Despite the fact that the three of them were watching me, I squinted.

I inched my feet towards the edge and some of the looser rocks fell away from the cliff face, shattering onto the boulders below. That was a decent enough reason to shut my eyes. I kept them closed, not because I wanted to shut out the fear, but because I wanted to pay attention to its source. My feet were sending signals to my legs, telling them that standing on the edge of the cliff was a terrible idea. My stomach was sending similar signals to my brain and my arms refused to unhinge themselves from being wrapped around my stomach. It was obvious that my body was against the act of jumping into Stanton River. For these reasons, I started thinking about how I had found myself in this situation.

The four of us had drawn straws to decide the order for the leap into the river and I was the third to jump. Michael was first. His father regularly brought him down to this area of Greenvale, so it wasn’t too surprising that, within seconds of Charlie plucking the final stick out of Billy’s hands, Michael had pulled his white T-shirt over his head, thrown it on the ground and run towards the cliff’s edge. Without the slightest hesitation, he leapt, and we could feel the silence as he drifted through the air, his arms moving in tiny circles to help him maintain his posture. He fell for long enough that the three of us had time to make our way to one of the boulders and see him land in the water with as much confidence as he had jumped. The split second before he reappeared lasted an eternity, but the reward of seeing his grinning face break the surface of the water was worth it. He’d set a benchmark that the rest of us were going to find difficult to reach.

If anyone could reach it, however, it was Billy Coates. He was notorious for discovering the daring activity in an otherwise calm environment and he had a reputation for never backing down from a challenge. Charlie and I were still congratulating Michael through a series of war cries that echoed from one bank to the other as Billy cracked his knuckles and headed to the edge of the cliff. Charlie walked over to one of the boulders to help Michael climb his way back up the cliff face. Billy was looking down into the water without smiling while strands of his hair started flicking backwards and forwards in the breeze. He was scared. I’d never seen Billy be concerned about anything before, so I instantly started to feel my own fear building. I almost felt privileged to be one of the only people to see Billy Coates consider his actions so thoughtfully. By the time Michael joined us at the top, Billy was preparing for his run-up. He found his way to the edge in three giant steps and launched himself out from the cliff face. Just to show off, Billy completed a mid-air spin as he fell towards the water and, after landing safely, he resurfaced, laughing and mocking the next jumper.

There was no way I was going to run up like the other boys, so I stood close enough to the edge that my toes could still feel the ground and squinted. I only opened my eyes because Michael was mocking me, saying he was going to tell Amy Sandal that I was too chicken to jump. I responded that I had a much bigger chance of jumping off this cliff than he did talking to someone like her. He had a point, though. I didn’t want to jump. And, as I looked down into the water, a part of me thought that maybe Amy thinking I was chicken was the lesser of two evils. My heart jumped up into my throat when I saw a shadow move under the water. The water was crystal clear, so there was no doubt in my mind that something was there. It reminded me of a whale. A whale with wings instead of fins. I looked over at Billy, silently asking him if he had seen the same thing. He grinned knowingly and told me to stop being such a chicken.

I looked back down into the water and whatever was there was gone. I shrugged it off as clouds moving overhead, casting a shadow on the surface of the water. I was exhausted from being so scared anyway. I took a deep breath, bent my knees and set myself free from the constraints of the cliff.

Rocks cannot leap. They can fall.

One moment, they are spinning through the air, so light and unbound, descending for long enough to show you every shade of their mesmerising surfaces. And the next, they shatter with the most heinous of sounds, the force of the boulders below splitting them apart, separating them into smaller pieces. Fragments, they call them. Some fragments hit the jagged walls of the cliffs in a chorus of miniature thuds while other fragments are flung out and over the water, landing with the dance of one thousand splashes. Then, they sink. The darkness of the water enveloping them and sucking them under forever.

My heart. My heart is a rock.

Lucas Hervey. That’s who was responsible for Haley’s anger. How could he think that it would be funny to place two fingers behind Haley’s grandmother’s head as someone was taking a photo while the two of them painted? Frustrated, Haley moved out of her bed and onto the floor. Since her room was dark, she had to use her fingers to find the hiding place for the photo album, placing it down gently before moving back into her bed. Some of the guests honked their car horns as they were leaving Haley’s house and, once they had all left, Haley listened to the sounds of her parents tidying up the living area for a few moments before she drifted off into a deep sleep.

The crack in the window grabbed Haley’s attention the moment she stepped out of bed. She stood on her carpeted floor, wondering how it could have happened. Her mother knocked, and Haley glanced over her shoulder to smile at her when the door opened. Haley’s mother smiled back, but her smile disappeared when she looked up at the window above Haley’s bed. She walked over, stood behind Haley and placed her hands on her daughter’s shoulders. The two of them took a moment to silently observe the crack. Haley’s mother kept her hands on her daughter’s shoulders as she knelt down next to her. She whispered something into Haley’s ear. Haley nodded, took her bag down from the shelf and got as ready for her day at kindergarten as she could.

