The sound of a girl’s soulful wailing echoed down the stairs from the top of the bell tower.

  “That would be my poor, eccentric Olivia,” explained Carly. “When she gets into one of her dour moods, she likes to go up there and sing her pretty little heart out.”

  “It sounds downright eerie with that thunder and rain out there,” remarked Old Lady Marbles.

  Carly added, a bit defensively, “Well, she never had any proper singing lessons, so I don’t think her songs come out of her quite right.”

  She sighed, glancing toward the ceiling. “I’d better go fetch her. She hasn’t been herself these days, and it’s too dangerous to be up there during a thunderstorm like this.”

  “Marco, go with her,” Mrs. Cookie?Montebello urged.

  Marco set down his soup spoon and wiped his face with his napkin.

  “Stay,” said the elderly Water Witch, tugging gently on Carly’s arm. “Let me go with the boy instead.”

  Carly thanked them both, but insisted, “Now neither of you are going up there in this storm. I won’t have it. It’s not safe!”

  “It will be safe. The storm has eased,” the Water Witch calmly assured her.

  Carly threw up her hands. “Fine. If you really want to go, then go! Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  Marco kicked Marbles’ leg under the table and pleaded with her silently for help.

  He wasn’t looking forward to being alone with the creepy old Water Witch. So many strange things about him. His obsession with weather, that divining rod, and those eerie blue eyes.

  “Are you sure they both need to go?” Old Lady Marbles asked. “Together they may be too much for that fragile angel.”

  She winked slyly at Marco and continued her attempt to persuade Carly. “Just send the boy. She’ll trust him. They’re practically the same age.”

  Carly rubbed her temples and sighed.

  “Well,” she muttered, “she doesn’t listen to me anyhow. Maybe she’ll listen to him.”

  She turned to the Water Witch. “Thank you for offering. But maybe it’s better if Marco goes alone.”

  “Go on then, Marco. Bring her back. But don’t forget—the lightning rod up there works. It’s been struck plenty.”

  “Don’t stay up there long,” Mrs. Cookie?Montebello added. “Just get her and come right down.”

  Marco stood up from the big table and stretched. “Wish me luck!”

  He followed the sound of Olivia’s strange singing to the old stone spiral staircase.

  On the second floor, he found the entrance to the steep bell tower stairs and followed them all the way to the top. They led to the base of a skinny wooden ladder nailed to the wall. Like everything else, it was old, rickety, and didn’t look too safe, but it did the job.

  He was getting close. Olivia’s strange singing was echoing louder now. It was horrible, possibly the worst he’d ever heard, and deeply irritating.

  Why can’t she just be normal?

  He took hold of the rain?soaked wooden ladder, wiggled it to make sure it was secure, then cautiously climbed up. The slippery wood creaked in a squeaky duet with Olivia’s song.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  The weather reminded him—weirdly—of his dream last night. Standing in the center of the King Clone during a raging thunderstorm. The memory hit him in a flash, sharp and unwelcome. The air even had the same aroma of wet, earthy creosote.

  Warm, wet mist hit his face when he poked his head through the hatch.

  The monsoon was easing up, just as the Water Witch had foretold. A bright sunbeam poured across the tower rooftop, casting a colorful rainbow that shimmered through the puddles on its wet, cracked cobblestone floor.

  In the center, a large golden bell hung from a heavy iron chain. It made a quiet, faintly soothing bong…

  Olivia sat calmly, almost regal, on the edge of the wall, gazing toward the mountains.

  The view stretched wide, filled with wind?torn clouds of gray and violet.

  She began singing her sad song again, seemingly unaware that Marco was climbing up through the open hatch behind her. Hearing her wail in full force made his teeth clench. His right eye twitched involuntarily. It was perfectly awful.

  Marco hesitated, stunned by the rainbow puddles and beams of sunlight cutting through the haze, before announcing himself. “Uh, hi!” he said, waving to Olivia. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, but… I just wanted to apologize for Lemon.”

  Olivia stared back at him from her perch on the wall. She was still wearing her old kitchen apron, and long lines of tears were streaming down her face. It reminded him of the water leaks running down the walls in the dusty castle entrance hall.

  He stepped forward, then paused. Her sullen gaze made him forget what he was about to say.

  Flustered, he asked, “So… you like rain?”

  Olivia sighed.

  The wind hit him with a slap of warm mist, and for some reason that felt like judgment.

  He winced. “I mean… you have a really pretty singing voice.”

  Olivia put her hand up to cover her mouth, like before.

  Curious, Marco asked, “Why do you do that?”

  Then, softer, he shook his head and said, “You don’t have to.”

  “We should probably get down from here,” he suggested. “Your grandma says it’s too dangerous.”

  Olivia shuddered, shook her head, and moved away from him, climbing further out along the viewing deck’s wall.

  The beautiful beam of sunlight slipped behind the clouds, and the rainbow cast across the cobblestone floor faded away into shadows.

  Marco watched the light vanish. Thunder rolled in the distance. He reached out his hand and pleaded, “Please, Olivia, come back here. You don’t have to go downstairs, but don’t stand out there on the ledge like that—it’s dangerous!”

  His heart pounded. The air reeked of ozone. Then came déjà vu. He recalled his dream. The moment when the roaring saber?toothed tiger leaped at him and he just lay there on the ground, ready to die. He remembered the promise he had made to himself: that he would fight and never give up.

  Olivia looked down at the rocky ground far below the tower, then back at Marco. After a moment, she drew a shaky breath, nodded, and reached out for help.

  Just then, a huge flash of lightning exploded against the tower’s rod, sending electricity crackling around the bell and racing across the slick, wet stone deck. The immediate clap of thunder shook the entire castle like an earthquake. The bell rang over and over again.

  Bing?Bong! Bing?Bong! Bing?Bong!

  The sudden thunderous shaking jolted Olivia off balance.

  Her foot slipped from the ledge.

  She screamed, “Help!”

  Marco lunged and caught her outstretched hand, pulling her to safety just in time.

  “Come on! Let’s get out of here!” he shouted over the loud ringing of the bell.

  The humid air smelled of hot, wet stone and scorched metal. Marco led Olivia to the hatch on the floor. She was tougher than he had expected and moved swiftly. They climbed down the ladder, then descended the steep tower stairs. Another clap of thunder rumbled, and he could feel the charge in the air.

  At the bottom, Carly and the others were already gathered, rushing toward them as Marco and Olivia came down the stairwell. Overwhelmed, Olivia just stood there with her hand over her mouth, crying.

  “Olivia! Marco! Thank my lucky stars you’re both okay!” cried Carly. She pulled her granddaughter into a hug, then scolded gently, “I told you never to go up there during a storm!”

  The bell still rang faintly behind them. Marco started to speak, but Olivia grabbed his wrist. Her grip was firm, urgent. Without a word, she pulled him away from the group and dragged him down the hallway to her bedroom. Opening the door, she pushed him inside and locked it.

  Oh my god… She locked the door. Is this how I’m going to die?