The Bridge to Never Land

by Dave Barry

“Like, flying?” said Sarah.

  “Yes!” said the woman. “Did you see them?”

  “Of course not,” said Sarah.

  The couple passed; Sarah and Aidan started walking again. On the sidewalk ahead another figure was approaching. Too late, Aidan saw who it was: the elderly man. Aidan turned his head away, but as bad luck would have it they were directly under a streetlight; the man had gotten a clear view of him. Blocking their path, he pointed a wavering finger at Aidan.

  “You!” he said. “You were flying!” The man raised his voice to the others, now at the end of the block.

  “Here they are!” he shouted. “I found them!”

  “Come on,” said Sarah, grabbing Aidan’s arm. They sprinted past the man to the end of the street and turned left. They heard shouts but did not look back. Thirty seconds later, gasping for breath, they ducked into the Cadogan lobby. They strode briskly to the elevators and boarded one. As the doors closed they peered out anxiously, but there was nobody pursuing them.

  “Man,” said Aidan, slumping against the side of the elevator.

  “Wasn’t that great?” said Sarah, her eyes shining.

  “Parts of it,” said Aidan. He tried to rise off the elevator floor and found that he could not. “Mine wore off, too,” he said.

  “We’ll have to keep that in mind next time.”

  “So we’re going to fly again?”

  “Of course. Don’t you want to?”

  “Yeah, but…”

  “But what?”

  “I’m not sure. I mean, the starstuff is amazing and everything, but I dunno if we should be messing with it.”

  Sarah was about to answer when the elevator doors opened. They tiptoed down the hallway past their parents’ room. Sarah, grateful that she’d kept her key card in her jeans pocket, quietly opened the door to their room. Slipping inside, they immediately felt the warmth of the starstuff and heard the pleasant musical sound. Sarah went to the golden box on the bed and, somewhat reluctantly, turned the little wheel clockwise. The glowing hole went dark; the sound and the warmth went away. Both Sarah and Aidan suddenly noticed that the room was chilly. Cold air was pouring in through the open window.

  Sarah walked toward the window to close it. As she reached it, she saw something just outside.

  Then she screamed.

  CHAPTER 9

  THE BLACK WIND

  SARAH TOOK A STEP BACK, her mouth open, her face frozen in fear.

  “What?” said Aidan, moving up behind her.

  Sarah, unable to speak, pointed out the window. Aidan looked, and suddenly stopped.

  “What is that?” he said.

  It was as if a curtain had fallen outside, blotting out the lights of the buildings across the street. But it was no curtain.

  It was ravens.

  There were hundreds of them, big ones, their bodies two feet long, their wings stretching as much as four feet from tip to tip. The roar of their beating wings filled the air as they whirled and fluttered like a black wind.

  They were coming toward the hotel.

  “Close the window!” shouted Aidan, startling Sarah out of her trance. They both lunged forward, Sarah grabbing the left windowpane as Aidan grabbed the right. They pushed them closed, but before they could latch them the mass of birds reached the panes and pushed against them with surprising force, opening a space between the two windows. Sarah and Aidan pushed back, closing the gap a bit, but not enough to prevent three of the birds from getting partway through the opening. Rather than try to free themselves, the birds lunged at Sarah’s and Aidan’s hands with their curved, sharp-pointed black beaks. The other ravens hurled their bodies against the windows, which shuddered with the impact. The hotel room echoed with the birds’ harsh cries: Caw! Caw! Caw!

  “Don’t let go!” Sarah shouted, shifting her hands to avoid the savage pecks of the three wild-eyed ravens.

  “Take my side!” Aidan said. “I’ll try to push them out!”

  Sarah knelt to avoid the trapped birds and put her right hand on the frame of the window Aidan had been holding, leaning with her full weight to hold both windows closed.

  “Can you hold it?” Aidan asked.

  “I think so.”

  Aidan tried letting go; Sarah was okay, at least for the moment. He turned and grabbed a pillow from the bed, then shoved it against the three pecking birds, covering them. One by one he shoved his fist against them, forcing them outside.