Three of the teachers at Haley’s kindergarten made a fuss over the necklace before Haley even had a chance to put her bag away on the shelf in the main room. She hugged her mother goodbye before walking outside. She was pleased to see her best friend, Samantha Cronin, waiting on the wooden seats underneath the large oak tree. Samantha and Haley spoke at length about the necklace before Haley told her what she had seen in her photo album. Samantha pointed towards the sandpit, and Haley nearly scowled when she saw Lucas Hervey enjoying himself playing dragons and princesses with three other children. Haley felt the anger rise again. The two girls watched Lucas as he ran towards some of the other students with a pretend sword he had made using a thick twig. Haley imagined Lucas running slower so that the dragons would have more time to run away. To Haley’s surprise, Lucas started slowing down, moving in slow motion through the air and unable to catch the dragons. Some of the other kindergarten students noticed what was happening as well and gathered around Lucas to watch him running in the most peculiar way. Haley decided to try another experiment, this time involving sand. Lots of sand.

All of the students watched as a giant pillar of sand swirled above Lucas’s head while he was still hovering in slow motion. Then, once Haley gave a nod, the entire pillar landed right on top of him, covering his feet in sand. Lucas looked angrier than he did shocked, but he certainly did not look like he was in control. Haley took some pride in being able to control Lucas like a puppet for what he had done, so the girls spent the next several minutes toying with Lucas: sending him down the slides backwards, encouraging him to juggle things that were impossible to juggle and, perhaps most fun of all, making him place two fingers behind his head to make himself look like a goofy bunny rabbit while the other students pointed at him and laughed. Haley was so caught up in seeking her playground revenge that Samantha had to place a hand on her shoulder to remind her to stop.

The kindergarten teachers didn’t let the students outside for a long time after all the commotion, so the students played with their toys or drew pictures. The rumours had started, however, and Haley knew that she would have to take greater care to prove to her mother that the necklace would only ever add to her newfound power.

The necklace made some of the guests feel as though the presents they had chosen for Haley’s fifth birthday were inadequate. Haley was sure to use her manners while opening her presents before dinner, but, from the moment she picked up the wooden box with the necklace inside, it was obvious that this present was particularly special. She ran her fingers over the edge of the envelope before taking out the card, being careful to keep the envelope intact. She asked her mother to read the beautifully handwritten message on the inside: To my dearest Haley, you are as lovely as a soft summer breeze and as radiant as the sunshine on a cloudy day. I hope this necklace will only add to your power. With love, Grandma. Haley closed her eyes as she felt her body become covered in goosebumps and a lump form in her throat. She opened them when her mother finished putting the necklace on and smiled nervously as everyone commented on how magnificent it made her look.

Two factors were behind Haley feeling courageous enough to ask her parents if she could be excused from her own party. Firstly, she felt ill at the thought of eating the pizza she vaguely remembered mentioning when her parents had asked her what she might like for her birthday dinner. Then there was the fact that the necklace was taking far too long to stop being the topic of conversation. Having braved her way through the third conversation about what the necklace meant to her, all Haley could think about was seeking refuge in the shelter of her bedroom. After a lengthy discussion, her parents agreed. She thanked each of her guests for coming and for their thoughtful presents, and, after collecting her presents and excusing herself to her bedroom, she turned off the lights and snuggled up in the warmth of her freshly washed sheets.

The sound of music and laughter echoed down the hallway as Haley lay in the darkness, fiddling with the necklace, thinking of all of the pleasant times she and her grandmother had shared together. Restless, Haley hopped out of bed, turned on her reading lamp and took out the photo album she kept under her bed. For the next several minutes, Haley lay on her stomach, smiling as she looked through the photo album. Towards the end of the album, Haley came across one of her favourite pictures. It showed her painting a picture using an easel on her first day of kindergarten.

Haley thought she had noticed everything there was to notice about the photo, from every brushstroke to every wrinkle on the back of her grandmother’s delicate hands, but her smile faded when, tonight, she noticed something in the background that she had never seen before. Her anger bubbled higher inside her the more she took note of what was in the photo. She sat up and stared at the light bulb in her lamp, its dark-orange glow mimicking how Haley was feeling on the inside. With every intention of putting the photo album away, Haley slammed it shut and, just as she did, the light bulb shattered and the window next to her bed began to crack.

The forest drew me in but it was The Cave Dweller who kept me here.

