that she had wings, when she was in a great hurry.

Princess Celestia looked to her white-coated, brown-maned seneschal, Raven Inkwell. «Court is adjourned until tomorrow.»

She turned back to Twilight as Raven echoed her words, loudly, to the room at large and the Guards began ushering ponies out.

The Princess turned her attention to Twilight. «I’ve studied the papers you sent. Have you anything to add?»

Still getting her breath under control, dancing in place in frustration and flexing her wings, Twilight shook her head. «No. No. Nothing more. I’ve gone over the site very carefully, and studied my memories thoroughly. I was holding him against me when he started to slide forward, and then he disappeared. I thought he had just teleported. He’s nowhere to be found. My strongest searching spell returns nothing. And we physically searched all of Ponyville, including your old castle in the Everfree.»

The Princess looked to Raven. «We’ll be back in a moment.»


۸-_-۸


 

Princesses Celestia and Twilight teleported into Ponyville Plaza. There were a few startled screams at the sudden flash of light, then all the ponies in sight began bowing.

«Show me exactly where you were standing, Twilight,» Celestia prompted.

Surprised by the sudden teleport, Twilight took a moment to orient herself. The workers were still cleaning up after the all-night celebration, so it wasn’t difficult to trot over to where she had been standing when Harry disappeared.

She turned in place a moment, then struck a pose. «I was standing exactly like this,» she said, looking at Celestia hopefully.

Ignoring the fawning ponies around her, the Princess’s eyes began to glow and she circled Twilight several times. The only thing she said was, «Don’t move, stay still. Position your wing to where it was when you were holding him.» She glanced all around the area, her horn glowing, looking at things only she could see.

Mayor Mare came galloping out of the Town Offices with several Guards. They rushed up to their ruler, but stopped and stood silent as they saw her concentrating. The Guards quickly understood what she was doing and began to clear the plaza and usher ponies out of the princess’s way. 

The Mayor kept silent, not wanting to interrupt what was obviously a very important activity — normally, the Princess of the Sun would greet everyone and exchange pleasantries before getting down to business. Plus, she would have sent notice, first, and then arrived by Royal Chariot. That the princess didn’t even acknowledge her, the Mayor, further indicated how important their ruler thought what she was doing really was. And she never would have teleported in just before diner time.

Everypony watched as Celestia walked to the edge of the plaza, and again circled Twilight. Guards quickly determined her route and continued to get ponies out of her way as they realized she wasn’t going to go around them. She seemed not to notice anything except whatever it was she was concentrating on seeing. Looking around the plaza and studying Twilight at many different angles. She even took to the air several times,

Her horn glowed different colours at different times, as well.

Finally, she stopped her slow pace circling the plaza, blinked a few times, and walked briskly back to Twilight. «Done,» she said simply. She looked around at the gathering crowd of ponies, many of whom bowed in reflex as her gaze passed over them. «I apologize for interrupting your evening, my little ponies. Thank you for your patience.»

She looked at Mayor Mare, who took a step forward and started to say something.

Princess Celestia smiled warmly. «What I am doing is nothing anypony here needs to concern themselves with, nothing dangerous is about. Please carry on and know that I am pleased with how things are going here in Ponyville.»

The Mayor looked inordinately delighted at the praise as everypony else looked relieved.


۸-_-۸


 

Twilight blinked at the sudden change in light. Both princesses were in the Canterlot Throne Room, again.

Celestia stood quietly, her expression one of contemplation.

By now, all of Twilight’s friends had arrived. Raven had brought out a table, and they were sitting there, enjoying a bit of tea. And regaining their breath. A maid came in with a tray of cake slices.

Finally, Celestia walked over to the table and sat. She lifted her cup of tea and sipped. After setting it back down, she looked over at Twilight, who had been worriedly pacing in a small circle. She now just stared at the Princess, hope evident in her expression.

«Prince Harry Potter Sparkle is no longer here, in Equestria,» she stated simply.

Pinkie Pie gasped dramatically, «He’s been kidnapped by Fizzlepop Berrytwist as part of a nefarious plot by the Storm King?»

Everypony turned and stared at her. Princess Celestia raised an eyebrow in query.

