Later, gazing out her window in the middle of the night, Abby wondered why she was so taken with the strange tale of the canyon spirit. She wasn’t usually drawn into ghost stories. It was as though old Miss Ramos had set a spell on her. One thing she did know—she had to find out more about the secret canyon.
Abby twisted around at the sound of Mousy plopping onto the bed. She smiled, then turned back and raised her eyes to the Dream Catcher gently swaying above the open window, which framed the distant mountains, hills, and cliffs of north-central New Mexico. Abby watched for a moment as the Dream Catcher’s delicately woven threads and soft feathers fluttered like little fairies dancing to a silent tune.
But Abby’s smile quickly disappeared as she recalled the eerie tale of the canyon spirit. “Better do your job tonight,” she whispered. She gave the Dream Catcher a gentle twirl.
Abby turned off the light, slipped under the covers, and pushed gently on her cat. “Move over, you.”
Some hours before dawn, the Dream Catcher’s crystal began to swirl furiously within the woven spiderweb protecting it. The glass beads hanging from the brightly colored threads whipped wildly about. But even the ancient power of the Dream Catcher couldn’t stop the nightmare….
Abby nervously glances over her shoulder. Someone or something is out there, somewhere behind her. She can’t see it, but she senses a presence. The clear morning air has turned misty, as if a vapor from some great reservoir has been suddenly released. She steals another glance and realizes in horror that the mist is moving toward her. Her head screams: Faster, faster! She knows she can outrun it. Flying across the desert terrain, she kicks up dust that quickly fades into the stalking vapor. She stumbles, quickly jumps to her feet, feels the tendrils of mist creep up her ankle. She struggles, gets free—runs faster. Her muscles tremble, but she forces her legs to keep moving. She stops abruptly, arms flaying, to keep herself from tumbling over the ledge and into the fast-flowing river below. An avalanche of rocks tumbles over the rim. She takes a step back, hugs herself. She’s reached the end of her flight. She turns on shaking legs to meet … what? She doesn’t know. The mist moves in, and soon she feels the ice-cold hands of …
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