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Book 2: Be Not Afraid

 

Chapter Five: Vastre Hall

 

Cloudy slowly opened her eyes to the dark plane. The seats were upside-down on the ceiling and several people were still strapped in, their heads hanging limply as if they were asleep. Cloudy blinked, wondering if she was losing it. How could this be? What was going on?

Then Cloudy remembered. The plane had crashed and flipped upside-down. No wonder everything was topsy-turvy. She struggled to stand up but couldn’t because she was pinned underneath someone else, but who? Shaking her head and squinting her eyes, she peered more closely at the figure. It was Star.

“Star? Star?” Cloudy gently shook her older sister. “Wake up.”

“Hmmm?” Star murmured drowsily, opening her eyes. “C-Cloudy?”

“Can you get off me, please?”

Star obliged. Crawling to her feet, she grimaced. “Oww, my head and legs hurt.” She took a deep breath and stared at Cloudy. “What happened anyway?”

“We were flying in this plane and someone took over the controls and crashed and flipped it,” Cloudy explained. Then she suddenly looked around in alarm. “Where are my parents? Daddy? Mommy?” she called.

There was no reply.

“Miriam? Nika? Eloise?” Star shouted.

Three girls lying side by side not too far away sat up, their eyes blank and cloudy. “Ugh,” Miriam groaned, putting a hand to her head. “Where are we?”

“We’re in the plane,” Star said.

“What happened?” Nika wondered.

“Some nut crashed us,” Star said in disgust.

“Oh, that explains why this place is a total wreck,” Eloise said, ruefully surveying the snapped seatbelts, the crushed leather from the seats, the shattered windows.

“Guys, do you know where my parents are?” Cloudy broke in.

Eloise and Nika shook their heads, but Miriam frowned. “Wait, I think I know,” she said. “Right after the plane flipped and before I passed out, I saw them crash through the window and fall into the ocean, and that was all I recall.”

Cloudy gasped, shocked by what she had just heard. “I hope they’re okay,” she whispered.

Eloise glanced around. “Where are your brothers, Star?” she asked.

“And Arrow?” Nika chimed.

“And Zach!” Miriam burst out.

Star tramped gingerly over several bodies and finally found her brothers clustered together in the way back of the plane. All were unconscious and their heads were bleeding from a few small gashes.

Star started and retreated slightly. “I found our brothers, Cloudy, but they’re bleeding,” she reported.

“I found Arrow!” Eloise shouted from nearby. “He’s over next to Zach!”

“Are they okay?” Cloudy asked.

“No, they’re knocked out and bleeding too,” Eloise confirmed. “But otherwise, they look fine.”

“Someone find a first-aid kit,” Cloudy ordered. “I’m sure there’s one in the cockpit.”

Miriam’s eyes flashed with fear and she shook her head resolutely. “We’re not going in there!” she exclaimed. “Who knows if that guy’s still in there?”

“We have to take care of out friends!” Cloudy insisted.

At that moment, someone from behind touched Cloudy’s shoulder and scared her out of her wits. She let out a loud shriek and scrambled to hide behind someone’s overturned purse, slamming her head into the wall in the process.

“Good night, Cloudy, calm down!” Meta Knight’s voice issued out of the shadows. “It is only me.”

Cloudy’s head peeked around the edge of the purse. “Oh, Meta Knight, you scared me!” she said.

“I am very sorry about that,” Meta Knight apologized, his voice stricken. “Are you all okay?”

“Aside from being bruised and banged up pretty bad, we’re okay,” Miriam replied.

“But Cloudy’s brothers and Zach and Arrow are bleeding and unconscious and we need to get medical aid for them,” Eloise added. “The trouble is, we’re too scared to go into the cockpit to find a first-aid kit because we don’t know if that guy is still in there.”

Meta Knight shook his head. “I doubt it. He probably jumped ship before the plane crashed.”

“Then where did he go?” Nika asked.

Meta Knight shrugged.

“I’ll get the kit,” Cloudy offered, walking off toward the cockpit.

“Be careful, Cloudy,” Nika begged.

“Why would he do such a crazy thing?” Eloise demanded. “He might have killed us!”

Meta Knight fought to keep the shakiness out of his voice. “Some people in here actually are dead.”

Eloise stared at him, wide-eyed, noting the pain in his eyes. “Y-you mean. . .?”

“This was plain murder,” Meta Knight said gently. He knelt down beside the young girl and looked her in the eye. “No doubt he was out to kill.”

Eloise looked solemn and sad. “All these people—who died exactly?” she whispered.

Eloise felt Meta Knight take her hand. “Come with me and I will show you.”

Eloise sadly listened as Meta Knight pointed out those who had died and explained how they had possibly died. Even a tiny baby was dead.

“Oh—Oh, no. . .” Eloise felt tears sting her eyes and hastily wiped them away with the back of her hand. “Meta Knight, how could anyone be that cruel? That’s just sickening and heartbreaking!”

Eloise couldn’t see Meta Knight’s face in the dusky shadows, but she could feel him trembling. She was worried he might have been traumatized. “I don’t know,” he said. “I just don’t know.”

Eloise leaned her head against his hand. “Are you okay?”

“I-I’m fine.” Meta Knight released her hand and walked off toward one of the broken windows. He stood there a moment, gazing upon the cold, gray ocean coated with a thin layer of ice. Eloise stood where she was, looking upon him sadly, wishing she could help him feel better.

Cloudy then returned with the first-aid kit. “Here it is,” she announced. “Oh, and for the record, that guy’s not in the cockpit anymore. He must have escaped.”

“Yeah,” said Eloise. “Well, let’s get to work.” She and Cloudy walked over to the other girls, opened the kit, and began cleaning the boys’ gashes well, trying to be as extremely careful as possible. After they had bandaged the wounds, the boys stirred and opened their eyes. Arrow looked up into Cloudy’s face and asked, “Where are we?”

“You’re on the plane,” Cloudy told him. She looked over at Zach, who was being tended to by Miriam. “How are you feeling, Zach?”

“Like I got run over by a truck,” Zach complained. “What even happened?”

“The plane crashed and flipped and we got knocked out,” Cloudy answered.

Cloudy’ brothers were being cared for by Nika, Eloise, and Star. Sniper opened his glanced about, then exclaimed, “Hey, who turned the plane upside-down?!”

“Some crazy psycho,” Nika replied. She heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank God, however, that everyone’s alive!”

Eloise sniffled suddenly. Nika looked compassionately at her sister. “What’s the matter, Eloise?”

Eloise’s voice was quivering as she said, “Meta Knight and I were talking a few minutes ago. . .and he said some people in here—actually were dead.”

Nika gasped, but said nothing. Miriam, overhearing Eloise’s statement, straightened up and said, “Eloise, you can’t be serious.”

“I’m dead serious,” Eloise said sadly. “It was downright murder.”

“Ha, ha!” Sniper chuckled. “Pretty good, Eloise! Dead serious! Ha, ha, ha!”

Cloudy turned on her brother, her eyes flashing fire. “This isn’t a joke, Sniper!” she snarled. “Some people are dead! Learn to be considerate of how this is negatively affecting others, will you?”

Sniper frowned, but said no words. He just reached up and adjusted the bandage on his head. The other brothers looked solemn and serious, as well as Star. Miriam clasped Zach’s hand and looked at the ground as Eloise began to cry and Nika hugged her.

Only Cloudy, in her opinion, felt truly awful. Not because she had been traumatized and shocked by this entirely fatal event, but she felt awful because of the thought of a sick freak being horrid enough to murder others who had done him no wrong. The world was messed up, life was spinning out of control, and she could do nothing about it. Her eyes traveled to Meta Knight at the window. Cloudy knew he was heartbroken. She knew he was suffering. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t fair. This shouldn’t have happened. But it had.

Cloudy slowly approached Meta Knight and pawed his arm, whining deep in her throat, a slow, sad sound. Meta Knight looked down at her, his eyes a dull gray. Cloudy whimpered and hung her head, knowing that he was feeling just as bad as she was, probably worse. What could she do or say to comfort him?

Meta Knight gently picked Cloudy up in his arms, hugging her tightly. Cloudy heard the soft breaths of him crying and her tall, pointed ears drooped. He must be very upset by this latest incident. I know I am.

Suddenly, two faces appeared in the window. Cloudy, who had been hugging Meta Knight, looked sadly toward the window and saw two faces silhouetted against the glass! She shrieked loudly and jumped, startling Meta Knight and causing him to drop her onto the floor.

“Well, I never!” Meta Knight exclaimed. “Cloudburst, what’s the matter?”

“Someone’s looking in the window!” Cloudy said, shivering with fear. She pointed with her paw to the two shadows.

Meta Knight looked where she was pointing and started upon seeing the faces. “Oh, goodness!” he gasped. “Who is that?!”

Cloudy took a deep breath and marched straight up to the window, trying to appear as brave as possible. “Who are you?!” she yelled gruffly.

“Chill and stop yelling, Cloudy! It’s just me,” Showerstorm said soothingly, speaking through a broken portion of the glass.

“And me,” Springtime added.

“Mommy and Daddy!” Cloudy cried out, relieved. She leaped through the broken window and landed on the thin layer of ice, and she skidded, floundering about wildly as she tried to regain her footing. But she slid right onto a thin spot and the ice broke, dropping her into the water. Showerstorm reacted quickly and yanked her out, then set her on Springtime’s back.

“Yikes!” Cloudy exclaimed, her teeth chattering. “That w-water is f-f-freezing!” Then she stared at her parents and noted that they were bleeding from several superficial wounds. “Y-You’re bleeding!”

“We’re fine,” Springtime said calmly, though her eyes showed strain. “We’re more concerned about you.” Her face contorted into an expression of worry and concern. “Are you injured? Are all of you okay?”

“Y-Yes, Mommy, we’re okay, and yes, a f-few of us are injured, but it’s nothing serious,” Cloudy assured her mother. Then her look became depressed. “but some p-people here are dead.”

Springtime’s eyes grew wide with horror. “Oh my word! Why would anyone want to kill innocent people?!”

“It was intentional murder,” Cloudy said.

Showerstorm dropped his head. “I’m very sorry about those who did pass,” he said mournfully. “How did the kids take it?”

“V-Very hard,” Cloudy replied, “but Meta Knight took it the worst of all.”

“I think there’s a reason for that,” Springtime said, twisting her head to look at Cloudy sitting astride her back.

Cloudy nodded. “I thought about that,” she explained. “A-And I remembered something he told me about a few days ago—something about and army called the GSA, or Galaxy Soldier Army. M-Many of his friends and fellow Star Warriors fight in that army. I’m sure he’s experienced tons of d-deaths and was pretty traumatized by that. Plus, with him b-being abused and all. . .”

“. . .That adds up to a whole mountain of trauma and grief,” Showerstorm quietly finished.

“That poor knight,” Springtime murmured.

Cloudy nodded in agreement, Then she scowled and looked down at the cold, frothy water. “I knew we shouldn’t have gone on this flight,” she muttered. “Miss Scazzarda knew what she was talking about.”

Springtime looked guilty. “I should have listened to you,” she said gently. “But I thought it was safe because I assumed he had left the airport. It never occurred to me he would try to sneak aboard.”

“I shouldn’t have told him we were going to Vastre Hall,” Cloudy sighed.

“You did what?!” Springtime exclaimed, alarmed. “You told him where we were going?!”

Cloudy looked sheepish. “Um, yeah, I guess I did. I didn’t think anything was the matter with it, but I guess I was wrong. . .” Her voice trailed off as she gazed away toward where the sea and the line of sky met on the horizon. “So. . .what now, Mommy? We’re c-crashed out here and we don’t have a way t-to get to Leupochena.”

“I’m not certain, dear,” Springtime sad. She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “It’s only about thirty miles from here to Leupochena. Maybe we could hail a passing boat.”

Cloudy nodded, feeling excited. “You’re right, Mommy! We could!” she said. Then she scratched her ear, her green eyes pondering a question forming in her mind. “Um, but perhaps we could check the plane f-first, just to be sure we can’t fix it and fly on The p-pilot would agree.” Suddenly she remembered and her eyes grew wide. “Oh, no!”

“What’s wrong?” Showerstorm inquired.

“The pilot! H-He fell into the water somewhere in this area where the plane is!” Cloudy leaped off her mother’s back and frantically dived into the water, trying to search for him. The frigid water hurt felt like ice and made her body ache, and she came up for air, coughing. After a few seconds, she attempted another plunge into the deep, but Showerstorm stopped her.

