essere attenti a ciò che desideri

[bossymarmalade]

Clark is sorting through a pile of clothes and small tools on his bed in the bunkhouse when Kyle enters. “Good morning,” he smiles at the younger man as he finishes folding a pair of plaid poplin shorts. “Doing okay? I heard Cass came back to camp last night.”

Though rested and eaten and showered, Kyle still drags his feet when Clark beckons him into the room. He rubs the side of his face with his palm, distorting his face up and down. “Morning. Is it morning still?” Kyle asks, almost himself. “I’m okay. And yeah - Cass came back for Steph’s birthday…” Kyle smiles in recollection, even if his logic isn’t quite sound. “Steph won’t leave her side now, and I don’t blame them for being two little Batgirls in a pod. But anyway - you, ah, you wanted to talk to me last night though. What’s up?”

Clark gestures for Kyle to sit in the hard-backed chair by the desk in the middle of the room, and he sits on the end of his bed himself to face him. “Bruce and I were going to leave today to look for Zee. We planned on scouting out behind the Persian terminal, to the northwest. But he has things to take care of here—” he averts his eyes for a second, not certain who knows about Kate’s pregnancy and knowing it’s not his place to share the news “—and it was your ring that was on Zee’s pillow when I woke up and found her missing. I think you and I need to look for her, together. I think… I think we won’t find her any other way.”

"Oh. Uh…" Kyle rubs his hands along his thighs as he sorts through what Clark is saying, discarding some of it for now. So much has been happening, non-stop surprise after horror after terror, it’s hard to just take a breath and let it all sink it. Maybe he shouldn’t, though. Maybe he should just get things done. Maybe processing things was what hurt people. Maybe it was all about just going and going and going. Maybe…Kyle blinks, realizing he’d been sitting there for a good minute, not saying anything; just running his hands up and down his thighs. He stands up and smacks his hands together. "Okay, Clark. You and me. Well - let’s get going. Um. But where are we going to go, anyway?"

Clark is patient, not prompting Kyle as he languishes into silence. He watches him, hands on the knees of his jeans, and doesn’t move until the young man finally speaks. “Thank you.” He stands and gives Kyle’s shoulder a firm squeeze. “I don’t know for certain. We’ll head toward the Persian and see what we find beyond it. I just know I’m not returning without her. You may want to pack a few things. I found a shoulder-bag in the attic— we should be able to carry whatever we need for both of us in it.

"But bring your ring, if nothing else."



Kyle nods, and fetches things on automatic; he’d seen Steph and Mar’i packing for expeditions and so he’s got something of an idea now. Kyle gets canteens with water, - two, filling them in the garden hose outside. He gets a length of rope, one that looks used, but retied rather precisely and hung back up in the garden shed. He finds a flashlight, studying the end of it to see if there is any blood flecks. It’s clean though, and smells faintly of bleach. He doesn’t bother with weapons; Clark will have whatever he needs and Kyle wouldn’t know how to handle any weapon. Kyle also gets two baseball caps, handing one over to Clark once Kyle meets up with him again.

"It’s pretty hot outside," Kyle informs him, nudging the cap into Clark’s hands. "And Clark - I don’t know why you’re asking just me to come find your wife, but - thank you. It’s probably been nerve-wracking, a week and still not able to find her. But we will. We have to, right? Superman and Green Lantern? The better question is: what can’t we do?” He can’t help but laugh, tacking on. “Yeah. More likely she’ll find us.”

Clark waits for Kyle on the lane outside the longhouse, his own bag packed with an extra change of clothing, the red shoes he’d found when they first arrived in camp, the apple with its gingham ribbon, and a few sleeves of crackers and dried fruits. He gathers the largest kitchen knife he can find and wraps it in a towel to stow atop his other supplies, and he shoulders one of the bows Ollie made when he searches the garden shed. He’s a miserable shot, despite Ollie, Mia and Roy’s efforts to teach him and his eagerness to comply with their guidance, but he hopes if he needs to use it, luck will be on his side. Luck or Zee, somewhere out there waiting, her words ready to blossom with power at the most opportune moment. It was the way things worked here, wasn’t it? He doesn’t focus on everything that’s gone wrong— he thinks instead of magic rains and healing apples, of blessings granted to them in moments of utter desperation.

