Sparky's Arc

Chapter 8 of 10

With the sky clear and the cradle still humming, Sparky turned to the field. More guests were drifting in, but the path to the pavilion looked plain and unmarked. He needed a true welcome. He lit his vest until it glowed soft gold and stepped to the front of the grounds, waving the new arrivals forward through the grass. A low rumble shook the clouds above. One last storm had slipped through, crackling and stubborn. Sparky whistled, and a sleepy owl floated down to perch on a curved crescent moon set high on a pole. The owl sang a slow lullaby. Sparky lifted a soft marshmallow cloud into the sky to cushion the thunder. The storm yawned. Its lightning dimmed to a pink flicker. Sparky guided the drowsy swirl into a waiting crystal dome and sealed the door. Inside, the storm curled like a kitten, flashing gentle sparks behind the glass. Sparky pushed open the tall iron gates at the edge of the field. Melody Starling raised her microphone. The festival's true welcome had begun.