“Whoa, stop, honey!” he ordered. “Calm down. We’ll find the pilot. We will. In the meantime, you kids see if you can flag down a boat, okay?”

Cloudy, nodded, shivering violently from fear and cold. “A-All right, Daddy.”

Showerstorm smiled encouragingly and gave her a boost through the window and she landed inside the plane. She shook herself off and ran over to her friends, who were clustered together in a corner, “Okay, e-everyone, let’s go! D-Daddy says we gotta f-flag down a boat t-t-to take us to Leupochena!”

Zach stared at the drenched Malamute. “Have you been swimming?”

“Not exactly,” Cloudy said, trying to skirt the question. “Okay, no more questions. Let’s do as Daddy says!”

Miriam threw up her hands in exasperation. “But it would have to be a pretty big boat in order to take us all!” she argued. “There’s at least a hundred and ten people here!”

“Minus the ones that died,” Eloise reminded her.

“Oh, yeah,” Miriam said. She fell silent and looked off into a far corner.

Nika jumped up. “Well, what are we waiting for?” she cried. “Let’s hail a boat, and fast! It’ll be night soon!”

The friends ran over to the window and leaped carefully through it, the water closing over their heads as they landed. “Yipes! This water’s c-cold!” Miriam yelped.

“Y-you’re telling me. I just hope I-I don’t d-d-die of pneumonia before the day is ou-out.”

“You’d b-be lucky if you didn’t,” Sniper joked.

Eloise gave Sniper a withering look. “Shut up, Sniper.”

“Fine. I can handle that,” Sniper retorted, then became sullen and silent.

They looked this way and that to see if there were any boats, but saw nothing but a wide expanse of grayish-blue water and a tiny city that seemed far, far away. Cloudy figured that must be Leupochena.

“Let’s swim around to the other side of the plane!” Arrow barked. They all obeyed and went around to the opposite side, but were suddenly intercepted by a huge ship coming their way!

“What luck!” Miriam exclaimed.

“There’s a ship!” Nika shouted. She waved her hands wildly. “Hey, hey, help! Help us!” she hollered.

The ship slowed and the captain steered a little to the right, then halted the ship so that it came to rest right beside the crashed plane. A few sailors ran to the side of the ship and peered over it, and one called out, “Are you all okay?”

“Yes, but we need to get to Leupochena before dark!” Miriam called back.

“Why? What happened?” another sailor asked.

“Some freak sabotaged our plane and took over the controls and crashed us here in the water,” Zach said. “He escaped, though.”

“Did you see anyone out here while you were rowing out?” Miriam asked.

The sailors shook their heads. “Didn’t see a soul except for you guys and gals, miss,” the first one said. “We’re the only ones who have permission to be out on the ocean today.”

Cloudy drew her brows down, realizing there was something about this whole event that wasn’t clear. “Hey, Arrow?”

“Hmm?” Arrow looked at Cloudy in a questioning manner.

“If that guy escaped from the plane, then how did he jump off without getting killed or injured? And where did he even go? Did he drown? Did someone pick him up?” Cloudy asked.

Arrow put a paw to halt her barrage of questions. “Those are good questions, Cloudy,” he said, “but at the moment I have no answers.”

Up on the ship’s deck, the sailors were still talking to the children. “If you can, get all the living out of that plane and their luggage and we can hoist them up on deck and take them to Leuopchena,” the second sailor said. “Be careful with any who are seriously injured, and leave the dead.”

“Will do. Roger that,” Miriam said. She signaled her friends to follow her and began swimming around to the other side of the plane, then swam over to the window and pulled herself inside. The others followed suit.

Meta Knight was standing with a group of survivors when Miriam jumped in. She counted the survivors in her head; there were exactly fifty of them. She frowned. That was quite a death loss of people.

“All right, all, we’re getting out of here,” Miriam said. “Collect all the luggage you can and follow me.” She and her friends hunted for their luggage, and once they located it, snatched it and jumped lightly out of the plane again. The water splashed gently as they landed and the survivors followed. None of the living seemed to be seriously injured and Miriam was glad. As they were swimming to the ship with Miriam in the lead, Springtime and Showerstorm swam up beside them.

“Hey, Miss Springtime and Mister Showerstorm,” Miriam greeted the two adults. “Where were you?”

“We went to look for the pilot,” Showerstorm said.”

“Did you find him?” a lady asked.

Springtime grimaced. “No, but we did find blood in the water near the spot where we saw him fall. I don’t know where he is or what happened to him, but I believe that, ummm, he now currently and will forever have an underwater grave.”

Miriam blinked in disbelief. Her glance strayed to Meta Knight, who wrapped his drenched cape around himself and looked away from her. Miriam felt miserable, but decided not to say anything to him for the time being.

Instead, she led them to the ship and the sailors dropped down a giant ladder. Several people climbed on the ladder and hung on while the sailors pulled them onto the ship, and then the ladder was dropped down again for the second round of people.

After the third group had been taken up, it was Miriam and her friends’ turn. They all grabbed onto the ladder and hung on tightly as the sailors pulled them aboard. Once they were safely on deck, one sailor dropped the ladder again and climbed down.

“Where’s he going?” Miriam asked the captain.

“To inspect the plane,” the captain replied.

Miriam watched as the sailor slowly swam around the outside of the plane for some time, then climbed inside and was gone from view. After a minute, he climbed out again and swam back to the ship, where he was hauled to the deck.

“So what was wrong?” the captain wanted to know.

“Someone clogged the engines with debris and destroyed the landing gear,” the sailor explained. “However, no one was in the plane except the dead.”

“Hmm.” The captain frowned a little and shrugged. “Not much to run on, then. Well, we need to get to Leupochena. I’ll call someone to collect the dead bodies, the plane, and these peoples’ luggage. Um, Fred, Agro, make sure these survivors are well cared for.”

The sailors instantly jumped to do the captain’s bidding. As they were rowing steadily toward Leupochena, Miriam went down to Meta Knight’s room. He was sitting on the bed and had his cape wrapped around himself. Miriam climbed on the bunk beside him. “Meta Knight?”

“Yes, child.”

“Are you okay?”

Meta Knight stared at her, and slowly the tears filled his eyes. He looked away. “Please go.”

“What? But I—”

“Miriam,” Meta Knight pleaded, his voice cracking. “Go. . .please.”

Miriam gave him a sorrowful and sympathetic look, then jumped off the bunk and walked out of the room. She seated herself on a small bench outside his room, thinking, These recent events must have hit him hard.

Miriam folded her hands and closed her eyes, inwardly praying, “Jesus, please be with Meta Knight. Please be with us all.”

 

* * * * *

 

“Here we are at Leupochena!” Fred called cheerfully.

Miriam ran up to the deck upon hearing Fred’s words and gazed with awe at the big city. It was beautiful, what with its Christmas lights strung everywhere and Christmas carols ringing out in the streets. Down on the dock, she saw a female husky who looked very similar to Star. Aunt Summer?

The gangplank was lowered and Springtime and her crew ran off the ship and over to the husky. “Summer!!” Springtime cried out.

“Springtime!” Summer exclaimed, embracing her older sister. “So nice to see you!”

“Nice to see you too,” Springtime said, and quickly introduced her friends and family.

“Wonderful to meet you all,” Summer said happily. “Well, this is my husband, Soldier, and these are our children, Elena, Eliot, Warren, and Karrie.”

“Hey,” Cloudy greeted her cousins.

“Hello,” Elena said softly, smoothing her fur.

Summer gestured to two humanoids standing beside them. “These are Dana and Frank Mesterein. Dana’s expecting.”

“Well, congratulations!” Showerstorm said sincerely.

“Thank you,” Dana replied.

“They own Vastre Hall,” Summer went on, “and that’s where you’ll be staying.” Then for the first time, she took in their bedraggled appearances and the boys’ bandaged heads and grew alarmed. “What happened to you?!”

“Our plane crashed,” Sniper said cheerfully.

“What?!” Summer gasped.

“It’s a long story,” Showerstorm broke in tiredly. “We’ll tell you all about it at Vastre Hall.”

“Okay, then. Let’s go,” Soldier said.

They all grouped together and left the dock. After passing through several busy streets and intersections, they finally came to a long stone driveway. They walked the thick pavement until they came to a huge iron gate, and Summer unlocked it and pushed it open. They stepped into the yard and the gate clanged shut behind them.

Cloudy looked up with amazement and wonder. There, in front of her, was a beautiful, four-story mansion made of shiny, yellow brick. Christmas lights draped the eaves and porch railings and a Christmas tree could be seen in one window.

“Vastre Hall,” Cloudy said softly.



Book 1: Thankful Hearts

Chapter Eight: Thank You

 

After the meal was over, the crowd sang a few hymns and chatted a while longer. Then it was time to go.

Cloudy and her friends offered to help clear the dishes and fold up the picnic tables to return them to Mrs. Turner’s restaurant. As they wiped the tables, Cloudy hummed snatches of the songs they had just sang.

Wylanda, overhearing, smiled contentedly. It was funny, she thought. If her mother had never made her go to this feast, she probably wouldn’t even be standing here right now. Truly the Lord works in mysterious ways, she thought.

After forty minutes or so, the picnic tables were all cleared away and the dishes had disappeared. Lily and the Palmer sisters cleaned the bits of food off the ground and stuck them into large trash bags, which they then hauled out to the side of the road.

Showerstorm smiled. “You guys are good helpers,” he commented.

“Thanks,” replied Lily, her brown eyes shining.

By the time the pasture was cleared, most of the people had already left. A few remained, such as Eloise and Nika’s family and Miriam’s mom, as well as the Stellarums. The knight was talking in a low voice to his mother, who nodded after everything he said. Cloudy looked at the paper she had made, remembering she had to give it to him.

She danced over to him and waited for the knight to stop speaking, then cleared her throat. “Magnus.”

“Hm?” The knight glanced down at her and smiled. “Oh, it’s you, Cloudy. What do you need?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to give you this.” She then added as an afterthought, “I made it.” Then she rushed off.

“What does it say, Magnus?” Scazzarda wondered.

The knight delicately unfolded the piece of paper and held it up to the light shining from the lamppost across the street. It read:

 

We met just today, Magnus Stellarum,

But I feel like I know you very well.

I wish I could understand you better,

But I can’t, so I just want to tell

You that you’re one of the kindest knights

That I’ve met, though we met so suddenly.

You know me, and I know you—

And that’s the way it ought to be.

-Cloudburst

 

The knight finished reading and his hand began to tremble, but with an effort he restrained his emotions. He folded the latter and lovingly held it. “It is just a poem,” he said quietly.

Scazzarda smiled kindly at him. “And from the looks of it, it’s a lovely poem.”

“Yes,” he admitted, looking over at Cloudy. Sensing somebody was staring at her, she turned to see the knight and grinned, her pearly white teeth reflecting in the lamppost’s light. “I’ll never forget her, Mother. She’s one of the kindest kids I have ever come across.”

“And she’s different, too,” Scazzarda murmured. The knight nodded, his eyes locked on Cloudy’s glistening black-and-white fur and her intelligent emerald-colored eyes.

“Let’s go home,” Scazzarda told her son.

 

* * * * *

 

Cloudy watched the Stellarums walk off toward Whispy Woods and frowned a little. Why were they going in there? Perhaps they lived there, but what an odd place to live!

“Hi, Cloudy.”

Cloudy whirled and saw Wylanda standing there, a smile on her face. “Oh, hello, Wylanda,” Cloudy said. “How are you?”

Just fine, actually.” Wylanda’s brown eyes looked like stars in the dim light. “I came to thank you for showing me the truth.”

Cloudy backed up a little and shook her head in protest. “Oh, no. Don’t you thank me. It’s God who deserves the thanks. I was just His vessel.”

“Ohh. Of course.” Wylanda giggled. “I thanked Him too. He’s just wonderful to me.”

Cloudy agreed. Then a thought came to her mind. “Did you ever tell your parents about the knife?” she asked solemnly.

Wylanda nodded soberly. “They were grieved, but also happy because you came along and showed me the way to truth. They were very grateful that I accepted Christ as my Savior.”

Cloudy looked up to the starlit sky. To her, it looked as though God had drawn a black velvet curtain dotted with white spots across the sky. There were no clouds and the air was chilly but refreshing. “And do you now see how blessed you are?”