His smile is much broader when Kyle gives him the hat, and he proudly wedges it onto his head. “Good idea. I asked you to come because I know that’s what she would want. It has been difficult, yes, but I know she’s out there and she’s okay. We’ll be okay, too.” He begins walking ahead on the path that forks, taking the left lane that leads toward the Persian. “You’re probably right. She’ll see us coming long before we see her.”

Kyle is more looking up at Clark, than where they are headed. “How do you do that? How do you make everything sound like it’s gonna be okay? I can’t keep it up, I’ve lost hope so many times I’ve lost count. Hell, even Dick ‘springbird’ Grayson’s lost his ability to sing, it seems,” Kyle marvels, purposely using Clark’s nickname for Dick. “That’s what I’ve been worrying about the most, y’know? Since Zee’s been gone. I know she’s not dead, but I keep wondering if she’s lost hope. If she just stopped fighting. I’d hoped love would keep —” Kyle cuts himself off, and focuses on their path. The grass seems taller and denser around them, getting higher than Clark, almost. Kyle doesn’t remember it like this last time he’d walked to Persian; but instead of pointing it out, he says, “Apparently Zach got some of his powers back too. We all have been - me, Mar’i, Zach. You…” Kyle knuckles his chest, the GL ring bouncing on its string necklace.

Clark chuckles deep in his chest. “Is that how it seems? I do lose hope sometimes too, you know. I lie in my bed at night without her there and think about facing a lifetime of her not being there. But then I think back to all the times in my life when things have seemed so desperate before though— and there have been many, with our line of work,” he adds, gripping Kyle’s shoulder in a moment of solidarity as they walk, knowing he’s suffered gruesome losses in his young life. “The tide always turned at some point. Not always when I wanted it to, but when it needed to, and that’s why I’m still here today. I can only work with what’s in my control, and I have to trust that something greater than myself will see to everything that isn’t. It’s in my power to look for Zee, but I can’t do anything more about what state she’ll be in when we find her than to believe that she’ll be safe and whole. Faith is the best I can offer on that end, and I know she deserves it.”

Clark veers to the northwest when they reach the fork in the lane, taking the path that leads to the Persian terminal. “It’s not always easy,” he admits in a lower tone, adjusting the brim of his hat to block the last rays of the sunset beaming from the west. “I haven’t had any resurgence of my powers since the night of the fi— well, no. I think I may have frozen a tree trunk with my breath one day when walking in the woods, but I’m not certain. Have you used your ring any since I first gave it to you?”

”No, not the ring. But I’ve used the magical Lantern powers that Jenny gave me, be- before she died. I hadn’t used those since I was Ion,” Kyle says shortly. Not only because it’s not something he cares to elaborate on (not right now) but because he’s distracted by their surroundings. The grass is too tall, the path isn’t that usual familiar yellow gravel. It’s a dark, charcoal grey. Kyle reaches out without looking, his fingers brushing along Clark’s forearm, both to quiet and still him. The Lantern looks behind them - tall, tall stalks of thick grass. The fork in the path is gone; the way back to Cachement is no longer there. The only way is forward. “I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore.”

Clark Kent doesn’t press the issue of the powers Kyle has used in the week that’s passed since they first discovered the ring. He halts when Kyle’s touch alerts him, head whirling about in all directions like he thinks they’ve only misplaced the lane, only become disoriented somehow— it can’t just be gone. His dismay comes to an abrupt end when Kyle references his home state, however, and he laughs. “Been awhile since I’ve been in Kansas. I don’t have any intention of turning back now, anyhow.” He carries onward, eyes catching movements in the darkling wood but unable to trace their source. There are only trees surrounding them, tall, thick clusters of them, and their limbs sway at unnatural angles as if they’re human arms. Clark thinks he’s only imagining it until the first apple is hurtled from the forest and pings him in the temple, knocking him askew to stumble into Kyle. When the fruit hits the dirt at their feet, its skin is a rich, glossy shade of black, shining like a jewel in the gathering twilight.

Kyle chuckles a bit, because - oh yeah right, Clark really was from Kansas. “I just wish we didn’t lose our yellow brick road. Unless…whatever they are know we’re trying to find her?” The idea is too seductive to contemplate for long, especially when he hears Clark bark out in protest, his larger frame come stumbling dizzied towards Kyle. Instinctively Kyle holds out his arms and braces, but Clark has too much momentum and they both hit the ground. The path is now covered from a hail of the dark glossy fruit, but it squishes as they fall, releasing an almost sickeningly sweet scent that gets into their clothes. “Jesus what the hell—?!” Kyle says, crawling out from under Clark, his hands sliding around in the pulpy muck.