The few villagers who walked by on their way to trade spices with the foreigners commented on how foolish I was for wanting to build on the rocky ground next to the cave, but I was not building it to impress them, nor was I building it for protection or safety. The Cave Dweller took care of that for me now. He has developed a great deal of respect for me. The type of respect reserved for the determination of an enemy.

The village could no longer cater to my hopes and desires. The narrow-mindedness and simplemindedness of its people repulsed me more each day. On a dreary July day, I blew out the last of the candles lighting my abode, gathered my supplies in my barrow and made my way into the forest. Peace and comfort washed over me like a soft blanket covering a small child. I battled through my exhaustion, travelling for two days up hills and across rivers before discovering the perfect spot to build my new home. The forest opened up to a clearing in front of a cave, and the ground still felt damp from the recent rains. There was more than enough room for me to build my new home here, though that was true of the half-dozen places I had stopped at up until today. The difference here was the view of the forest.

Looking out over the edge of the rocky clearing was akin to staring into a world gone topsy-turvy. Here, the clouds floated below the treetops as if being pushed down by an enormous layer of invisible glass, the crisp air carrying fewer sounds than it did back in the village. I wiped my brow and set myself to work. This is where I would build and this is where I would live. That was when I heard the Cave Dweller’s terrifying growl for the first time. Just like waking up from a nightmare, I convinced myself that the grumbling was something I didn’t need to concern myself with and set to work, laying out the wood that would form the foundation of the home I never thought I would own.

I spent the next eighteen days building the house; sawing, lifting, tying, concentrating and humming. Every day I was closer to achieving my dream. The wooden cabin was all I would ever need, and I was filled with pride as I stood back admiring my own masterpiece.

My grin turned serious when I heard the grumbling once again, and I tightened the grip on my staff while staring into the cave. The growl continued longer this time, long enough for me to understand that it was not the wind making that sound. I considered for a moment taking shelter in my home, but that felt far too cowardly. So, instead, I moved to the front of the cabin, pushed my staff into the ground and waited for whatever monster lay in that cave to accept my challenge.

Prompted by my defiance, the noise increased in volume until I had to cover my ears. I squinted my eyes and lowered my head. I could see the silhouette of the rocks as they flew past my head, destroying the roof of my house. I remained calm and held my ground. Seeing the enormous black hand of the creature in the cave grip onto its walls was enough for me to tightly close my eyes. I can tell you that I was filled with fear over the course of the next minute. The Cave Dweller wrapped himself around me, growling as loudly as he could. When I thought it was over, I opened my eyes, turned around and started to weep. Pieces of wood and logs I had chopped were strewn across the open forest. The Cave Dweller had destroyed my home, but he was about to learn that he had not destroyed my resolve.

Since then, I have built and rebuilt the house more times than I care to consider. I have braved wind and rain without shelter or rest, just to show the Cave Dweller, and myself, that I am in control. He protects me from death while challenging me to live.

And for that, I respect him immensely.

Early one Tuesday morning, perched on the small wooden bar of her cage in J&J’s Pet Store, a canary named Lila was rocking backwards and forwards while having a spectacular dream. While in the deepest part of her sleep, the fluorescent lights lining the roof of the store came on, waking her up and putting her in a less-than-good mood. The one responsible for both turning on the lights and, consequently, Lila’s mood was long-time pet-shop employee Benjamin Hartley.

For the past five years, Benjamin had dedicated his working life to the pet store, never missing a day of work, greeting every customer with memorable enthusiasm and, every morning, making sure that the animals in the store were fed. For these reasons, Benjamin was confident he was about to be promoted by the owners to a role he had only ever dreamed about: manager. After feeding some biscuits and meat to the three kittens and some crickets to the five hermit crabs, Benjamin collected two small containers and made his way over to Lila’s cage.

Lila tilted her head as Benjamin placed the container labelled FOOD in his mouth. Being a canary, all she could do was stare as Benjamin continued to wage an aggressive attack on the thin metal bars of her cage until they succumbed to his constant and forceful wiggling. She almost took pity on Benjamin as he fumbled around, trying to keep hold of both containers while her cage door was wide open. Despite her feelings, Lila took this opportunity to fly straight out of her cage and into the freedom of J&J’s Pet Store.

Benjamin was forced to arch his back to keep his eyes on Lila as she zoomed past overhead. He dropped the containers, barely noticing the water spilling on his feet in the process. Lila flew directly over to the kittens’ home, landing with a flutter on its roof. Benjamin struggled to remain calm, but, as it was early, the front doors of the store were not yet unlocked, so there was no need to completely panic. Attempting to catch the bird off guard, Benjamin dashed towards the kittens’ cage, accidentally knocking over some of the towers made out of boxes of cat food along the way. Lila deliberately waited for Benjamin to get close before mocking his attempts to catch her and flying away at the last second. She was now perched on the cash register at the front of the store. Benjamin was glaring at the bird from across the aisles when, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the owners, Jill and James Mahoney, getting their keys out to unlock the front door.

