30

Like Flying

There’s a way of running that’s so fast it’s like flying, with feet just accidentally hitting the ground. Celia flew down the road while her mind reached back toward the empty restaurant where Demetri and Daisy fought. She ran one block, and then two more, before she was able to slow down and look behind her. If she concentrated and clenched all her muscles, she could force herself to walk, not jog.

I need to go back to them, she thought. Demetri and Daisy were trapped. Krawl was coming for them. But no matter how she gritted her teeth and stomped her feet into the ground, she couldn’t make her body turn around. The spell dragged her forward and away from them.

The streets were mostly empty around this part of Finney Port, but an old woman in dark glasses hobbled down the road. She paused and leaned on her white cane as Celia passed. “Are you troubled, child? Do you need help?” she asked with a watery voice.

Celia didn’t know how to answer that as she hurried on. From somewhere many blocks behind her, a scream pierced the air. Was it Demetri? Daisy? Or, hopefully, the monster?

Another block gone, and she tried with all her will to turn around again. And for half a second she stopped walking, but then her body propelled her forward.

The frigid morning air seeped through her clothes, and Celia drew the soft hood of her Little sweatshirt over her head. Where should she go now? The safest place was probably back to the Littles’ warehouse. She laughed. The safest place was the one full of Littles who could turn her into a monster with one touch? Great.

Or there was the cathedral. The hunters would show up there eventually. But would they help her or hurt her? Maybe, since she’d escaped the Bigs, they would be nice again. Or maybe they’d force her to eat their spelled sleeping coin.

So that left one place to go. Celia walked fast—she couldn’t help it. She went out of the port neighborhood and through a fancy, hilly neighborhood called Green Slopes and then through downtown. Celia felt tiny as she walked between the giant office towers where scattered shards of mirrored glass littered the ground. The roads were buckled and curved. Celia passed blocks of ruined roads clotted with white snakeskins. She walked until she stood in front of her apartment building.

She looked up at the windows of her living room. Someone had pulled the curtains closed. She knew she’d left them open.

What if Celia’s parents had found a way home? What if they were up there right now waiting for her, and when she opened the door she could get to be a kid again? She could tell them everything, and they would help her figure out the right things to do. They’d figure out a way to keep everyone safe.

Celia ran up the seven flights of stairs until she stood, breathless, in front of her door. It was open a crack, and that had to be good. Except . . . the dead bolt was busted and the door was tilted off its frame. Maybe her parents lost their keys and had to force their way in?

“Mom? Dad?” Hope fluttered in her chest as she pushed the door open. Unease gnawed at her belly. What if it wasn’t them?

“Celia!” said a familiar voice. “You’re back!”