His hand comes in contact with something hard and firm. It’s a foot, Kyle realizes, and he slowly looks up. The foot belongs to a person, leaning into the arms of one of the dark, gnarled trees. The person wears patent leather shoes, and a beautiful, impeccable tuxedo. In fact, the person zirself is beautiful, more gorgeous that Kyle has ever seen in his life; and he’s seen a lot of beautiful creatures in his life. Zie nonchalantly nibbles on one of the rot-sweet fruit and zir mouth quirks in amusement. “Boys, boys,” Zie purrs, voice soft and sweet, like the fruit. “No need to beg…not yet.”

Clark scrambles to his feet and pulls Kyle up alongside him. The aroma of the fruit bleeds into his senses, and he blinks rapidly, trying to bring the person at the base of the tree into focus. Black and white is distinct in his vision, at least, and he thinks of Zee’s standard show outfit. “We’re looking for someone,” he says, cautious but direct. “Have you seen anyone else pass this way?”

Zie makes a moue of pouty disappointment. “Where’s that ol’ country charm, Kal-El of Krypton?” Zie meanders towards him, one precise step in front of the other. Zir face shifts, as Zie flicks back raven locks of hair. Zie runs beautifully groomed fingers down Clark’s barrel chest, from his collarbones down his sternum, walking them along his firm belly, drawing a circle around the skin right above the button of Clark’s jeans. “Who are you looking for exactly, hmm?” And Zie’s face shifts under Clark’s cautious gaze - Zee’s face…then Dick’s…then Kate’s…then Bruce’s. “Maybe you’ve already found your dark-haired beauty, hmm?” Zie turns and smirks at Kyle, who is frozen, absolutely mesmerized. “Or…do you desire another?”

"We…we were headed to the Persian," Kyle says, losing his voice halfway through the sentence, and ending in a whisper. Saying a word as innocuous as ‘Persian’ to this creature suddenly sounds so provocative somehow; and Kyle turns warm under his collar.

Clark catches the slender wrist in one wide hand and removes it from himself, but he’s moving forward again as soon as the face before him shifts into the familiar visage of his wife. “Zee,” he breathes, fingers reach for her, until she vanishes into a slideshow of people he loves, people who are stuck here under the power of these beings. He shakes his head with a groan and backs away, gripping Kyle by the arm— to either hold Kyle steady or keep himself grounded, or both. “We’ll be going now if you can’t help us.”

"Zee," Zie licks zir teeth, as if savoring the name. "Zatanna Zatara. Yes, I know where she is. So how about this…" Zie plucks fruit from a tree - or rather, the trees seem to fall over themselves, eagerly offering up their fruits. Zie selects two, and holds them of the dark, glistening plump fruits out to the two men. "I’ll tell you where she is, if you follow my conditions. You must these first. Then each of you tell me why the other is looking for the Zatara. Do we have a deal?" Zie looks coolly over at the younger man. "Eat up, Green Lantern, and tell me why Kal-El is looking for the Zatara."

Kyle looks over at Clark for a moment, and then pulls free of his grasp, snatching up one of the fruits. He eats it quickly, piercing the soft willing flesh with his teeth and tearing a chunk off. This isn’t like eating his mother’s apple, or even like eating one of his treasured jam tarts. The fruit juices burst in his mouth, more juicy than he’d anticipated; it wets his lips as he chews and drips down the cleft of his palm as he grasps it. But Kyle swallows and eats the rest in two, three gulps. “That’s easy - Kal - Clark’s looking for Zatanna because Clark is her husband. Clark…” Kyle turns away from Zie, looking now just at Clark. “…he loves her, he loves her more than any other person in the world, other than his parents, I suppose. But when it comes to Zee, I think. I think he’d give his life for her, if he could. They need to be reunited, they…” Kyle’s brow slides down, lower on his eyes which widen in turn in pain. “…they belong together. And I believe that as much as Clark does. As much as Zee does too.”