  “Now!” he shouted as he pushed the last one through the opening. Sarah slammed the window closed and Aidan quickly latched it. The birds were still swarming outside, their bodies thudding into the window. But the glass, and the latch, seemed to be holding.

  Sarah looked at Aidan and said, “What was—”

  Caw!

  The sound came from behind them.

  They turned to see a raven perched on the desk. It raised its huge wings and launched itself directly at them. Acting on reflex, Aidan swung the pillow hard, baseball-bat style, catching the raven just as it reached them. The raven slammed into the wall and bounced off onto the bed, stunned.

  Aidan grabbed the bottom corner of the bedspread. “Get the other side!” he said.

  Sarah took the other bottom corner and they pulled the bedspread toward the headrest, covering the raven. As it began to thrash around, they quickly folded the bedspread to trap it inside.

  “Now what?” said Sarah.

  “Out the window?”

  “Are you kidding me? We are not opening the window.”

  “Well, we can’t keep this thing as a pet.” Aidan looked toward the window. “Anyway, I think they’re gone.”

  Sarah looked out. Aidan was right: she didn’t see the ravens.

  “Okay,” she said. “But really fast.”

  “Really, really fast,” agreed Aidan. “You open the windows. I’ll heave it.”

  Sarah put her hands on the window latch and looked out once again to make sure it was clear.

  “Ready,” said Aidan.

  But Sarah, peering through the window, did not open it.

  “Oh, no,” she said softly.

  “What now?” said Aidan, moving to the window, holding the bedspread with the trapped raven struggling inside.

  “They’re still here,” she said, pointing.

  Aidan peered through the glass.

  “What are they doing?”

  The ravens were swirling over the middle of the street, but their movements no longer appeared random. They were flying in distinct, organized patterns now, forming an ever-more-compact mass.

  “Birds don’t do that,” Aidan said.

  “Apparently these birds do,” said Sarah.

  “Well, let’s get rid of this one while they’re away from the window,” said Aidan, struggling to contain the trapped raven, which was moving more frantically, as if it sensed that the others were near.

  Sarah quickly opened the window. Aidan held one edge of the bedspread and pushed the rest out. It unfolded like a flag, and with an angry Caw! Caw! the raven flew free. It headed directly to where the others were massing.

  Aidan was hauling in the bedspread, but his attention, like Sarah’s, was on the birds. “Oh my god,” said Aidan. The ravens had formed a distinct shape. And it was moving their way. “Shut the window!” said Aidan, frantically hauling in the rest of the bedspread.

  Sarah quickly closed the windows and fumbled with the latch, finally getting it secure. She and Aidan stared as the bird shape grew closer, now clearly illuminated by the lights of the hotel.

  It appeared to be solid. Somehow the tightly packed ravens appeared to be almost floating, rather than flying; they moved in perfect synchronization, looking like one creature rather than many. It was huge—several stories tall, at least—and it was very clearly defined. It was the shape of a hooded figure, like a monk or priest, with stooped shoulders and wearing a long, black robe.

  Sarah stared at it intently. “I know what that is,” she said softly. “I kno
w who that is.”

  “It’s that guy from the books, isn’t it?” whispered Aidan.

  “Yes,” said Sarah. “It’s him.”

  The figure glided toward them. As it drew near the window it raised its head, and from under the hood appeared two red orbs, like huge glowing coals.

  “Oh my god,” said Aidan.

  He and Sarah stood still, frozen in fear and fascination, as the hideous form came toward them. It was only a few yards from the window now, the red orbs at the level of their window.

  “What does he want?” whispered Aidan.

  “I don’t know,” Sarah answered. The shape stopped coming forward. There was movement to one side and an armlike form appeared, with long spindly fingers at the ends. The arm shape moved; now it was just outside the window, nearly touching it.

  “Do you feel that?” whispered Aidan.

