It’s a sword. I know it; it’s a sword and it’s sticking out of my face, six, seven feet past the hilt. It’s fucking Excalibur, I’m not talking Needle or Sting or a damn kitchen knife, it’s Excalibur half-impaled in the stone of my sinuses. Think maybe someone’s tugging on it, some idiot would-be king, ‘cause there’s this noise, slow and syrupy bouncing around in my head. It’s distant, coming from next to me, but hell, that might as well be a couple miles with that thump thump thump of my head between whatever’s making the noise and me. Sounds vaguely like a person, maybe someone’s talking to me. Sluggishly, I consider turning to look, but I don’t want to hit them with the sword, that’d be impolite. The voice pauses for a moment, and I almost rejoice, but then, there it is again. Sounds kind of irritated, questioning, and it’s starting to get louder. I’m really considering turning my head, maybe pointing my face down at the ground so I don’t hit anybody, damn sword is a public safety hazard, and… a hand touches down on the surface of my shoulder, bared thanks to the lavender nightgown I’m wearing, and startled, my eyes snap all the way open. I turn, and Mom’s standing there, next to the stool I’m perching on, and her expression is a little more than annoyed. “Earth to Aurora! Are you listening?” she asks, and her tone is exasperated.

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  “Um,” I mumble. “what?”