“Indeed,” Wylanda nodded. “And I hope one day to trace my original parents and tell them I forgive them for what they did to me.”

Cloudy smiled. What a drastic change the Lord has worked in Wylanda!

“Hey, wanna go to the mall together this Saturday?” Wylanda asked. “We can do some shopping.”

“Sure! I’ll be there!” Cloudy said. “And if you want, you can come to our house Tuesday night and have a sleepover.”

“Cool!” Wylanda then looked up to see Mrs. Coven waving at her. “Oh, we gotta go home.” Then she looked at Cloudy. “Say, I’ve been meaning to ask you. Where do you go to church?”

Cloudy frowned, confused. “Umm. . .I don’t go to church. This area of Spring Breeze has no church.”

“You don’t go to church!” Wylanda was silent a moment. “Well, we go to to a small Baptist church about thirty miles down from our house. We don’t live in your area, you know. We’re more in the north. But anyway, you’re invited to join us. We’ll pick you up this Sunday.”

“Okay, I’ll be waiting,” Cloudy said. “Now shoo!”

Wylanda waved to Cloudy as she climbed in the Coven’s automobile. “Take good care of my necklace!” she shouted out the window as the car roared away.

Cloudy stood alone on the dewy grass, the chill of night beginning to press down on her. She shivered and looked across the street just in time to see Miriam and her mother go into their house and slam the door. The Palmer sisters were climbing into their mom’s car. Once they were settled, Mr. Palmer puled out of the yard and drove down the road. Then silence.

Cloudy looked up to the sky once more and saw a tiny sliver of the crescent moon. The sheer beauty of its silvery light seemed to embrace every fiber of her being. And now she wondered where the Lord would take her next.

 

~   ~   ~

 

And that marks the end of this story. But don’t forget, dear readers, that the theme of this story is to always be grateful for what you have and not gripe, for what you own, the Lord has blessed you with. Take this moral and apply it to your own lives, and never forget to have a thankful heart no matter what.

Book 1: Thankful Hearts

Chapter Seven: Count Your Blessings

 

Star yawned. “Isn’t Cloudy back from talking to that bratty girl?” she grumbled, glancing at the sky. “From the position of the sun, I’d say it’s almost five o’clock or so.”

“Aw, be patient,” Arrow said. “She’ll be here.”

Scazzarda nodded in agreement. “She’ll come when she’s ready.”

Then Star heard something. From her right came the sound of someone running, and she leaped up eagerly, expecting to see Cloudy returning. But to her consternation, it wasn’t Cloudy at all. It was Wylanda!

“Oh, no,” Sharkell muttered. “What is she doing here?”

Wylanda slowed and walked right up to the group. Star bristled and backed away from the girl, baring her fangs.

“Why are you here?” Arrow coldly asked.

To Star’s surprise, Wylanda didn’t mock or make fun of them as expected. Instead, she seemed very contrite and kind. “I know exactly why you’re acting afraid of me, and in no way do I blame you,” Wylanda said, pressing her palms together. “I just wanted to say that I regret all the mean things I’ve done to you, and I’m sorry.”

“Huh?!” Star stared, speechless, at her. This wasn’t the Wylanda they had always known!

“Whoa, talk about a drastic personality change,” Zach said to Star under his breath.

“Yeah. Since when is she so friendly and nice?” Star said to herself. She was getting suspicious, certain this was some sort of trick to win their trust.

Wylanda looked around at their stern, cold expressions and sighed. “Cloudy finally showed me the truth, and I accepted Christ,” she explained. “He’s changed me from the inside-out. I’ve made a commitment to Him, and I will never go back to my old lifestyle.”

Sniper and Sharkell looked at each other, their eyes wide. Scazzarda frowned. Wylanda seemed so sincere—but how could they trust she really had changed?

“Prove to us that you’re not the same person you were,” Nika challenged. “How do we know you’re really saved? Do we know it’s not a trick?”

“It’s not a trick,” came a familiar feminine voice from behind Wylanda. Cloudy stepped into view, the porcelain rose lightly bumping against her chest with every movement. The children seemed confused by her wearing the necklace, but made no comment.

The knight took a step back. “Cloudburst,” he breathed, but said no other words.

“Wylanda is changed,” Cloudy said firmly. “She is now a daughter of the King.”

“How wonderful!” Scazzarda said, taking Wylanda in her arms and hugging her. “I’m so happy for you, child.”

Wylanda embraced her in return. “Thank you.” Then she glanced up at Scazzarda’s bright blond hair into which was stuck the white rose. She reached up to touch one of the soft petals. “You’re wearing a rose!”

“Naturally. It’s Thanksgiving,” Scazzarda said. “And in Dreamland, the symbol of gratitude is a rose!”

“I know!” Wylanda said. “That’s kind of cool.” She scratched her head. “But I wonder why? Why a rose?”

Scazzarda put an arm across Wylanda’s shoulder. “The rose was chosen specifically because many of our Pilgrim ancestors associated the rose with Jesus.”

“What does Jesus have to do with Thanksgiving?” Star asked. “I mean, I get He brought our ancestors safely to Dreamland and all, but I don’t get. . .”

“Well, dear, let me explain,” Scazzarda said. “See, Jesus is more associated with the theme of Thanksgiving, which is gratitude. When we get saved, how should we respond to Christ for saving us?”

Star’s eyes shone as brightly as her name. “Thanksgiving!” she exclaimed. “Gratitude! Of course!”

“Exactly, my dear!” Scazzarda went on. “Anyway, these Pilgrims chose the rose because of the symbols the flower held.”

“What do you mean?” Yodi asked.

“You know how a rose can have thorns?” Scazzarda asked. Several of the children nodded. “Well, the Pilgrims associated that with the crown of thorns, or the suffering and agony Christ had to endure on the cross.”

Cloudy gasped and Star seemed intrigued.

“Most people think red is the main color of rose petals, so the Pilgrims chose that color to represent Jesus’ blood, or the cleansing of our sins.”

“Golly!” Arrow exclaimed. “I never knew any of this stuff before!”

Scazzarda gently hushed him and then continued, “And lastly, the green of the stem and leaves represents rebirth, or the renewal of our bodies and spirits in eternal life.” She looked away across the pasture and up, gesturing to the sky, and everyone looked up. What they saw made their hearts nearly skip a beat.

The sun was setting, fading behind the thick greenery of Whispy Woods. Blue, purple, and gold entwined in one marvelous spiral of color to create an unusual-looking but picturesque painting of God’s spectacular handiwork. White flamed the edges of the clouds stretching away beyond the peak of Mount Moonstem, and the edges of the usually-golden sun seemed tinged with red fire. The mountain peak was a dusky blueish-gray in the fading light.

The children were captured by the awe of it all. “Truly God’s the Master Designer of this wonderful world!” Star whispered.

“No one can ever paint such a glorious sunset as well as God can,” Cloudy said to Wylanda, who nodded her head.

“Thanks be to God,” Scazzarda murmured. “It’s by His mercy we are able to stand here before Him and admire His handiwork. It’s by His grace that we are not struck dead by His hand right now.”

“Amen,” Eloise said. Then she looked to Wylanda. “Oh, um, by the way, Wylanda, I wanted to apologize for those awful things I said to you. I didn’t mean it, really.”

“Apology accepted,” Wylanda said, then looked around at the group with a smile on her face. “So, does this mean we’re all friends now?”

“Well, of course!” Miriam said, dashing over to Wylanda. “We’re friends now!”

“Cool,” Wylanda said. “Well, what do you want to do first?”

“I think the feast will take place in forty-five minutes or so,” Eloise said, looking at her watch. “Let’s go to the house and help set up the picnic tables Mrs. Turner provided.”

Wylanda started to walk toward the house, but halted and looked back at the knight. His sun-colored eyes glared at her from beneath his mask, his body wrapped in his cape. Wylanda wanted to say how much she was sorry for insulting him, but felt too afraid to approach him. Instead, she smiled apologetically, hoping that would communicate the message. He seemed to understand what she was trying to tell him, for he kindly nodded. Feeling better, Wylanda ran off to join her friends.

Scazzarda chuckled as she watched the kids start a game of tag on their way to the house. “Magnus, what do you think of those children?”

The knight’s eyes landed on Cloudy, her green eyes sparkling in the last light of the sun, her kind smile seeming to illuminate the dark, her necklace swaying rhythmically from side to side as she darted left and right, trying to deviate the others from touching her. There was something about her that set her apart from the rest of the children, but he wasn’t sure what.

“They’re different,” was all he would say.

 

* * * * *

 

Showerstorm caught Cloudy and Star as they were trying to push two picnic tables in line with one another. “Psst,” he whispered, handing each of them a large bucket. “Go out and collect as much money as you can from the people here—that is, if they want to donate. Okay?”

“Why?” Star asked.

“Don’t ask questions. Just go.”

Star looked like she was about to argue, but Cloudy stopped her with a warning look. Star looked puzzled as the two sisters walked off together through the crowd. “Why are we doing this?” she whispered.

Cloudy gave her a surprised look. “Don’t you remember? It’s for Miriam’s mom,” she said. Then she added in a whisper, “But don’t tell them until Mommy says so.”

“Okay,” Star agreed, and the two sisters went to work collecting money.

 

* * * * *

 

Springtime smiled nervously as the people filed among the row of picnic tables and took their seats. All the tables were arranged vertically except for one in front of the house, which was arranged horizontally. That was the table at which Springtime, Showerstorm, the Covens, and the Stellarums would sit.

“It’s starting in a minute,” Miriam said to her mother. The two were standing together on the porch.

Meredith groaned and placed a hand to her forehead. “I don’t even know why you brought me out here. I don’t feel good.”

“Cloudy said her parents had a surprise for us, but wouldn’t say what it was,” Miriam said.

Cloudy rushed up the steps and stopped before mother and daughter. “Are you guys gonna join the feast?” she asked.

“Yes,” Miriam said gravely.

Meredith sighed. “Sure, I suppose so. But I’m not feeling very well.”

“That’s expected when you’re having a baby,” Cloudy said nonchalantly, her eyes roaming over the packed crowds.

Meredith started. “What did you say?”

“You’re pregnant, Mom!” Miriam cheered. “Miss Springtime said so!”

Meredith was stunned. Slowly the tears filled her eyes. “A-A baby?” she murmured.

Miriam nodded and did a pirouette.

“Okay, everyone, welcome to our Thanksgiving feast!” Springtime announced into a megaphone. “We’re pleased and proud that you would join us, and we will say grace in a few moments. But first,” she said, “we have a special surprise to present to a Mrs. Meredith Capperdale and her daughter, Miriam. Please come here.”

Meredith and Miriam looked at each other and Miriam shrugged. The two walked sedately down the steps and over to the front table.

Springtime cleared her throat and looked to her husband, who picked up the two buckets and pushed them toward Meredith. “This is to help pay off your loans,” he said in a low tone.

Meredith peered into one of the buckets and gave a sound gasp. “Good grief!” she cried out. “How much is in here?!”

“There’s just as much in the other one!” Miriam exclaimed.

Showerstorm winked at his wife and picked up a third bucket, bigger than the other two, and pushed it to Meredith. The woman’s eyes were wide. “We sent out a third recruit to gather money when Star and Cloudy got tired,” he said, casting his gaze on Nika. She smiled proudly.

“So this is for you, Meredith, and we hope you will be able to stay in this neighborhood,” Springtime concluded. She looked out toward the audience. “And I’d like to extend out warmest and sincerest thanks for all those who donated to help this family!”

There was a thunderous applause and cheers and whistles filled the air. Meredith was speechless and shocked while Miriam was amazed. The two looked to Cloudy, but she shook her head and pointed to her parents. “It was their idea,” she mouthed.

Meredith smiled warmly. “Thank you,” she said, her voice filled with emotion. “I will pay these loans back as soon as we get home.”

At the word “home,” Miriam cheered and began dancing around. Everyone laughed and smiled at the little girl.

“And now to proceed with the feast,” Springtime said once everyone had quieted down and taken their seats. “But before we do, I want to give an overview of our history and how we came to celebrate this special holiday.
“Three hundred years ago, the Pilgrims left their home in Leudon and sailed on the Moonflower to escape religious persecution in their hometown from James I,” she began. “They sailed for sixty-five days before finally reaching the place which we call Dreamland. Many died that first winter, but when spring came, Indians such as Squinto, Missosoit, and Sumosot helped them and taught the Pilgrims many things. And that first fall in the New World, they had a huge feast. That feast day became known to the world as Thanksgiving.”