  Sarah did feel it—a sickening chill seeping through her body. Suddenly, she knew what was happening. “Down!” she yelled, pushing her brother toward the floor and diving next to him.

  “What are you—”

  “It wants our shadows! We have to turn out the lights! Now!”

  There were two lights—the overhead light and the lamp on the table between the beds. Aidan dove toward the lamp while Sarah scrambled across the floor to the light switch by the door. In seconds the lights were off; the room was dark.

  Sarah and Aidan looked toward the window. The two red orbs were there, very close now, each nearly filling a window frame. Neither Sarah nor Aidan took a breath.

  And then the orbs were gone.

  For a moment the room was silent.

  They jumped at a sound from the door. It was a key card being inserted into the lock. The door opened. It was their father.

  “What’s all the noise about?” he said. He stepped into the room and, by the light from the hallway, saw his children lying on the floor in the darkened room.

  “What on earth?” he said.

  “Excellent question,” mumbled Aidan.

  Tom reached for the light.

  “No lights!” exclaimed Sarah, startling her father. “Sorry, Dad. We’re, ah, we’re playing a game.”

  “What game?” said Tom.

  “It’s, um, complicated,” said Sarah.

  “You wouldn’t believe how complicated it is,” said Aidan.

  “Well, whatever it is, it’s time to stop it and go to sleep,” said Tom.

  “Yes, Dad,” said Sarah.

  “I’m never gonna sleep again,” said Aidan, mostly to himself.

  “Early start tomorrow,” said Tom, closing the door. The room was dark again.

  Aidan and Sarah rose and went to the window. They could see the lights across the street again. The sky was empty; the ravens were gone.

  They stood there for a few seconds, peering into the night. Aidan broke the silence.

  “Didn’t Ombra die?” he said.

  “Apparently not,” said Sarah. “He’s very hard to kill. He keeps…coming back.”

  “As a bunch of birds?”

  “You saw the same thing I saw.”

  Aidan shuddered. “I wish I hadn’t,” he said. “So how did he find us? Why did he find us?”

  “The ravens at the Tower. Remember?”

  “Yeah.”

  “We unlocked the gold box with the starstuff from the sword. They must’ve felt that—felt the starstuff. That’s why they were waiting for us when we came out.”

  “But these weren’t the same birds—the Tower ravens can’t fly.”

  “Then they must be able to communicate. Somehow they told the other ravens.”

  “Talking birds?”

  “Those aren’t normal birds.”

  “No kidding.”

  Sarah looked hard at her brother. “They’re him, Aidan,” she said. “Lord Ombra.”

  “But how can that be? I mean, you saw…it’s birds.”

  “Maybe each raven is a piece of him. Put the ravens together and…”

  “That’s crazy.”

  “It’s not crazy. You saw it. They turned into him. And he nearly got us. The light was coming from behind us, and he was touching our shadows. You felt it, right?”

  Aidan nodded. “I don’t ever want to feel that again,” he said.

  They were both quiet for a while; then Aidan said what they were both thinking.

  “He doesn’t want us, Sarah. He wants the box. He wants the starstuff. That’s what brought him here.”

  Sarah nodded.

  “Which means,” Aidan continued, “that he’ll come back. As long as we have the starstuff, he’ll keep coming back.”

  Sarah nodded again.

  “So maybe we should just let him…”

  “No,” said Sarah, shaking her head. “We can’t give it to him.”

  “But he’s—”

  “He’s evil, Aidan. He’s evil, and if he gets the starstuff, he’ll use it to do evil things. People died to protect that star-stuff from him. We can’t let him have it.”

  “So what do we do?”

  Sarah looked down. “I don’t know,” she whispered.

  “Great,” said Aidan.

  They sat in silence for a minute. Again it was Aidan who spoke, and again he said what they were both thinking.

  “I wish we’d never found that stupid piece of paper,” he said. “Then we’d never have gone to the cave, and we’d never have opened the box. Then none of this would have…”

  He stopped, realizing that Sarah was crying. Her face was buried in her hands; tears dripped through the cracks between her fingers.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice muffled. “It’s my fault.”

