Once Upon a Dream Read Online Free Page B

to
see.
Either what the world was like out there now, how it was changing or healing…or what it had been like before, back when there were animals and people and the books all worked properly. It was getting hard to remember, another effect of the evil, changed land.
    She wished…
    …and a book fell on her head.

PRINCESS AURORA SAT UP, surprised by the sudden cascade of parchment pages that fell to the floor. Not a book…a deck of cards. Brightly colored, intricately painted cards whose pictures were all still intact.
    She picked them up with just the tips of her very careful fingers, as if at her touch they would disappear back into her imagination.
    The first few were familiar. They were the kind used for games that people in the castle often played to pass their long hours of confinement. A three of swords, a nine of cups, a two of hearts, all in the bright and simple heraldic colors of the kingdom. An eight of chairs. A thirteen of dolls. A zero of castles.
    The numbers were elegant, elongated, and golden, just like the ones she drew in the air when math was easy.
    A strange ache throbbed where she had been hit in the head by the cards. What golden numbers? When was math easy? That never happened, except perhaps in a dream….
    She shook herself and flipped to the next card.
    A
joker.
    Aurora frowned at this one. The figure sported the usual impish grin of his kind—but his motley seemed ragged. His face was long and narrow, and instead of a scepter or wand he carried a lute. He looked, all things considered, a trifle too much like the minstrel.
    And after
him
came even stranger cards of equally bizarre suits.
    A one of suns: a shining yellow ball, golden rays streaking out sharply to the edges of the card. Aurora held it close to her face, wondering at the detail. She wished the artist had left some room for a hint of the blue sky she couldn’t remember anymore. The sun seemed so joyous at its own energy that its eyes were simple curves, squinted shut, its mouth almost nonexistent.
    Did the real sun actually have a face?
    Aurora wasn’t sure. She couldn’t remember.
    In the picture below it, a naked child happily rode a pony over hills so green she was tempted to pick at the paint with her fingernail. His mount was dappled white and black and had a horn and a beard. None of the remaining horses in the castle looked anything like it.
    The next card was of a girl who looked, at first glance, like Aurora herself, arms wrapped lovingly around the neck of a lion. The lion was tawny and orange and red, and the girl’s golden hair was so thick and manelike she could have been a version of the sun itself. Aurora knew lions because they were carved into decorations around the castle and inscribed upon heraldic shields.
    On the card after that, a girl—who also looked like her—was touching a different beast on the nose. Aurora had no idea what animal it was. Tiny like a squirrel, but with overlong, soft ears that were as ridiculous as the horn on the pony. Its pink nose sprouted long whiskers that were so carefully painted Aurora felt her heart break. She wished she could touch such a creature, like the girl in the picture.
    And finally, there was an animal by itself in an open green patch surrounded by trees. It looked a bit like a horse but for its shorter body and more slender legs. It had no mane, and its tail was short and fat. Its head was turned backward, cocked, as if listening for danger.
    Aurora looked around quickly, suddenly nervous. No book in the castle had
all
of its pictures, and even the tapestries were blurry. It seemed like this strange deck was complete. Why these? Why now?
    “Princess? Your Highness?” a voice called from outside her door.
    Aurora quickly swept the cards into an ungainly pile and, looking around for someplace to stash them, shoved them into the pretty little velvet bag set out to go with her gown that night.
    Without waiting for an answer, the owner of the voice swept in: tiny,