Pinkie blinked and looked at her friends, puzzled at their blank looks.

«No,» Celestia replied calmly. «I mean he is no longer in our world.» She sipped some tea and took a delicate bite of the cake. It was easily half the slice on her plate.

Twilight gasped loudly. The others exchanged worried looks. Pinkie dramatically gasped, again, as well, «His spell went wrong and he’s trapped on Mars with Mark Watney?»

Again, everypony stared at Pinkie, who stared back innocently.

Celestia shook her head and addressed Twilight. «I found fresh traces of his home world’s magic in Ponyville Plaza.» She frowned delicately. «Not quite a teleport. Nor a summoning teleport. Something else entirely.» Her frown deepened. «There wasn’t a dark feel to it, so I don’t believe Harry is in immediate danger.» She looked out the windows and into the distant mountains. «It was almost . . . mechanical in nature. A powerful spell issued by a powerful artefact, perhaps. I could detect neither malice nor kindness in intent, just . . . duty. So,  certainly not anyone seeking to harm him.» 

She looked back at Twilight. «I have a vague direction, but the extra-dimensional magic is unfamiliar to me. I think Starswirl the Bearded did extensive research into dimensional portals, besides the one that Sunset Shimmer used. Perhaps her portal might provide some clues?»

Twilight stared at her wide-eyed, then face-hoofed. «The journal is in my castle in Ponyville.»

Celestia sipped again from her cup. «I will send a Guard to fetch it. And I will consult with Lulu when she wakes, In the meantime, the archives are at your disposal.»

Rarity sighed as she watched her friend gallop out of the room, with Starlight and Trixie right behind her. Spike clung determinedly and precariously to Twilight’s back. The unicorn glanced at the rest of her friends at the table. She looked over to Princess Celestia. «Is there anything we can do to help?»

«Not directly,» the Princess said sadly. «Just provide support.»

«I’ve been meaning to check on the Canterlot store for some time,» Rarity said pensively, looking at her friends from under her eyelashes.

«It wouldn’t hurt to check in our main distributor,» said Applejack, adjusting her hat and then finishing her tea with a single swallow.

«My party supplies do need refreshing,» Pinkie brightly said, «And the Cakes have been insisting I take some time off.»

Fluttershy looked up through her fringe and murmured, «I would like to check in on my little friends in the Royal Garden . . . .»

There was silence for a moment. The four friends turned to look at the fifth, who hovered by and stared out windows at the clouds. Once more, she was clearly lost in a day-dream.

Rarity loudly cleared her throat.

«Hm? What?» Dash said glancing back and around the room. 

«Don’t you have something you’d like to do while we’re in Canterlot?»

The blue pegasus looked surprised for a moment. «Oh, yeah,» she said enthusiastically, «I’ve been meaning to take a look at the new training facilities for the Wonderbolts. They’re almost finished, now.» 

Applejack face-hoofed.

Princess Celestia laughed softly. «I believe there is a cake with my name on it waiting for me in the kitchens, would you like to join me?» She finished off the slice on her plate, and delicately downed her tea. She rose to her hooves and quickly trotted from the room, followed by her Guards and the remaining Mane Six.


۸-ꞈ-۸


 

The trip to the Headmaster’s Office was quick. As soon as he arrived, Dumbledore introduced him to a very short Professor Flitwick and a stout Professor Sprout. To his immense surprise, Harry found that when he was on two hooves he was almost a full head taller than Professor Flitwick.* In fact, even if he were on all fours, Harry thought the wizard would barely be taller than him. Professor Sprout, on the other hoof, was only a bit taller than he was. He jumped up and sat down on one of the chairs, as he had the previous night, only this time by the windows.

The Headmaster and Professors Snape, McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout, and Moody quickly took seats in chairs across from him that were arranged in a semicircle. They were seated around a low circular table. 

“Well, Harry,” the Headmaster started, “Would you mind telling us how you ended up in Equestria?” They looked at him expectantly.

Harry stared at the group. He took a deep breath, and started channelling Blueblood. “First, Headmaster Dumbledore,” he said in the most cultured tone he could manage, “my name is Prince Harry Sparkle. I must insist you address me properly. I don’t know you, and I haven’t given you leave to use my first name. Now, if I were a student here, it might be proper to address me as Mr. Sparkle, and the professors and Prefects have been doing that.” He nodded at the professors in the room.