Clark is more hesitant about the fruit than Kyle. He holds it, turns it over in his palm like he can discern what wickedness blossoms in beneath its skin and pulp just by sight alone. He can’t, of course— maybe if his powers were restored, he’d be able to see something buried inside. But as it is, he can only see a potential means for finding Zee in the dark little apple, so he bites into it and knows even as the juice bursts across his tongue that Bruce would knock him out cold for going along with this creature’s demands. Perhaps Ollie would understand. “Kyle is looking for Zee because he’s her friend. No— more than her friend. I know that, I do.” Nectar drips in thick inkblots from the fruit, rolling down his chin despite his efforts to stop it. It splotches on his shirt, dark like blood. “I knew it before I ever admitted it to myself. I was scared of it at first, but not anymore. He’s looking for her because he loves her— differently than me, maybe, but no less. No less. We’re looking for her because she wants both of us to find her.” He drops to one knee as the fruit hits his stomach, heavy, weighing him down even while his head seems to float too high above his shoulders, his mind fogged at the edges.

"Get up, Clark," Kyle says urgently; but he gets down on a knee too, tugging at the other man’s arm, trying to bring him out of this sudden torpor. The fruit seems to be handled worse by Clark - maybe because he was Kyptonian? Kyle has no idea why, but seeing him slump like this is alarming to say the least. His arms slide protectively around the larger man, and Kyle glares up at Zie. "We ate your stupid fruit and answered your questions! And - and I agree with him, I agree with everything he says, so. So?! Tell us where Zatanna is! That’s the deal!" The trees are closing in on them now, as Zie stares down impassively at the two men on their knees before zir.

Clark Kent doesn’t rise yet, but he clings to Kyle’s arm as he looks up to Zie, eyes expectant though his teeth are grit in pain, still stained with the midnight juices of the apple.

Zie comes closer, zir hands reaching out and caressing their faces, tracing thumbs over their lips and brushing over their eyelashes; smooth, matching left and right movements along Clark’s agonized features and Kyle’s defiant ones. “The pair of you. Neither willing to settle for mere flames of a candle. It must be forest fires or nothing, hmm? I saw you burn the world for her, Kal-El.” Zie bends, whispering to them both. “Burn it again. Set the world on fire, and then you’ll find her. But remember one thing when you find her, or she will not wake up otherwise.” Zie’s voice drops even lower, sweetly thick like the fruit, kissing upon their lips. “To wake her, remember this phrase: getting what you want and being happy are two quite different things.”

Clark shakes his head and groans low in his throat because he can’t, he can’t access his powers at will. The fruit churns in his stomach— he can actually feel it sloshing from side to side, the heat of it building deep in his belly. He opens his mouth to object to Zie’s advice, and a column of flame shoots forth from his throat while frosted air explodes in a wide arc from his pupils, both fire and ice surrounding her at once. It’s not right, it’s not right— the elements are there inside him, but they’re being twisted by his indulgence. He continues to cough fire as if he’s a dragon rather than the controlled beams that usually issue from his eyes, shoving Kyle away hard to prevent from burning him.

Zie laughs, high and low and seductive at the same time, luring them, encouraging Clark to light the dark woods with ice and fire. It burns a path, as Zie burns up, disappearing as they watch. The path is illuminated by the moon up above, which is pregnant with pale light that now shines upon them. The forest burns and melts around them.

Kyle is pushed back, watching as Zie disappears, and Clark’s explusion of energy reveals a path…a path to Moon Lake, of all places. At least, Kyle thinks it’s Moon Lake. “Clark. CLARK!” Kyle lurches forward towards him, pushing him down face-forward on the path to stop his eyes and mouth erupting ice and fire. “We have to get out of here - we have to -” It’s freezing cold and smoking hot where they are now, Kyle feels feverish - both shivering and sweating at the same time as he tries to tug Clark to his feet, get them out of the suffocating forest and down, towards the lake. “The Lake! We have to go to - to -the Lake-“

Clark retches as he’s pressed to the ground, but it’s a dry heave— except for two seeds that survive the journey through his flame-filled throat and land there in the dirt under his face. The soil is both scorched and frozen, but the seeds take root immediately. A thick network of vessels springs from each one to embed itself through the ground, and two massive trees sprout and twist around each other to form one, the bark winding skyward to tower miles above the other trees. Clark and Kyle are forced to run forward along the razed path to move out of its way before they’re elevated along with the sprawling branches, the leaves that bud out in an array of colors: violet and gold and raven, thick long tendrils of growth like multi-faceted strands of hair. It grows so high that Clark feels certain it can be seen from the camp, from anywhere. If nothing else, it effectively blocks them from going anywhere but forward along the path cut by flame and ice.