Then she held up a rose, apparently snipped off one of Cloudy’s rosebushes. “This rose became the symbol for gratitude, and we will have Scazzarda Stellarum explain why.”

As Scazzarda again explained the meaning of the rose, Cloudy looked around at the joyous crowd and smiled. She thought over the events of the past two weeks. Just a few days ago Miriam’s family was in debt, Wylanda was a jerk, and nothing seemed to be going right. But now Miriam could stay in Spring Breeze, Wylanda was saved, and everything had turned out wonderfully. Cloudy knew only the hand of the Lord Himself could have worked things out in such a mighty and marvelous way.

“And now,” Springtime said when Scazzarda had finished, “we will have a few stand up and say what they are thankful for.”

A young woman stood up. “I’m thankful for my husband and my family and for the grace the Lord has shown, thought I went astray in previous years while battling drugs and rehab,” she said.

A middle-aged man was next. “I’m thankful my wife, though she’s ill with cancer, is still alive, and that I’m able to be with her at the hospital. I’m thankful for my children and what they are becoming.”

“I’m thankful for my mommy and baby brother,” a little girl about three years old said.

Wylanda then stood. “I’m thankful for my best friends and that I’m a child of the King—and that we’re all able to be here tonight as God’s family,” she said firmly.

Miriam was next. “I’m so grateful for my unborn sibling and for the fact that God is with us and that I’m able to stay in this neighborhood,” she said.

A few more people went before Cloudy stood and prepared to say what she was thankful for. Her eyes landed on the knight, who was holding his mother’s hand. Scazzarda smiled at him, and his eyes glowed light blue.

Cloudy lifted her head and said strongly, “I have many things I am thankful for, but before I begin, I want to say something.
“I am aware many here are struggling with past trauma, and I will not say I can relate, because I cannot. But I can tell you this: If you have the Lord Jesus Christ in your life, you are in good hands. The Lord will preserve you if you trust Him.
“I am also aware that many here may not have ever made a personal choice to accept the Lord. If so, the time is now. Today is the day of salvation; don’t wait any longer. You’re not promised tomorrow, nor your next breath.”

Springtime listened to her daughter speak these bold words and smiled at her husband. He nodded imperceptibly and listened.

“And now for my thankfulness list: I am thankful for my family and my friends. I am thankful that we are all here to tonight. I am thankful that I have shelter, food, water, a good school, and good hygiene,” Cloudy said. Some people chuckled at the last statement. “But most importantly, I am thankful that Jesus is my Friend and that He will never forsake me or leave me. I am thankful Jesus is Jesus!”

Everyone began to clap. It started out quietly and then grew louder and louder until Cloudy thought she would become deaf. She pinned down her ears to block out the roar of the mass of clapping hands and paws. The applause went on for so long that finally Springtime had to stop it.

“Now who wants to say grace?” Showerstorm asked.

“I will,” Scazzarda volunteered.

While Scazzarda payed for God’s blessing over the food, Cloudy looked over at the knight. He seemed ill at ease and rather uncomfortable with the fact that his mother was praying. Cloudy felt a bit concerned and sorry for him. He didn’t strike her as the kind to trust others, and she felt it had something to do with his past. She made up her mind to be his personal friend. So while the others were praying, she quickly grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen and scribbled down a short but powerful poem. She folded it carefully and tucked it away as Scazzarda finished her prayer.

“Now let the feast begin!” Springtime announced.

As happy hands passed around the food from table to table, Miriam leaned over and whispered to Cloudy, “Isn’t it amazing what the Lord can do?”

“Yes,” Cloudy said softly—and she meant it.

Book 1: Thankful Hearts

Chapter Five: Wylanda’s Ingratitude

 

Cloudy watched Wylanda stalk off, her hair blowing back in a light breeze, the hem of her dress flapping lazily. When she had disappeared among the thick crowd, Cloudy turned to the knight and apologized, “I’m sorry about Wylanda, Magnus. She’s quite rude to everyone she meets except for those who are in her social status lane.”

The knight bowed his head, extremely uncomfortable. Uncomfortable both with being made fun of and being the center of someone’s sympathy, which he absolutely hated. He managed a smile. “It’s okay, Cloudy. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Dang right it wasn’t her fault!” said Eloise. “Why, I bet you anything Wylanda’s parents don’t raise her right! No wonder she’s a spoiled brat!”

Sharkell tilted his head. “But if so, Eloise, why do they send her to a Christian school? Why bother to spend all that money when they could just get her into the local public school for free?”

Eloise shrugged. “I wish I knew that part of the puzzle.” She scowled angrily. “But nonetheless, Wylanda should know better than to behave so irrationally.”

Scazzarda brushed an ant off her dress. “Now, now, kids. We may not understand exactly why Wylanda acts the way she does, but the important thing is to treat her with kindness.” She shook her head a little sadly. “I think that girl may have some personality problems linked to her past.”

Cloudy frowned, her eyes thoughtful.

Star paid little attention to Scazzarda’s words. Sitting down and scratching her ear, she addressed herself directly to her friends. “Speaking of Wylanda’s parents, have you guys even seen them? They don’t like anything like Wylanda. They have dark skin, too, unlike her.”

Sniper scoffed. “So? That doesn’t mean anything.”

“It might,” Star told him, briefly detaining from her ear-scratching and looking at him. “She could be adopted.”

“Or maybe her parents’ family lines are mixed,” Sniper pointed out. “Maybe one line has dark skin color and the other light.”

“Maybe.” Star sighed deeply. “But even their physical features aren’t the same. They look completely different.”

“Doesn’t mean she’s adopted,” Sniper said. Then his face lit up and he grinned. “Maybe she was kidnapped like that girl in the movie Tangled was by that creepy woman.”

“Okay, going a little too far there, Sniper,” responded Cloudy, giving him a sideways look. “But maybe Star’s right. Maybe the girl really is adopted.”

“Who cares if she is? Doesn’t give her a right to be mean, does it?” Sharkell snapped. “She should learn to be nicer to us.”

“Well, maybe we should learn to be nicer to her,” Cloudy retorted.

“Huh?!” Sniper exclaimed, completely taken aback. “What are you talking about?”

“We haven’t exactly been very nice to her,” Cloudy admitted. “When she said mean things to us, we reacted rudely, though some of us might not have known it. Maybe we thought we were handling the situation the way it was supposed to be handled, but that’s not the case. In hindsight, we’re really acting just as bad as she is.”

Sniper was too stunned to speak, but Sharkell asked, “What showed you we were doing that, Cloudy?”

Cloudy cast a glance at Scazzarda. “Miss Scazzarda did. It was what she said about treating Wylanda with kindness that really got me thinking, and it occurred to me that that was not what we have been doing. Rather, it was the—” She hunted for the right words. “—the polar opposite.”

“Oh. . .” Sharkell’s voice trailed off.

Sniper finally spoke. “But why should we treat someone with kindness when they’ve been so mean to us?”

“Gosh, Sniper!” Cloudy burst out, frustrated with him. She stood up straight, her tail erect and her voice loud as she glared angrily into the wide, astonished eyes of her older brother. “Even God tells us to love and treat our enemies with kindness! Don’t you ever read God’s Word?”

Sniper’s response sent a shock wave through her body: “Don’t you?”

The fire melted out of Cloudy’s eyes. She stared at Sniper, his eyes glaring defiantly into hers, his angry look communicating something to her. And she suddenly understood. Why was she bearing down on her brother for something she was guilty of as well? Jesus’ words from Matthew 7:1-5 popped into her mind:

“Judge not, that you be not judged. For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged, and with the measure you use it will be measured to you. Why do you see the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when there is the log in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye.”

The passage was not referring to literal specks and logs, but rather sin. Two or more people who have committed the same sin cannot judge one another because they are all guilty. It was like scolding your little sister for her theft of a cookie from Mom’s cookie jar when you stole a cookie too.

Cloudy whapped her tail slowly, lost in thought, her gaze to the ground. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, then looked up at Sniper. “Sniper, I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have judged you for being mean to Wylanda. I’m guilty for being mean to her as well. Please forgive me.”

Sniper chewed his lower lip and looked at the slide, the swing, the tree house, and finally Cloudy. “Apology accepted. I forgive you,” he said softly.

Cloudy looked to the knight to see if he had any comment on this, but the realized he was gone. She blinked in surprise and quickly looked this way and that, but didn’t see him anywhere. “Miss Scazzarda?” she shouted.

“What is it, dear?”

“Where’s Magnus? He’s not here!”

“Hmm?” Scazzarda stood up and shaded her eyes from the glaring sun, looking around for her son. When she couldn’t spot him, she shrugged and sat back down in her shady spot underneath the tree house. “Oh, he probably went off by himself for a while. He does that a lot. Don’t worry about him.”

“Why does he go off by himself?” Star wondering, gazing wonderingly at Scazzarda.

“When he wants to be alone or to think.”

“What does he want to think about?” Sniper asked with a slight smirk. It was obvious he was being more than a little nosy.

Scazzarda’s tranquil expression changed to one of uneasiness and wariness. “Well, I can’t say.”

“Why not?” Arrow asked.

“You’re not old enough to understand,” was the reply.

Arrow decided not to say anything more. So did Cloudy. Both decided to trust Scazzarda’s judgment; after all, she was older and wiser. The other children looked curiously at one another, their eyes bright and puzzled, but did not speak.

“Oh, oh,” Miriam said, noticing her mother standing at the edge of the crowd and waving to her. “Looks like Mom wants me. BRB.” And like a shot, she was off and running.

“BRB?” Cloudy repeated.

“Be right back,” Scazzarda murmured sleepily, her eyes drifting closed.

“Oh.” Cloudy fell silent, watching Miriam tear through the throng as fast as she could.

 

* * * * *

 

“What?!” Miriam stared wild-eyed at her mother, her face full of shock and disbelief. “We have to leave the feast?! Why?!!

“I don’t want to stay here anymore,” Meredith said shortly. “I’m tired and dizzy and I feel sick. I just want to go home.”

Miriam caught her mother’s hand and pressed it gently to her chest. “Mom, you’re stressing yourself out too much. You need to relax.”

“Relax!” Meredith spat the word as if she had heard something unpleasant. “How can I relax if my husband is weak and injured and we’re about to be homeless?!”

Miriam was surprised beyond measure. If her mother had ever showed any lack of faith, it was now. Putting her hands on her hips and speaking sharply, Miriam retorted, “Mom, what happened to trusting God to provide for our needs?”

“Provide.” Meredith whispered the word as though it were foreign to her. “Provide?” Her eyes glazed over and she grabbed the top fence rail.

“Mom?” Miriam said, fear beginning to bubble up in her at her mother’s strange look. “Are you all right?”

“I’m. . .fine. . .” Suddenly Meredith swayed and almost fell, but Miriam caught her arm and stopped her from toppling to the ground.

“Meredith!” Springtime yelled, running toward her with Showerstorm in tow. “Are you okay?”

Meredith turned toward Springtime, her eyes devoid of any light. “No.” She sounded as if she would cry.

“Mom!”

“Meredith!”

“Here, I’ve got her,” Showerstorm said, supporting Meredith as he led her to the house to lie down. Springtime watched them go, then turned to Miriam. “Your mother will be okay, honey,” she said soothingly.

Miriam’s face was filled with worry and her eyes with tears. Her chin trembled as she whispered, “is Mom sick? Is something wrong with her?”

Springtime knelt down so that she was on eye level with the little girl. “Has your mother had these symptoms for a while?”

Miriam nodded. “Yeah, for about three weeks or so.”

“Has she vomited in the morning at all?”

Miriam nodded again, looking confused. “Why do you ask?”

Springtime grinned widely as she stood up and headed for the house. “If I’m not mistaken, Miriam,” she said over her shoulder, “you might be having a little brother or sister soon!”

Miriam stared at Springtime’s retreating back, amazed. A little brother or sister?! Did that mean a baby?!! Miriam was so happy she smiled, her heart full of gladness. She wanted to dance, jump, laugh, whoop with joy, shout the good news to everyone—but she didn’t.

“I must run to tell my friends,” she said to herself. “They’ll be amazed.” With these thoughts in mind, she sprinted excitedly in the direction of the tree house, pausing only when someone got in her way. Politely she asked them to move and was off again.