“On the other hoof, I am not in your school, and loose formality is not appropriate.” He regretted having used so much magic earlier. At least he didn’t have a hornache.

Professor Snape shifted in his seat and stared at Harry disdainfully. Then he said in soft, silky voice, “How particularly like your father you are, Potter . . . . He, too, was so very conceited. The apple did not fall far from the tree, I see.”

Harry stared at the wizard and raised an eyebrow. “Since he died when I was fifteen months old, I remember neither how he looked nor how he acted,” Harry said politely. “I will have to take your word for that.”

He narrowed his eyes as he continued to stare at Professor Snape. “I can assure you, however, that before I found myself in Equestria my relatives would have beaten me quite thoroughly if I had in any way acted arrogant — or even merely competent — so your criticism is quite unfounded.” He didn’t miss the way Professor McGonagall had stiffened at the word beaten. 

“It is a fact that I am the adopted son of Princess Twilight Sparkle, and thus a part of the royal family of Equestria. Everything I say and do reflects on the Royal Family at large. I have been instructed on how to conduct myself to bring honour to my position, and that I should not tolerate others demeaning or belittling my station through either their words or conduct. After all, it is to the rank that one bows, not the pony, thus any insults are to the Royal family as a whole and not myself.

“That you might interpret such conduct as arrogance shows your ignorance of proper protocol when dealing with a Royal.” Stupid wizard. He smiled. “As your training was obviously substandard in that regard, I cannot hold that against you.”

Professor Snape straightened and leaned slightly forward. His face coloured red, and set into an expression of outrage. Professor Moody snorted, and looked highly amused, as did Professor Flitwick. Professors McGonagall and Sprout merely looked shocked.

“Severus,” the Headmaster said quietly.

Harry could see the man gritting his teeth as he sat back in his chair and continued to glare at the unicorn.

“However, as you only have my word for that,” Harry continued in the same polite and calm manner, “I accept you are reluctant to address me thusly. In view of the fact that I was drawn here against my will, I expect you to treat me as you would any other visiting student to your school.”

There was a moment’s silence as they digested what he had said.

The Headmaster nodded agreeably. “Of course, Mr. Potter.”

Harry gritted his teeth. “Mr. Sparkle, if you please,” he said firmly. “As your heredity test showed last night, my family name is now Sparkle.”

The Headmaster nodded again. “My apologies, Mr. Sparkle,” he said. He studied the young pony for a moment. “Now, then, as I said before, would you be so kind as to tell us how you ended up in Equestria?”

Harry looked down at the table for a minute and composed himself. It had taken years of therapy and counselling for Harry to talk about his relatives calmly, and that day in particular. “There’s really not much I can tell you about that, except I was nine when it happened, in the early autumn of 1989,” he started placidly, and kept a tight rein on his emotions.


۸-ꞈ-۸


 

Dudley landed one last kick on Harry’s arse. “There,” he said with deep satisfaction, “Mom warned yeh ‘bout getting better grades on a test than me!”

Harry had known he would be in trouble the moment the teacher had handed him his test. He had seen his score of C-minus, and had known that Dudley had gotten a D.

Normally, he would have immediately set out for Number Four when school let out, and known that Dudley and his gang could never catch up in time. He’d still get a whipping from his uncle, but at least that wouldn’t be on top of what Dudley would try to do if he caught Harry.

But the teacher had decided to have “words” with Harry about his “inattentiveness” in class.

As a result, Dudley and his gang had ambushed Harry just as he was crossing the Little Whinging playpark. He had almost escaped them, except Malcom had already gone around to the other side of the playpark, and ambushed him. And thus, his current position on the ground just outside the official playpark and behind some trees.

Harry gritted his teeth and tried to breathe as shallowly as possible. For some reason they were being a bit more vicious, this time. Usually, they just punched him a few times, knocked him down, maybe kicked him once or twice.

In the end, Harry decided, it didn’t matter if it was problems at their homes or school, they were just taking their frustrations out on him. Or, more likely, they just liked doing those things to others, and they knew they could get away without penalty if they did them to him. He would have to bear with it as best he could. 