  “It’s okay,” he said, giving her shoulder a tentative pat.

  Sarah raised her head and looked at him. Her cheeks were tear-streaked; her eyes were red and filled with despair.

  “No it’s not,” she said. “It’s not okay at all.”

  CHAPTER 10

  “WE DON’T KNOW ANYTHING”

  SARAH AND AIDAN WERE BEYOND TIRED, but sleep didn’t come easily; they both kept glancing toward the window, although there was never anything there. Finally, exhaustion overcame fear, and they slept.

  They awoke to the sound of their father’s voice through the door, informing them they’d be eating breakfast in half an hour. It was just past eight o’clock; sunshine streamed through the window that, only hours earlier, had been a gateway for terror. Sarah sat on her bed staring at the golden box, which rested on the nightstand next to the stack of books. Aidan stumbled into the bathroom, emerging a few minutes later with a stream of toothpaste dribbling from the corner of his mouth. Sarah had not moved.

  “I’ve been thinking about what we should do with it,” he said.

  “Me too,” she said.

  “I think we need to give it to the police.”

  Sarah turned to her brother. “No,” she said.

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t trust the police.”

  “Why not?”

  “They could be in on it. They could be working for…” She nodded toward the window.

  “Why would you think that?”

  Sarah gestured toward the books. “Because the police were in on it before. Anybody could be in on it.”

  “Those are stories, Sarah.”

  “And so far they’ve turned out to be true.”

  “Good point. But we don’t know the police are involved.”

  “We don’t know anything,” said Sarah. “Which is why we have to be very, very careful about what we do with the box.”

  “Maybe we should give it to Dad and Mom.”

  “I thought about that, too,” said Sarah. “But two things. One, they’d be really mad at us for sneaking off to the caves and all—we’d be grounded for a minimum of forever. And two, they’d probably give the box to the police.”

  “But we could tell them about the birds, about…Ombra.”

  Sarah looked at her brother. �
��Do you think they’d believe it? Would you believe it? That some evil creature from a storybook has taken the form of a flock of birds?”

  Aidan hesitated, then quietly said, “No.”

  “Exactly,” said Sarah. “They’d send us to a shrink. And there’s one more thing.”

  “Which is?”

  “We have starstuff, Aidan. We can fly. It was amazing, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I want to fly again. And who knows what else we can do with it?”

  “If Ombra doesn’t get us, you mean.”

  “Well, now we know he’s out there,” said Sarah. “So we’ll be ready.”

  “Ready how?”

  “I’m working on that part.”

  Aidan rolled his eyes and was about to say something when there was another tap on the door.

  “Let’s go, kids!” said Tom.

  “Coming,” said Sarah. She rose and picked up the golden box.

  “What’re you going to do with that?” whispered Aidan.

  “Hide it,” said Sarah, looking around the room. Her eyes fell on the cabinet that held the television. She went to it and pulled the TV out and sideways a few inches, making an opening just big enough for the box. She slid it into the cabinet and pushed the TV back into place.

  “C’mon, kids!” said Tom.

  “Okay, okay!” said Sarah, opening the door. She and Aidan followed Tom and Natalie down the hallway to the elevators, passing a man in a hotel uniform and overcoat carrying a room-service tray. As they boarded an elevator, Tom was enthusiastically discussing the day’s sightseeing options; Aidan and Sarah were silent.

  “What’s wrong with you two?” Natalie asked.

  “Nothing,” said Sarah. “Tired, I guess.”

  “Me too,” yawned Aidan.

  “Really?” said Natalie. “You two went to bed plenty early last night.”

  “I had trouble sleeping,” said Sarah. “Bad dreams.”

  “Me too,” said Aidan. “Terrible dreams.”

  Natalie shook her head. “You kids have hyperactive imaginations,” she said. “You’re in London, on vacation, with your parents, in a nice hotel. What on earth is there to be afraid of?”

  Aidan and Sarah looked at each other, but said nothing.