Clark is able to control himself now that the two seeds have been expelled, though his eyes still ice over and he coughs plumes of smoke as they run.

Kyle runs, but he lets Clark run ahead after a while, turning backwards himself to gawp at the giant tree…beanstalk…thing​. There’s something about it that makes Kyle want to — but then SPLASH — Kyle’s ended up in the water of the lake. It’s definitely Moon Lake; Kyle can see the double reflection of the moon, as well as the submerged island in the middle of the lake, with the strange structure on it. In the moonlight, the structure looks like it’s twinkling, beckoning them. Kyle bends down and scoops some of the lake water up, splashing it onto Clark’s face, splashing more to wet his icy eyes and quench his smoky mouth. “Are you okay? Are you okay? You did something there, Clark, you made…” Kyle doesn’t know what to look at now: Clark’s face, the beanstalk that reaches the sky, or the alluring box in the middle of the lake. He just half hangs off Clark, splashing and wetting the older man constantly, automated by this point. “Clark…Clark we have to…Clark…” he murmurs endlessly.

Clark puts his arm around Kyle, clinging to him in turn as he peers across the water at the structure that seems to float upright in the middle of the lake. The water soothes the burn in his face and nods his appreciation. “I’m okay,” he assures Kyle, not shifting his line of sight. As he stares, frigid waves burst forth from his eyes again, solidifying a strip of the lake into a thick path of ice that leads directly to the box. “Yes, we have to,” he agrees, and he walks ahead on the ice, shoes slipping on the slick surface.

Kyle stares in wonder at the ice bridge that Clark forms, sliding belatedly after Clark along it. “Are you - you can control it, right? He doesn’t think Clark’s okay at all. Not in the least. But he’s driven towards one thing - that sparkling structure in the water; or rather now it’s perched on ice. It is tall enough for a human to stand in, but not too much else. “I tried to see if I could find a door on it, but there was nothing. Do you have…d you have your x-ray vision? Or your strength? Maybe…” Kyle puts his hands on the box, and it seems to respond to him in the moonlight, lighting up under his hands. Bio-luminescence, reacting to his touch.

Clark touches the box too, circling around it and looking for an opening, a seam, a latch, anything except the smooth sheet of steel that seems to compose the enclosure. The surface doesn’t glow beneath his hands, not the way it does with Kyle’s touch. He steps back and peers intently, trying to access his penetrative vision as Kyle suggests, but it only results in another thin burst of iced air. Splintery icicles bounce from the box and crumble to the frozen bridge beneath it. “I have a feeling fire won’t be effective on it either.” He looks over at Kyle and prompts softly, “Your ring?”

Kyle doesn’t debate it at this juncture; instead, he slips the ring on and pours will into it. Nothing. Kyle screws his mouth to the side, shaking his head and pulling the ring off. He glances at Clark, looking almost as ill suddenly, as Clark had after eating the fruit. “I do have…one other trick up my sleeve.” The Starheart. The gift his Jenny gave him, before she died. Kyle puts his hands on the box again, the surface lighting up once more under his hands. “Hold it too, Clark. Please?” Kyle just feels it will help, as he looks inward on himself, once more seeking the special magical Lantern abilities, that power that held mysticism rather than science. He starts to glow a deep black-green under the moon, and the structure starts to spin under their hands, the sparkles surrounding it whizzing like white streaks of light. Kyle keeps concentrating, but calls out to Clark - “It looks like one of Zee’s disappearing boxes!”

Clark obliges to keep his palms pressed to the box as Kyle requests; he too can see the sense in both of them clutching the box in tandem if it somehow contains Zee. The steel whirs, cold and slick, under his hands as it revolves with the power Kyle is funneling into it. “From her show! Of course. I remember this one. It has a scorch mark from a fire stunt she practiced right—” He looks down as the box spins, bringing a blackened lower corner into view. “Right there! Yes. Zee, Zee!” he calls into the surface, banging his fists on it. It continues to spin as Kyle’s innate light casts bruised green light over the white ice surrounding them. Clark steps back and retrieves the red shoes from his bag, the shoes he found under the bungalow Zee and he shared.