Miriam was almost to the tree house when someone stepped in front of her again. With a resigned sigh, she was about to ask the person to please move aside when she saw who it was. Her breath caught in her throat and her dark eyes grew wide.

It was Wylanda!

For a moment, the two stared each other down. Then Wylanda spoke, “Where are you going, little beggar girl?”

Miriam found herself blushing as she glanced at her worn brown dress. She was furious, about to bite back with a lashing retort, but then recalled what Scazzarda had said about treating Wylanda with kindness. “Um, hi, Wylanda,” she said, mustering up her friendliest voice. “I was just going to see my friends.”

“Why?” Wylanda sneered. “Do you have some exciting piece of news that you’re just dying to share with them?”

Miriam nodded, her face lighting up with joy. Wylanda noticed her change of expression. “As a matter of fact, I do have some exciting news, Wylanda.”

An interested expression came over Wylanda’s face. “What?” she asked, her voice full of curiosity.

“My mom’s having a baby!” Miriam announced.

Wylanda’s mouth flew wide open in shock. “What??”

“I know! I know! It’s exciting, isn’t it?” Miriam danced about happily. “I’ve always wanted a sibling and now I’ll have one! Yay! Praise God!”

Wylanda narrowed her eyes at the mention of God. “Why would God give you a sibling?” she asked in a surly tone.

Miriam’s face flushed red with anger at the rude question, but she decided to be gracious. Pasting a smile on her face, she answered,” Because God loves me!”

“God loves you?” Wylanda sounded genuinely confused. “Why would He love you?”

“Because I’m His daughter and He’s my Father.” Then Miriam stopped dancing and looked solemnly at Wylanda, and with a gentle voice said, “You could be His daughter too, Wylanda, if you would ask Him to take you in.”

Wylanda threw up her hands and rolled her eyes to the heavens. “Miriam, my own father wasn’t even reliable. Why would I ask some strange Galilean carpenter Who lived two thousand years ago to be my Father?”

Miriam frowned, pondering Wylanda’s words. “Wait. Did you just say your own dad wasn’t reliable?”

Wylanda’s eyes widened and she put her hand over her mouth, realizing she had just slipped up. “Um, never mind. That was never meant to be revealed to anyone. . .”

Miriam’s eyes filled with compassion. “Oh, Wylanda. You were adopted, weren’t you?”

Wylanda didn’t answer.

“Your biological parents probably did something to you and you were taken from them and sent to an orphanage. Is that right?”

There was silence. Then Wylanda answered faintly, “I never wanted anyone to know.”

“Why didn’t you tell us you were adopted?”

“Because you all come from good homes and I don’t want to be noted as the outcast,” Wylanda snapped. “Okay? My parents left me on the sidewalk when I was born because they didn’t want a girl, for goodness’ sake! My neighbor took me to the orphanage and two years later, I was adopted by Mother and Father Coven. They’ve taken care of me ever since.”

Miriam felt sorry for Wylanda for the first time. “Unfortunately, you’re not alone in that situation. Most kids are adopted, Wylanda.”

Wylanda’s face was taut with bitterness. “If God really loved me, I don’t think He would allow me to go through such a thing as that, would He? Am I some kind of stranger to Him because I was adopted?”

Miriam shook her head. “No. No one is a stranger to God, Wylanda. He made everyone and everything; He knows all their names. He created the sun, moon, stars, planets, galaxies, animals, and everything else you could think of! But He didn’t just create the universe and then sit back to let it run on its own. No, He cared for His creation. He still is caring for it, in fact, and will until the end of the age. Wylanda, God is the most trustworthy Person in existence.”

“I thought God died,” Wylanda said. “He died on the cross many years ago.”

Miriam stoutly nodded her head. “Oh, He died, all right. He died for you and me. He took everyone’s sins on His shoulders and drank every drop of His Father’s wrath so we wouldn’t have to. But He’s not dead anymore,” she proclaimed. “He rose from the grave three days after He was crucified and conquered death and sin!” Her eyes bright, she asked, “Do you believe that, Wylanda?”

Wyladan raised an eyebrow and tapped her forehead thoughtfully, carefully thinking of her words. “I mean. . .yeah, I believe in God. I believe He’s real and He’s divine and that He died on the cross and that He’s three people in one—Father, Son, and Spirit.” She hesitated a moment, as if uncertain of something.

Miriam prodded, “So what do you not believe?”

Wylanda acted a bit startled by the question, but answered, “Well, I don’t believe that God loves everyone like some Christians say he does. I mean, like, what about those with bad backgrounds and incredibly evil pasts? Why in the world would God want anything to do with them? I also do not believe He rose from the dead. If He really is alive, he should be caring for and protecting His creation, and from what I’ve seen, that’s not the case. There’s so much evil in the world and hardly any good, you know. If I were God, I wouldn’t allow anything terrible to happen.”

Miriam nodded, though she was slightly puzzled by Wylanda’s views of the world. “Can you explain why you believe what you do?”

Wylanda scratched her head and looked at her freshly painted fingernails. “Um. . .well, I mean, from what my old public school teachers taught me, the Bible is not a Book to be taken literally. You have to use your brain and decide which parts are reliable and which parts that weren’t mean to be taken literally. . .” He voice trailed off as she noticed Miriam staring at her.

“But Wylanda,” Miriam insisted, spreading out her hands, “if you don’t believe certain parts of the Bible, why believe any part of it?”

Wylanda didn’t know how to answer. “Are you trying to be smart with me?” she angrily demanded.

“No,” Miriam said, shaking her head. “I’m trying to get you to think.” She took a deep breath and rushed on. “You see, Wylanda, the Bible lines up with history and the world today perfectly. Everything is in line with what the Bible says. Prophecies from the Bible have been and are being fulfilled even today.”

“Maybe so, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to believe everything the Bible says,” Wylanda muttered. “Not unless you can prove to me it’s trustworthy.”

Miriam frowned, but pressed on. “Okay, think of this: If one part of the Bible isn’t trustworthy, should any part be trusted?”

Wylanda just looked at her.

“Or think of this: Why would you believe in something that’s not fully trustworthy?”

Wylanda still didn’t reply. She couldn’t answer the young girl’s questions adequately. “I don’t know,” she said finally, “and I don’t care. The point is, I really don’t want anything to do with all that religion. It’s a waste of time.”

Miriam crossed her arms and got right up in Wylanda’s face, causing her to back away a few steps. “Wylanda, I will say this: Christianity is not a religion. Christianity is trusting in God for salvation and asking Him to be your Lord and Savior. Once that happens, He now governs your life. Now religion—that is working your way to salvation through good works.”

Wylanda blinked, nonplussed for a minute, but she snapped back, “Still, I don’t want to answer to Jesus for everything I ever do. If I’m not saved, I don’t have to go to Him all the time and repent of my wrongdoings, nor do I have to bother with being sure to spend time with Him. I’d rather not do that.”

“Everyone’s going to answer to Jesus one day whether they want to or not,” Miriam retorted. “If you’re saved, you go to heaven. If not, you go to hell. It’s as simple as that. And I don’t care what anyone else thinks—God knows each individual person’s heart and knows whether they are saved or not. Don’t think anyone can run from God, because they can’t. Everyone will either go to one of two places—heaven or hell. Your choice.”

Wylanda’s eyes grew wide as she witnessed Miriam—three years younger than herself—boldly proclaiming the truth to her. For some unknown reason, that made Wylanda feel very small and cowardly, but she couldn’t tell why.

\Wylanda opened her mouth, about to speak, but then shut it her and said quietly, “Okay, then. I get that.” She brushed a grasshopper off her dress and straightened a lock of her hair, then looked at the ground. “Um, please tell me, Miriam, how God can want anything to do with evil people.”

Miriam studied the girl, wondering if she truly wanted to know or was just looking for an excuse to mock her. But there was nothing mocking or sarcastic in Wylanda’s looks.

“Everyone is evil, Wylanda,” Miriam explained. “We’re all born sinners. There’s no pick-and-choose method when it comes to who’s evil and who’s not. Romans 3:23 says, ‘For all have sinned and come short of the glory of God.’ All sin and deserve to go to hell.” She sighed heavily and sadly shook her head. “It all goes back to the Garden of Eden. The world was originally a perfect place, where men and God could talk and be together in perfect harmony. But when Eve ate of the fruit from the tree which Go forbade her to eat from, the fellowship between God and man was broken. God hates sin and can’t look upon it.”

“The why didn’t God stop Eve from disobeying?” Wylanda asked.

Miriam shrugged. “He could have, but then Eve would have been a robot, forced to do what God wanted her to.”

“But I thought God wanted us to do right.”

“He does, but He won’t force us to do so,” Miriam said. “He gives us a choice to do what’s right or wrong. And as Christians, we should want to please God and strive to be like Him. That’s not to say we won’t ever mess up, okay, because we will. We’re not perfect. We still have a sin nature. But God is merciful and will forgive us if we go to Him and repent.”

Miriam felt a thrill run through her. She was actually ministering to someone about God! This was possibly the best thing to happen to her next to her conversion.

“Okay, I get it,” Wylanda said softly. “But what about those with awful backgrounds, like mine?”

“God loves those kinds of people too!” The smallest smile worked its way across Miriam’s face. “But even though there are those who have been brutally abused or have messed up, God doesn’t care. He cares nothing about the past, creed, or ethnicity of someone. All He wants is for all to come to Him and be His children.”

Wylanda nodded understandingly. “I get that.” Then she frowned. “But, um, I have another question.”

“Uh-huh?”

“ Why does God have to send us to hell for committing some small sins, such as lying or stealing something? Our sins are small compared to eternity, so why does He judge us so harshly? I mean, I don’t really think the punishment fits the crime.”

Miriam looked off in the distance and chewed her lip, trying to think of a way to explain the answer to Wylanda. “Okay.” She faced Wylanda again. “Think of this scenario: Suppose a heartless murderer took only one minute to strangle a young child, okay?” Seeing Wylanda’s disgusted expression, she hastened to add, “Sorry if this sounds graphic, but bear with me. Suppose it took only a minute to kill this young girl. Now here’s the question: Would you put him in prison for the same amount of time it took to commit the crime?”

Wylanda shook her head. “No.”

“That’s right. Now picture this: Say this same murderer kills the king of Dreamland, and it takes only thirty seconds. Would you put him in prison for that same length of time in which he was able to murder the king?”

Again Wylanda said no.

“But why not?” Miriam inquired innocently.

“Because that’s not serving justice!” Wylanda protested. “A murderer who kills a king deserves to be put in prison for life, not a few seconds! Justice needs to be served, and the only way to obtain justice is for the murderer to serve a punishment proportionate to the crime he committed.”

“That’s correct,” Miriam said. “Time in prison for assaulting someone depends on the status of the person, right? And killing the king would definitely be at the top of the list.”

“But what does this have to do with my question?”

“God is the Ruler of Creation. He is majestic, wonderful, and awesome. He is above every earthly king or emperor. And sinning against Him requires a very heavy price to pay, which is death. We deserve to die, both physically and spiritually. Therefore, Wylanda, God is indeed giving us a just punishment.”

Wylanda folded her arms. “Who taught you all of this, Miriam?”

“My mother!” Miriam sang.

Wylanda looked surprised, then confused, and last of all troubled, but said nothing. She just glanced at Miriam and then walked off without another word. Miriam watched her go, wondering what was going on in that mind of hers. Then the seven-year-old took to her heels and ran off toward the tree house.

 

* * * * *

 

“Guys! Hey, guys!” Cloudy was roused by Miriam’s excited voice and opened her eyes. She had been taking a lovely nap next to Scazzarda in the shade. Now she stretched, got up, and ambled her way over to her friends.

“Oh, Miriam!” Arrow called, waving a paw. “Hi! What did your mom want you for?”

Miriam was practically wriggling with excitement as she plopped down next to Star. She leaned forward, her eyes bright with joy as she said in a stage whisper, “My mom’s having a baby!”

“What!” the children chorused.

“It’s true! My mom’s pregnant!”

“Congratulations,” came a Spanish-accented voice from the top of a nearby tree. Startled, Miriam looked up and saw the knight standing there, his cape drawn about himself. “Having a baby is always exciting. My daughter is having one nerself.”

“You have a daughter?” asked Cloudy. “I didn’t know that.”

“Yes, I do.” Miriam thought the knight’s voice seemed a little sad as he said the words, and she wondered why. However, she was too afraid to ask.