“Let’s dump ’im in tha pond!” said Piers.

At first, they were excited at the prospect. Piers and Dennis began dragging him through the forest, by his feet. They deliberately went over as many rocks and tree-roots as they could, laughing each time his head bounced on the ground. The trip was punctuated by Gordon, Malcom, or Dudley giving him the occasional kick. When he tried to protect his head, it was his sides they kicked. And vice versa. Great fun — for them.

Watching him writhe in pain made them laugh uproariously. It wasn’t long, however, before he could hear some grumbling. Finally, the two dragging him dropped his legs to the ground.

“That’s good enough,” Dudley said, with a last kick at Harry’s head.

Dudley laughed. “And I’ll just tell the ’rents that you had a falling out with your ‘gang’ and they beat ya up. And dad’ll whip ya again, fer being in a gang!”

Harry heard them walking away, discussing how much fun it had been to beat up Harry and who they were going to harass next. He just stayed quiet and tried to catch his breath.

When he finally started seriously to think about getting up, it was late in the afternoon, and starting to get dark. He hurt everywhere. At least nothing was broken. He knew that feeling well enough.

His glasses, by some miracle, had managed to stay with him. And the tape across their bridge had held. He wouldn’t have put it past Dudley to throw them away out of pure spite. But even wearing them left everything a bit out of focus, like there were two of everything, just slightly offset from one another. Blinking hard didn’t fix it.

Getting to his feet was a major accomplishment, he felt, and took much longer than it should. His sides and stomach really hurt. He wasn’t sure where he was, but it had to be close to Number Four Privet Drive. He couldn’t stay here, though. He had to go “home.”

He couldn’t stay out all night, even if he might prefer it. His . . . relatives . . . got upset if he stayed out too late. Neighbours might talk if anyone saw him out alone late at night. It might ruin the Dursely façade of a perfectly normal family — although how they managed reconcile that with their telling everyone he was a dangerous delinquent always left him puzzled. Surely the neighbours could see the contradiction? 

He just wished that there was somewhere else besides the Dursleys’ he could go. Miss Figg, his sometimes babysitter was right out. She’d just bang him straight to the Dursleys. He wanted somewhere where he didn’t sleep in a cupboard under the stairs, somewhere where he wasn’t punished for things he didn’t understand, or for getting a better grade than his lazy and fat cousin. Somewhere where he was safe — or at least as safe as everyone else. Somewhere where he could belong. Somewhere where he was considered normal.

He wasn’t making fast progress as he staggered from tree to tree. The world swam around him alarmingly, and made it difficult to keep to the same direction. Fallen tree limbs and trunks that blocked his path complicated things. He stumbled frequently and fell almost as often, and each time it was harder to get up. He was feeling sick to his stomach, too. One too many kicks, he fuzzily decided. Surely he should have come across a street by now, right?

He lurched from the current tree supporting him towards the next but somehow missed it. That was particularly painful for some reason, and he rolled across the forest floor. He could no longer stand upright and had to push forward on his hands and knees. Funny that, he couldn’t feel his fingers anymore. Actually, it felt more like he was crawling on only his middle fingers.

Vaguely, he knew something was very wrong, but it was becoming harder and harder to concentrate. And now there were three of everything. He definitely should have crossed a street by now. Even if he had gone in the wrong direction, he still should have stumbled onto a street or path of some kind. But the light was getting brighter ahead. Eventually he found himself on the edge of a field. He must have gone the wrong direction, passed through the Green Zone, and stumbled into one of the farms in the area. And hadn’t it been almost dark a few minutes ago? Or had the darkness in the forest fooled him into thinking it was later than it really was?

He collapsed as he reached the edge of the forest. Standing again was right out. In fact, he couldn’t even push himself up enough to crawl on his hands and knees. He started dragging himself forward, pushing, kicking, with his legs. If he got into the field, out from under the trees, maybe someone would see him — the grass didn’t seem to be all that high, he could almost see over it.

He liked the spring smell around him — moist soil and crushed grass. A good, earthy smell. The sun warm on his side. It was just the right place for a nap.


۸-_-۸