The little house is gone now, but it isn’t important— Zee is his home, his safe harbor, and he holds the shoes high over his head to click their ruby red heels three times. They disintegrate over his head in a shower of prismatic glitter, and Kyle’s ring buzzes with a faint glow as Clark’s arms vibrate with a slow-building tide of strength.

The box comes to an abrupt stop as the red flutters around it, flecked among the wash of black-green. Everything is still for a magical moment, and then one side opens to them both. Inside, like a doll poised in a box, stands Zatanna.

Clark nearly falls to his knees again upon the sight of her. But he makes himself stand tall and smile at her instead as the last flecks of glitter settle. “Hey there, angel.”

Zee is wearing her standard top hat and tails costume from her stage performances. Her face and skin blemish free, and her hair perfectly coiffed for the stage. Inside the box she holds her top hat in her hands, her elbows bent as she carries the it against her chest. Her shoulders gently rise and fall with breath, and her bottom lip curls beneath her top as she bites against it gently, almost nervously. Her eyes remain shut as they squeeze tighter in what appears to be concentration. Despite all her gentle movements she does not make a sound to acknowledge the two.
Kyle stares at her; and even after all this, he’s still feeling suspicious. Is she real? Is she a doppleganger? But then he remembers that phrase, from Zie. Kyle puts a hand at the edge of the box, standing to her side. He leans his head against the edge of the box as well. He can’t keep his eyes off her, as he speaks, slowly but with meaning: “Getting what you want and being happy are two very different things.”

As if on cue Zee’s knees buckle and her eyes pop open. She blinks slowly at Clark and Kyle. Once, twice, three times before she reacts any further. “Oh no.” she mouths, her lip trembling as she looks down into the hat. Her breath catches sharply and her fingers grip tighter about the brim, “I wasn’t supposed to- I…” she’s shaking her head at the both of them, fearing what she wants in that moment is the exact opposite of why they came to find her here, “I was so close. I thought I was so close.”

Kyle reaches in instinctively the moment she moves and looks at them, his hand hovering over her bent arm, ready to help if she feels unsteady. But despite her agitation, Kyle can help smiling at her, widely, in utter relief. “Zatanna…”

Clark absorbs the refrain spoken in Kyle’s voice before he moves to the opposite edge of the opening from the younger man stands. “Zee?” His hand hovers in the expanse of the open lid, just centimeters from her face. But he doesn’t touch her yet, not with her seeming to slowly emerge from some kind of trance. “So close to what? You’ve been gone for a week,” he says, and the steel joint of the box squeals as it crushes beneath his hand. He looks down into the oval pipe of her hat, expecting the answer to lie there inside.

His eyes flicker up to Clark’s hand, seeing the steel warp under it as Clark subconsciously releases a bit of emotion, physically. He shifts a bit, and then looks back at Zee. “We can talk about it later. We need to get you back h - back to town. Away from here. Zee, we need to go.”
Zee stares down at the bottom of her hat sadly till Clark’s hand is crushing against the side of her box. The sound and closeness snap her back to attention. “Okay.” she nods, stepping out of the box complying with Kyle’s request. She looks between Kyle and Clark as if to ask them to lead the way.

Clark lowers his hand from the indention his fingers made in the box. He looks Zatanna over from her feet to her head and back again, but she appears healthy, she appears whole and rested and less worse for wear than he and Kyle after their brief jaunt. Where have you been? he wants to ask, but he says nothing. He closes in on Kyle and Zee alike and wraps one in each arm. And together, they fly— Clark pushes his feet from the ground, and they rocket into the sky, rising alongside the mighty tree that seems to reach the very stars. When they crest above the trees, Clark coughs forcefully, and the third and final seed is expelled from his throat. Rather than plummeting, they descend slowly at an angle over the forest until they touch down in camp. As soon as his feet strike ground again, Clark knows the resurgence of his powers, inverted though some of them were, is gone.

Kyle helps with Clark as they all three return to the Bunkhouse, as the couple’s bungalow is no longer there for them. Kyle insists that Clark and Zee stay in the room beside his, before retiring to his own. “G’night Zee. You better be here tomorrow morning.” Kyle says, noticing that she is still holding her hat close to her. But he’s so tired, he can’t even ask about it. Instead, he hauls himself to his room, and careens onto his bed, falling into a heavy sleep. In his dreams, he sees three moons, all inhabited by rabbits; and above them, Zie watches with cold amusement.