Arrow cleared his throat loudly, causing everyone to turn to toward him. H too had sensed the knight’s unhappy mood and wanted to change the subject. “I, for one, absolutely can’t wait for the feast tonight,” he said. “Miss Springtime says we get to stand up and say what we’re thankful for.”

“And I suppose you’re thankful for this bunch of losers,” came an all-too-familiar voice from behind Star. Arrow gasped softly and the knight visibly tensed. Miriam slowly turned her head and saw Wylanda standing there, her brown eyes dark and intimidating.

“Uhhhh. . .” Miriam was a loss for words.

“What do you want?” Sharkell asked coolly. “We’re trying to have a private conversation here.”

“It won’t be so private once you say it at the dinner table tonight.” Wylanda laughed as if she had just heard the funniest joke on the planet. “You’re talking about what you’re thankful for, aren’t you?”

That was Miriam’s chance. “Yes, Wylanda. Why don’t you join us?”

What?!” Lily roared. “She’s a brat!”

“No way is she sitting with us! She insulted us and called us losers!” Nika chimed in.

“Okay, that is quite. . .” Scazzarda began, but Wylanda cut her off.

“Oh, be quiet, old grandma.” Back to the children. “I wouldn’t join you guys for the world. Besides, why would I? I don’t have anything to be thankful for.”

“Huh?” Cloudy blinked a few times, completely astounded. “But of course you do!”

“Yeah? Like what?” Wylanda smirked. “Tell me, Prophesied One!”

Cloudy’s mind was spinning with all sorts of things Wylanda could be thankful for. “Well, for one, what about your big mansion and your jewels and your fancy dresses?”

Wylanda suddenly acted very uncomfortable. “I. . .No, I-I don’t. . .”

“What’s the matter, Wylanda? Cat got your tongue?” Sniper asked, a hint of a smirk on his lips.

Wylanda bit her lip. “I. . .I meant that those things don’t make me happy,” she rushed to explain.

“I’m not in the least bit surprised,” Eloise muttered under her breath. “If you don’t have God, you’re not gonna be happy with anything.”

“What about your parents?” Cloudy queried. “Aren’t you grateful for them?”

Wylanda answered defiantly, “No, I’m not grateful for them. They’re so fussy and overprotective of me and won’t let me go anywhere without an adult except for school. They’re stupid, religious, holier-than-thou Christians who make me read my Bible and pray with them every day. Every day, they tell me I need to accept Jesus as my personal Lord and Savior. I’m sick of it.”

That surprised Cloudy in more ways than one. She had no idea that Wylanda’s parents were Christians.

But Scazzarda was horrified. “Why, Wylanda Coven!” she exclaimed. “How can you say such awful things about your parents? They love you and try so hard to raise you right.”

“What do I care?” Wylanda shot back. “They can love me, but I don’t love them.”

The children were speechless. The knight, feeling anger and sorrow rising in him, suppressed it with all his strength. But Eloise was thoroughly fed up with Wylanda’s verbal abuse. She stood up and shrieked loudly at Wylanda, causing her to recoil. “I’ve had it with you, Wylanda Coven! I will not put up your insults and complaints any longer! You have no clue what it means to love, you spoiled, rotten girl! You’re a huge loser! You make fun of everyone and laugh at others that are less fortunate than you! You make them feel unappreciated and unloved! Well, guess what? If you show hate to others, I’m going to show hate right back to you!”

“Eloise!” Nika cried. “Eloise, what about the Golden R—”

“No!” Eloise yelled at her little sister. She was so enraged she was shaking. “I don’t give a lick about the Golden Rule anymore! If Wylanda wants to spread hate around, I’ll shove it right back in her face!” Turning back to Wylanda, she continued, “You’ve made others feel miserable for far too long, Wylanda! Now I’m gonna make you feel a million times worse! You’re stupid, you’re ugly, you’re an idiot, and I can’t stand being around you! I’m surprised anyone could! You want to know my honest opinion on you? Well, too bad if you don’t, because here it is: You don’t deserve any love! You. . .are. . . hated!”

Eloise! Cloudy screamed at the top of her lungs. “Stop it right now!!”

Eloise stopped yelling and looked at her friend, who was staring at her as if she were a crazy person who had escaped a mental institution. Suddenly realizing what she had done, Eloise gasped and sank to the ground, guilt flooding her through. What had she done? Why had she said such terrible things?

The entire crowd had heard the heated speech and were staring, shocked, at Eloise and Wylanda. Even Mrs. Coven was there, her gaze disapproving as she glared at Eloise with contempt. There was no sound but the whooshing of the wind and the rustle of leaves.

Eloise and Wylanda looked at each other for the longest time, but neither one spoke. Wylanda’s look was one of fright and hurt as she stared with wild eyes at the other girl. Eloise knew she had upset Wylanda with her unkind words and needed to apologize for that. She stood up and said softly, “Um, Wylanda, I. . .”

“No!” Wylanda exclaimed, backing away. Her eyes were full of terror. “Don’t-Don’t you dare come near me!”

“But I want to. . .”

“Get away from me!” With those words, Wylanda took off for the house and disappeared among the crowd. Oddly, Mrs. Coven did not try to stop her.

Cloudy, her eyes narrowed, knew that the time had come to have a calm, serious talk with Wylanda. The longer this unrest went on, the worse things would get with her. With these thoughts in her head, Cloudy started off toward the house.

“Cloudy, where are you going?” Arrow called as she started to walk off.

“To talk to Wylanda,” Cloudy replied without turning around.

“What? Are you joking?” Star inquired. “That girl hates you! She wouldn’t listen to you for anything!”

“Well, I’m going to try,” Cloudy said firmly, a determined and fierce glint in her eye. “Lord knows what Wylanda’s going through. I believe He’s calling me to talk to her.”

Book 1: Thankful Hearts

Chapter One: Wylanda Coven

 

November 19, Spring Breeze, Dreamland. . .

 

“Look out!” Cloudy cried.

Sniper, who was running a race with Yodi and Pancake, skidded to a stop to avoid slamming into his sister. “Cloudy, what are you doing standing in the middle of our racecourse?” Sniper demanded. “You’re in the way!”

“She’s always in the way,” Yodi said.

“That’s because she’s a girl,” Sniper sneered, a look of triumph in his eyes.

Cloudy drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, counting to ten. She didn’t want to blurt out something impolite. “Mommy told me to tell you that it’s time for dinner, so come inside now,” she said.

Sniper shrugged, then turned to Pancake and Yodi. “Sorry, guys, we’ll have to forfeit the race for now. We gotta eat.”

Cloudy slowly followed Sniper and her other brothers inside, pausing only to smell the roses. Springtime was in the kitchen and setting the table when they walked in. “Hello, children,” she said sweetly. “Go wash up. Supper will be ready in a few minutes.”

Cloudy joined her other siblings as they crowded into the bathroom, struggling to be the first to get to the sink. Cloudy stood a little ways off from the arguing and shouting puppies, staring uncomfortably at the floor. She didn’t like hearing anyone yell at or fight or make fun of one another. She knew to follow the Golden Rule: “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” Jesus Himself had said this in the Bible, and Cloudy determined to live for the Lord and follow Him no matter what.

“What is happening in here?!” Springtime cried, darting into the bathroom and trying to separate the wrestling children. “Stop this! Stop right this minute!”

At last, she managed to quiet the puppies down. Frowning disapprovingly at them, she said in a sharp tone, “I don’t want to hear you all yelling at each other again. You need to get along. Don’t forget, God put you in the same family. You have to love, show kindness, and extend grace to one another when you mess up. Understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” they all answered respectfully in one voice except for Sniper, who tossed his head.

“Good. Now wash up and be respectful,” said Springtime, exiting the bathroom. The puppies obeyed, lining up carefully.

Sniper smirked at Cloudy as he passed by her to exit the bathroom. “Too bad you’re the youngest, Cloudy,” he laughed. “If you were the oldest, you’d get the special privileges that all the firstborn children do.” He stood tall and bragged, “Mommy like me the best ‘cause I’m the eldest.”

“Who cares?” Cloudy scoffed. “If firstborns act as mean as you do, then I’m perfectly content not to be one.”

Sniper uttered a low growl in his throat. “Excuse me? I’m the oldest child here. You have to obey me!”

“Oh, brother! You’re not my boss! You can’t order me around!” Cloudy retorted.

“Can you two please shut up now?” Star sighed, turning to fix them with her bothered gaze, her dark blue eyes communicating annoyance. “Honestly, your bickering gets sort of bothersome sometimes.”

“We’re not bickering—” Cloudy started to say, but Sniper cut her off.

“You’re one to talk. You who were arguing not ten minutes ago!” snapped Sniper, glaring at Star.

Star rolled her eyes, thoroughly fed up with Sniper’s attitude. “Well, unlike you, Mr. I-Love-Being-A-Brat, I am not rude and nasty to everyone like you are!”

“Wanna rephrase that?” Sniper snarled.

“No.”

Cloudy shook her head. Why couldn’t her siblings just stop going at each other!

 

* * * * *

 

Nearly twenty minutes later, the puppies and their parents were seated around the table, devouring fruit salad, yams, yogurt, and lemon crème pie. Cloudy complimented her mother on her excellent cooking skills.

Springtime flushed. “I try my best,” was her humble reply.

Showerstorm laid down his fork and asked Cloudy, “So, Cloudy, how was school for you kids today? Learn anything new?”

Cloudy shrugged. “I learned how to solve one-digit division problems in math and we learned how energy works in science. But otherwise, I didn’t really learn anything very new.” Her voice was toneless.

Springtime flashed a worried look at her daughter. “Dear, are you okay? You’re not doing badly in school, are you?”

“Of course she’s not,” Star broke in. “Out of the whole class, her grades are the highest.”

“Really, Star,” Cloudy said firmly. “We don’t need to brag, okay? It’s not that big of a deal.”

“I’d say it is,” Springtime answered. “If you’re doing the best out of everyone, then I’d say you’re well on your way to a good future in education.”

Sniper took a sip of water. “Well, actually, she just cheats.”

“What!” Showerstorm blurted out.

“Will you shut it? I do not,” Cloudy said. “If anything, that sounds like something you would do.”

Sniper was briefly nonplussed, but blinked and said stoutly, “Well, you know I don’t cheat, either.”

“Okay, children, let’s not start something stupid, okay?” Springtime said. “We want to be on our best behavior, don’t we?”

Showerstorm sounded displeased when he said, “I hope you children don’t behave this way in school.”

“Oh, we don’t,” Sniper said. “However, there’s a certain girl who loves to pester the life out of Clo—”

Before Sniper could finish his sentence, Cloudy kicked him under the table.

“Ow!” Sniper exclaimed. “Who kicked me?”

“Will you be quiet?” Cloudy hissed in his ear. “Don’t tell them that!”

“Fine, fine,” Sniper grumbled, taking another sip of his water.

“I’m sorry,” Springtime said, surprised at Cloudy’s reaction. “What were you saying, Sniper?”

Sniper glanced at Cloudy, but her expression was stern as she shook her head ever so slightly. “Uhh. . .I was just saying that there’s a certain girl at school who loves, uh, when it’s cloudy outside.”

“What does that have to do with pestering?” Showerstorm asked, sounding extremely confused.

“Oh, ah, you see, um. . .” He looked to Star for help, but she just shrugged. “Uh, she-she loves it when her brother pesters her on cloudy days.” He grinned weakly. “It’s a bit weird, but you know. . .”

Springtime and Showerstorm looked at each other, their expressions saying plain as day, “That made no sense whatsoever.”

“O-kay. That sounds unique,” Springtime said. “Very unique.” She cleared her throat. “Okay. You children had better get to bed now. You have a busy school day tomorrow and you wouldn’t want to sleep through the lessons, would you?”

 

* * * * *

 

The next morning, Cloudy packed her schoolbooks and lunchbox in her black backpack scattered with red roses. She slipped the backpack over her shoulders, then wrapped a red scarf around her neck. The November days were very chilly now, and the nights were even colder.

“Are you kids ready yet?” shouted Springtime as she fussed with Cloudy’s bow. “Hurry up! You’re going to be late!”

“I can’t find my backpack, Mommy! Sniper hid it!” Yodi hollered.

“No, I didn’t,” Sniper called. “It’s in your bedroom, you idiot!”

“I already checked there twice and I couldn’t find it! I left it by the window yesterday, but it’s not there anymore! You did hide it! I know you did!”

“No! He’s lying, Mommy!”

“I am not! You’re the liar!”

“I did not take your backpack! Don’t blame me because you misplaced it! You need to keep up with your own junk!”

“You took it and you’re lying about it!” Yodi screamed. “Give it back right now!”

Springtime felt like she was going to explode at these kids if they did not shut their mouths and hurry up and get to school. They were driving her nuts, especially Sniper and Yodi!

“Yodi,” Star said, appearing at the foot of the stairs and holding up a brown backpack. “Is this yours?”

Yodi stared at the backpack for a second. “Why, yes!” he exclaimed in astonishment. “But where did you find it?”

“You dropped it by the front door yesterday when you came home from school and forgot to take it up to your room,” replied Star.

Yodi blushed. “Oh.”

Cloudy rolled her eyes.

“Aha!” Sniper yelled at the top of his lungs. “I told you! I told you I didn’t take it! You liar!”

“Okay, I’m sorry!” Yodi cried. “But how was I supposed to believe you? You’ve taken and hidden my backpack many times before in the past!”

“Well, just because I’ve done it in the past doesn’t mean I did it now, does it?”

Yodi slowly shook his head. “Well, no.”

“There! You see? You assumed I was the big fat liar and in reality you’re the big fat liar!”

“Dude, I said I was sorry! Let it go!”

Sniper blew out his breath and stormed off back into his room in a huff. Yodi stepped carefully down the stairs, took the backpack from Star, and slipped it onto his back. “Thanks for finding my backpack, Star.”

“You’re welcome,” Star said. “But we have to get a move on before Mommy blows a gasket.”

The rest of the puppies skipped down the stairs and received a hug from Springtime, then rushed out the house and crossed the street to their school, Emmanuel Elementary, a Christian school. Cloudy always loved going to school, except for one thing. . .

“Uh-oh,” Star whispered, quickly shielding Cloudy with her body as they stepped into the cool hallway. “Don’t look now, but here comes Wylanda Coven and her crew.”

Cloudy peeked around Star and saw a brown-haired humanoid girl around ten years old standing with five or six other kids about the same age. Cloudy sighed. Wylanda was a spoiled brat who bothered younger kids and bragged about this mansion she lived in and all the pretty things she had and how her parents were so wealthy. Though Cloudy hadn’t told her parents, Wylanda always annoyed her and played pranks on her. Once when Cloudy was drinking from the hallway fountain, Wylanda had dumped pencil shavings on her head. Another time she had put pepper in Cloudy’s backpack and Cloudy had sneezed continuously for two days straight without knowing why. Springtime worried she might be coming down with something until Cloudy figured out it was just pepper. But the most bothersome thing Wylanda did was gossip about Cloudy’s mother behind Cloudy’s back. Cloudy was not okay with that and wanted so much to get back at Wylanda, but she dared not.

Star put her mouth close to Cloudy’s ear. “Have you told Mommy and Daddy about Wylanda and how she’s been bugging you?”

Cloudy shook her head.

“Why not?” Star asked.

“It’s not bothering me,” Cloudy lied.

Star scoffed. “Not bothering you? Ha. Lies. I know perfectly well you’re annoyed by this. Why don’t you just tell them?”

“Why don’t you?” Cloudy shot back.

“Because it’s not my place to tell them. It’s yours,” Star said as if the answer were completely obvious.” Besides, me or your brothers telling Mommy and Daddy about your plight won’t teach you to speak up for yourself.”

Cloudy knew her sister was right, but refused to admit it.

“Well, lookie here!” Wylanda said loudly, advancing toward Cloudy. “Nice to see you again, Prophesied One.”

For a moment, just a moment, Cloudy wished she were not the Prophesied One. Then maybe she wouldn’t attract so much attention from the bullies. “Hi, Wylanda,” Cloudy said, forcing herself to speak politely.

“On your way to the kindergarten room?” Wylanda said condescendingly. “That’s cute. Wonder what you’ll be doing today. Maybe learning how to draw. Just don’t eat the crayons, okay? They’re not good for your digestion.” She laughed, and her in-crowd followed her example.

“Okay, that’s enough, Wylanda,” Star snapped. “My sister had more talent in one paw than you do in your entire body!”

“Oh, is that so? Well, I’m a whole lot smarter. After all, I’m in fourth grade.”

“I don’t care if you’re in ninth grade,” Sniper said rudely. “Being bigger than someone else gives you no right to be mean to little kids. Especially kindergartners. Girl, use your common sense!”

Cloudy thought that Sniper’s statement was rather ironic, considering the fact that he was mean to her just about every second of every day. Still, she knew he loved her too much to let anyone else bother her.

“She can’t,” Yodi said sadly. “She doesn’t have any.”

“Yeah,” Sharkell agreed. “She’s too dumb to have any common sense.”

“You boys need to grow up,” said Wylanda angrily. “How dare you say such rude things to a lady?”

“No, you need to grow up,” Star retorted. “How do you ever expect to make a life for yourself if you’re always mean? You’ll never be able to get a job, much less a husband, unless he acts just like you.”

“I’ll manage somehow,” Wylanda said calmly.

“Ugh,” Star groaned.

“Star, never mind,” Waffle said. “Let’s just get to our room. We don’t need to engage with her, you know.”

“Yeah. Okay,” Star said.

The puppies turned away and were about to walk off to their classroom when they heard Wylanda say, “You know, Cloudy, your mom’s so ugly I get repulsed when I see her.” She burst into laughter.

Cloudy stopped in her tracks and whirled sharply to face Wylanda, who was smirking at her. “What?” Cloudy said in a low tone. “What did you say about my mother?”

Wylanda grinned. “Your mother’s so ugly I get repulsed when I see her.”

“Don’t say that about Mommy!” Cloudy ordered. “She’s very beautiful, probably much more beautiful than yours!”

“You’re ugly too. Just like your mom.” Wylanda burst into laughter.

That was all Cloudy could take. She was furious. No one talked about her mother that way and got away with it! Without even stopping to consider the consequences, she leapt on Wylanda and knocked her to the floor, and Wylanda screamed and pushed Cloudy off her. Cloudy grabbed the hem of Wylanda’s dress in her teeth and tugged it so hard a piece of it tore.

Wylanda let out a loud shriek. “You moron!” she shouted. “That was my best school dress! It cost over a thousand dollars!”

“I don’t care how expensive it was!” Cloudy yelled. “No one calls my mother ugly!” She bit Wylanda’s dress sleeve and yanked at it with all her strength while Wylanda tried to shove her away.

Star was almost hysterical. “Cloudy, no! Stop!” she cried in horror. “You’re gonna get in trouble!”

“It doesn’t matter!” Cloudy tore the dress sleeve off and dropped it onto the floor, then lunged at Wylanda again. Wylanda screamed loudly as Cloudy’s claws raked her arm, and she grabbed Cloudy by the scruff and slammed her down onto the hard linoleum.

“What in the world?!” the third-grade teacher cried out as she darted over to the two struggling girls and with great difficulty separated them. “Stop this right now! You girls ought to be ashamed of yourselves! Fighting in the hallway! What’s gotten into you?”

Wylanda coughed and wiped some blood off her dress. “I’m sorry, ma’am,” she said sweetly, “but Cloudy here was attacking me!”

The teacher looked shocked. “What?! Why?!”

“Well. I just—”

“She called my mother ugly!” Cloudy yelled.

“No, I didn’t,” Wylanda told the teacher. “She’s lying. What really happened is that I invited her to my house for the weekend, and she called me an idiot and said she wouldn’t come over even if I begged her to. So I just said okay and walked off without reacting, so she called my mom a moron and dared me to fight. I didn’t want to, and that was when she leaped on me and attacked me!”

The teacher frowned disapprovingly at Cloudy and shook her head in disgust. “I’m afraid you need to come with me to the principal’s office, Cloudy.”

“What?” Cloudy gasped. “But. . .But. . .”

“No buts. Come with me now.”

“Wait, ma’am!” Star called frantically. “It wasn’t Cloudy’s fault! It was Wylanda who—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” the teacher said sternly. “You guys need to get to class anyway.”

“But Cloudy didn’t—”

“I said I don’t want to hear it! Get to class!” the teacher commanded, and the puppies scurried away.

“Come with me,” the teacher firmly told Cloudy, and Cloudy followed, her tail drooping.

 

* * * * *

 

Cloudy sat on a leather chair in front of Principal Millie Daze, who was eyeing Cloudy with a steady gaze. Cloudy couldn’t look at her. She felt so ashamed.

“I heard what happened from Mrs. Monsoon,” Principal Daze said shortly. “She said you attacked Wylanda Coven and tore her dress because she wouldn’t fight you.”

Cloudy said nothing, but kept her eyes trained on the floor. What was there to say? Even if she told the truth, she doubted anyone would believe her anyway.

Principal Daze straightened up in her chair. “Okay. So what really happened out there?”

Cloudy couldn’t believe her ears. Had she actually heard Mrs. Daze right? She raised her eyes to the principal’s face and saw that Mrs. Daze was smiling. Could it be? Did Mrs. Daze know Wylanda’s story was false?

“Wait a second,” Cloudy said, leaning forward in her chair. “Are you saying you don’t believe Wylanda?”

Principal Daze laughed. “You’re kidding, right? There’s no way I would ever believe anything that girl told me. She’s been coming here for three years and she’s lied to me several times before. No, I don’t believe her story. But I would like to hear yours.”

“Mine?” Cloudy was bewildered. “But why?”

“I believe you will tell me the complete truth,” Principal Daze explained. “I know your mother is raising you and your brothers and sister to be honest. Go ahead, Cloudy. I trust you.”

So cloudy told her everything—from Wylanda being mean to her ever since she started school in September to Wylanda calling her mother ugly. Principal Daze did not interrupt at all during the story. She merely sat with her chin in her hand and listened until Cloudy was finished.

“Okay, I see,” Mrs. Daze said. “Wylanda was being mean to you and insulted your mother and you got angry and attacked her, is that right?”

“Yes,” answered Cloudy. Then she hung her head. “But I suppose I shouldn’t have jumped on her, huh?”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” Principal Daze replied. “But I can understand if you did. Little kids tend to fly off the handle if something or someone gets on their nerves.” She rolled her eyes. “Believe me, I know. I have three kids all under the age of five. They can be a handful.”

Cloudy nodded. “So. . .am I in trouble?” she asked in a small voice.

Principal Daze shook her head. “After hearing both sides of the story and considering all the evidence, I’d say you had a right to attack her. Not that I’m condoning you acting so violent, but she had it coming. I will punish her and let you off the hook just this once. But,” she added sternly, leaning over her desk do that she was glaring Cloudy right in the eye, “I will say this. DO NOT ever attack anyone in this school again—or anywhere, for that matter—or you will end up in severe trouble. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Cloudy said respectfully, sitting up straight.

“Good. Now get to class.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Cloudy jumped out of the chair and turned to leave, but then looked back. “Principal Daze. . .thank you.”

Mrs. Daze grinned. “You’re welcome. Now get going!”

Cloudy left the office and hurried to class. On the way, she grabbed her backpack on the floor where she had dropped it in her fight with Wylanda and dashed to her classroom just as Mrs. Ivy was starting math, their second subject of the day.

Cloudy entered the room and the door banged shut. The sound echoed throughout the room and caused every student to look her direction.

Mrs. Ivy blinked. “Cloudy, you’re late. Where were you?”

“With Principal Daze,” Cloudy answered, taking her seat beside a gray husky she had never seen before. She gazed at him curiously, and he briefly glanced at her and then returned his attention to his math book.

Upon seeing Cloudy looking at the newcomer, Mrs. Ivy chuckled and said, “That’s Arrow, Cloudy. He moved here just last week.”

Cloudy nodded, barely hearing Mrs. Ivy’s words. “Hi, Arrow,” she said, trying to be friendly.

“Hi, Cloudy,” Arrow replied, beaming her a warm smile. Cloudy felt her heart skip a beat as she turned to page 57 in her book. She wondered if she and Arrow were going to be the best of friends. . .maybe more.

After math and science came history, and this was where Cloudy learned about something very interesting that she had never heard of before. It was a holiday called Thanksgiving. Mrs, Ivy taught about how, when, and where the first Thanksgiving originated in Dreamland, and Cloudy listened with rapt fascination.

“Three hundred years ago,” Mrs. Ivy began, “a group called the Pilgrims set aboard a ship called the Moonflower to go to the New World. They left their hometown to seek religious freedom, or the freedom to worship God. Their time on the ship was very hard and unhealthy, but none of that mattered when they reached the New World. They built houses and farmed for their living. However, many died that first winter of disease and poor nutrition. But in the spring, an Indian named Sumosot came to help them, as well as another Indian named Squinto. Missisoit and his tribe helped them too, and the Pilgrims made a peace treaty with the Indians. And that fall, they all had a big feast and partied and praised God.”

Cloudy was amazed by the story, but she didn’t fully grasp why Thanksgiving was celebrated.

 

* * * * *

 

After school was dismissed at three o’clock that afternoon, Cloudy packed her books neatly in her backpack and left the school. The sun was shining and the sky was a bright blue, and a few rose petals from the school’s neatly trimmed rosebushes were at her feet. Cloudy bent down and sniffed one, sighing with delight at its smell. She had always loved roses. They were her favorite flower.

“Hey, Cloudy!” a voice called from behind her. Cloudy turned and smiled upon seeing Arrow. He looked even handsomer in the sunlight than he did in the classroom. His grayish-green eyes were bright with enthusiasm and his smile was contagious. Cloudy sighed dreamily. He was so handsome, he could be the ideal picture of any girl’s dream boy.

Wait, Cloudy thought to herself, frowning. Why do I feel this way toward Arrow? Am I in love? That’s way too weird. I’m too young to have a boyfriend. Why am I falling for him? I don’t even know him that well. I’ve absolutely got to stop myself before I start acting all mushy and lovey-dovey toward him.

“On your way home, Arrow?” Cloudy asked as he fell in step with her.

“Nah,” Arrow replied. “I just wanted to talk to you real quick.”

“Really?” Cloudy’s pulse quickened in anticipation. “About?”

“Well,” Arrow said slowly, scuffing his paw in the dirt, “I don’t have any friends here, so I was wondering if. . .well, if, if you would. . .if you would be my friend.” He smiled a little. “You’re a really nice girl.”

Cloudy beamed excitedly. “I’d love to be your friend, Arrow,” she said sweetly. A little embarrassed by her tone of voice, she quickly cleared her throat and asked nonchalantly, “So, Arrow, where did you originally come from?”

Arrow paused in midstep, looking as though he weren’t quite sure what she was asking. “Um, my mother?” he said uncertainly.

Cloudy laughed hysterically as Arrow glanced uneasily at her. “You’re funny. But seriously, where are you from?”

Arrow gazed blankly at her. “I have no clue what you mean.”

“I mean, what location were you from before you moved here?” Cloudy asked, being more clear this time. She chided herself for her own thoughtlessness. That’s what you get when you have eyes only for a handsome boy, she thought.

“Oh! I was born and raised in Leupochena,” Arrow said. “It’s a tiny town off the northern coast of Spring Breeze.”

Leupochena? Cloudy thought. “My Auntie Summer and Uncle Soldier live there with my cousins.”

“Hey! My dad’s name is Soldier!” Arrow said, chucking a little. “But my mom is Ruby. I also have two sisters named Turquoise and Opal and an older brother named Button. I live in an apartment near Oromo Thuli Hospital.”

“I have five brothers named Sniper, Sharkell, Yodi, Pancake, and Waffle. Snuper is really annoying and rude. I also have a sister named Star. She can be a pain, but overall she’s nice. I live in that house across the street there. I love living there. I even have a balcony I can stand on and look out at the pasture. It’s amazing! And I like my school too! It’s the best ever! Mrs. Ivy is the nicest teacher in the whole world. Oh, by the way, did she tell you I’m the Prophesied One?”

Arrow grinned widely and held up a paw to stop Cloudy’s seemingly endless chatter. “No, she didn’t tell me. But I’m glad I met you, Prophesied One. You must be famous!”

“I don’t get much recognition at my age,” Cloudy confessed. Then a scowl darkened her face. “Actually, no, I take that back. Wylanda Coven, the school bully, seems to enjoy bugging me because I’m the prophesied Star Warrior. Why, just today she called my mom ugly and I attacked her!”

Arrow’s eyes widened. “Whoa! You attacked her? That’s going a bit too far, don’t you think? I mean, you could’ve walked away and not engaged with her.”

“I realize that now, and Principal Daze understood my actions,” Cloudy said. “But she warned me never to attack anyone again or I’m busted.”

“Ooh, that’s scary. Better not attack anyone, then.”

“I won’t.”

For the next fifteen minutes, the two spoke to one another and got to learn much about each other. Both had been born in March that year and were nearly the same age, Arrow being a few days older. Both were Christians and wanted to be missionaries when they grew up, but Arrow wanted to be a preacher instead of a traveling missionary like Cloudy.

At a quarter to four, Cloudy looked up at the clock on the front of the school and gasped. “Oh, goodness!” she exclaimed, leaping to her feet. “I should have been home the minute school was dismissed! Gotta go!”

“Pray that your mother forgives you,” Arrow teased, his eyes dancing.

“Very funny,” Cloudy said. “See you!”

“See you tomorrow!” Arrow shouted after her as she darted away.

 

Book 1: Thankful Hearts

Introduction

 

March 21, Spring Breeze, Dreamland. . .

 

One dazzling spring morning, in the little region of Spring Breeze, Dreamland, seven puppies were born to Springtime and Showerstorm. The wind rushing through the open window, stirring the pink-edged curtains, seemed to whisper a silent promise of hope and rescue. The rose petals quivered in the breezes and the insects buzzed noisily.

Springtime, her radiant, emerald-colored eyes shining as brightly as the morning sun, cleaned each wriggling newborn with tender devotion and love, nudging them gently with her nose as they uttered tiny whimpering noises and shoved each other aside to be the first to nurse from her.

Showerstorm, the proud father, beamed at his lovely children and his alluring wife. “Well, dear, you did it!” he declared, his voice ringing out clear and strong as a church bell. “Seven puppies!”

Springtime nodded, smiling. “Five boys and two girls,” she confirmed. “But now,” she added, her voice thoughtful, “what should we name them?”

Showerstorm knit his brow. “Ah. . .well, I assumed you had already thought of names before they were born,” he confessed, glancing at the trembling babies.

Springtime bit her lip and shook her head. “No. I guess I was so excited at the thought of having puppies that I forgot to think of names for them until now.”

“Then we’ll brainstorm and use our lively imaginations to come up with really creative and unusual names for them!” retorted Showerstorm, tossing his head, his brown eyes filled with determination. Springtime had to smile at the look on his face.

“Okay,” she said agreeably. “I think the oldest should be. . .” She glanced down at the eldest child, a boy, as he fought his sisters and brothers to get milk. He seems so fiery and stubborn, she thought, watching him bump one of his brothers out of the way to eagerly guzzle down his share of milk. He likes to push the others around.

And then the perfect name came to mind. “His name shall be Sniper,” Springtime announced with certainty.

Showerstorm gazed down at Sniper for a minute, then burst into peals of laughter. “That’s the right name for him!” he chuckled. “What about the other boys?”

It took a few minutes to think of names for Sniper’s brothers, but in the end, Springtime managed to name them all. “The other boys—from the eldest to the youngest—will be named Sharkell, Yodi, Pancake, and Waffle.” She looked up at her husband. “Sound good?”

“It’s fantastic,” he assured her. “Now for the girls.”

The second-to-last puppy was a beautiful gray-and-white Siberian like Springtime’s sister, Summer. There was some debate about her. Springtime wanted to name her after Summer’s favorite flower, but Showerstorm wanted to name her after an object in space, such as a star or a galaxy. In the end, they decided to blend both of their ideas together and named her Azalea-Star, but they agreed to call her Star for short.

Springtime then turned her attention to the final puppy, a calmhearted black-and-white Malamute like herself. This one wasn’t fighting to get milk like the others but was instead patiently waiting her turn. Springtime has to smile at how calm and composed the child was, unlike the other high-strung puppies. “To be honest, I’m stuck on this little girl,” Springtime admitted. “I can’t think of a proper name for her.”

“Oreo?” Showerstorm suggested.

Springtime’s eyes widened. “No way!” she objected. “That’s a terrible name.”

Showerstorm smothered a giggle, yet tried to feign seriousness. “Um, okay. How about Luna?”

Springtime vigorously shook her head. “Not Luna, either. It has to be absolutely perfect.”

“Why absolutely perfect?” Showerstorm asked.

Spriingtime never answered, for she was distracted by her youngest daughter. The puppy rolled over onto her back in an unbothered manner and yawned, and as she rolled, Springtime caught sight of something dark on the bottom of the puppy’s left-front paw. She bent down and peered more closely at it, and as she did, her breath caught, her eyes growing wide. It was a diamond mark surrounded by a circlet of ten tiny stars all merged together. Springtime gasped in amazement, breathless with surprise.

“What is it?” Showerstorm asked urgently, and Springtime pointed to the mark with her paw. Showerstorm’s eyes opened wide.

“Well, what do you know!” he exclaimed, his voice delighted.

“Showerstorm!” Springtime exclaimed. “Do you see? Do you see? This is the one! The Star Warrior we’ve been waiting for!”

“She’s the one who was prophesied to set Dreamland free from Nightmare’s grasp,” Showerstorm said wonderingly. “Quantum, ancient ruler of the universe and the forger of the sacred sword, Mercuria, prophesied that a child born with this mark would be the sole rescuer of Dreamland!”

“Amazing!”

“Truly astounding, my dear!”

“And now the prophecy has been fulfilled!”

“Not quite,” Showerstorm reminded his wife. “The prophecy is only fulfilled when Nightmare dies.”

Springtime’s eyes flashed with fear, but her face remained unmoved. “But how can you even kill Nightmare?” she inquired, her voice low.

Showerstorm cast a puzzled glance at his wife. “What do you mean?”

“Nightmare is what his name tells—he’s a living nightmare,” she explained. “Dreams are only what you see in your mind—mirages of the mind, I call them.” Her eyes clouded, her dark lashes reflecting the sunlight streaming through the window. “In truth, I don’t think you could ever get rid of him. That demon’s got a lot of tricks up his sleeve!”

“Nothing our daughter can’t handle,” Showerstorm replied, sounding as steady and certain as a stout tree in a hurricane.

“You’re acting like she’s invincible,” Springtime snapped.

“I didn’t say that, but I’m not going to say I doubt her abilities, either. I believe she can take him down—with God’s help, that is.” He paused, then continued, “And as for Nightmare being killed, I’m sure he can be. But it would have to take a certain weapon.”

“What weapon is that?”

“I’m not sure. Perhaps she’ll be the one to find out the answer. Then again,” he added with calm realism, “she may not. There are other Star Warriors out there. And remember, the prophecy did not explicitly state that she was going to be the one to kill Nightmare. It just said she would free Dreamland from his rule.”

“But how can she free the citizens of Dreamland without first getting rid of him?”

Showerstorm shook his head. “The prophecy doesn’t say how she’ll free Dreamland. Perhaps she might have a backup crew who will assist her in her mission, but she’ll be the main, uh, hero, if that makes sense.”

Springtime nodded. “That actually makes sense. Yes, maybe that is how it will happen.”

Showerstorm smiled. “But we got off track,” he gently reminded her. “We were trying to think of what to name our special little girl.”

One word rolled of the tip of Springtime’s tongue: “Cloudburst.”

Showerstorm froze, his smile slipping slightly. “Cloudburst?” he repeated.

“Yes,” Springtime said. “A cloudburst is a sudden violent rainstorm,” she explained.

“I know that,” replied Showerstorm. “But why name her after a rainstorm?”

Springtime placed a paw around her daughter’s body and drew her close. “As a cloudburst is unexpected and unstoppable, this little Star Warrior is so.” She looked out the open parlor window at the blue sky dotted with only a few clouds. “And just as a rainstorm can cause dramatic effects on the earth, this girl will change the world in a big way.”

Showerstorm couldn’t forget the brightness in his wife’s eyes or the gentle smile she wore. Her happiness was contagious, and he caught it too. “If you desire to name her Cloudburst, then do so. I’m perfectly fine with it.”

“But let’s call her Cloudy,” Springtime told him. He nodded in agreement and both laughed, though neither knew why.

Cloudy yawned again and began to nurse from her mother. Springtime looked down at her little twin and nosed her, and she could have sworn that a smile flashed across Cloudy’s face. The wind wandered gently around the perimeter of the house and the scent of the roses out front permeated the air with a sweet-smelling fragrance.