Benjamin tried to warn the owners by calling out while running towards the doors, but, this time, Lila didn’t wait for Benjamin to be close to her. Sensing the breeze from outside, she pushed herself off the register and, in a flutter of spins and wing flaps, escaped J&J’s Pet Store. Jill and James’s jaws dropped as they looked around their store, thinking about how much work they were all going to have to do to get it ready for the day. They shook their heads as Benjamin skulked towards them. Because he was such a loyal employee, however, Jill and James found it difficult to be mad at Benjamin for any serious length of time and gave him a long, reassuring hug.

“Don’t worry, Mister!” James said as he ruffled Benjamin’s orange coat and placed him back inside of his favourite cage. “We’ll still make you manager one day.”

The box in the window was empty. PM explained that it was a reproduction of an illusion his family had sold many years earlier. I knew exactly where the original had ended up.

I repurposed a hand-carved wooden box that I found in the attic to house the cloak, keeping it amongst my shoes at the bottom of my cupboard. I would sometimes catch glimpses of my friends staring at the box, part of them aching to find out what was inside. My grandfather gave me the cloak for my seventh birthday, claiming to have bought it from a store with his own money when he was just a boy. He had wrapped it up in dark-black wrapping paper and decorated it with a bright-red ribbon. Instead of a birthday card, there were three handwritten cards in an envelope addressed, To My Dearest Grandson, Dan. Each card outlined a law to be obeyed when using the cloak.

Law #1 – The moment you tell another about the cloak, it will cease to work.

Law #2 – The cloak will not tolerate foul play. You will know when it is time to use the cloak because it will tell you.

Law #3 – Wearing the cloak for longer than intended will result in your permanent disappearance.

So far, there had only been two instances where it was necessary to use the cloak. The first was at my big brother Isaac’s ninth birthday party. Four of his school friends attended the party, and an uneasy feeling stuck with me throughout the afternoon right up until the sun went down, when my breathing became so erratic that my mother suggested I should go and lie down in my bedroom. As I lay in the darkness of my bedroom, I could see a glow coming from the bottom of my cupboard where the cloak was hidden. I tiptoed over to my cupboard, turning on the light using the switch inside the door. Kneeling down, I opened the wooden box and picked up the cloak. The feeling of warmth that moved over me as I slid one of my hands through its sleeves told me that everything was working according to plan. Feeling significantly calmer, I wore the cloak downstairs where the dark of night had influenced the behaviour of the party guests, with one of the boys suggesting that they throw toilet paper across the roof of the house. Though I wasn’t able to prevent them from throwing the toilet paper on the roof, I was able to counter the lies Isaac told our mother and father later that night, letting them know, to everyone’s surprise, that I had seen him and his friends do it with my own eyes.

The second instance nearly resulted in my permanent disappearance. We were going to visit my grandfather at his new house. I had overheard that he was ill, so I thought I would take the cloak to show him how well I had taken care of it. The drive took significantly longer than it used to and, as we slowed down to enter the driveway of what looked to be a block of apartments, my breathing started to get shallower and the box on my lap began to glow. I couldn’t hear the cloak calling me this time, nor could I use it anyway, given that my parents and brother weren’t allowed to know about it. By the time we walked up the stairs to my grandfather’s new room, my breathing was so short that my mother insisted I lie down on one of the nearby beds. We were told by a man in a suit that we weren’t able to see my grandfather, and it was then that I heard the cloak calling me.

Calm and invisible, I stood beside my grandfather’s bed. The way his chest rose and fell with each breath was so hypnotic that I lost track of time. I ignored calls from the cloak that my time was over, and it started to feel uncomfortable. I didn’t want to take it off as the men in the suits standing outside would see me and ask me to leave, so I pushed the feelings of discomfort aside and remained in the cloak longer than intended. I felt faint, and the next thing I remembered was being woken up by my mother and father. I could only assume my grandfather had removed the cloak before calling them in. Careful not to mention the cloak, I questioned them about the whereabouts of the box and they told me that my grandfather had woken up and asked to keep it with him for a little while. At least until we saw him again. I’m not sure when that will be, but, for now, I think we could both agree that it’s best he takes control over the power of the cloak of invisibility. I just hope he doesn’t wear it for too long and accidentally end up disappearing forever.

Every Saturday, before we completed the family grocery shopping, my mother and father would take me to the store. I could feel it working its magic well before we entered. The owner chose to build the store between the town’s bank and council office; two older buildings that I’m sure resembled a time when Robert Greenvale had first discovered the city. The darkly painted concrete walls and the tall, glass windows crowded with numerous costumes and illusions made the store appear out of place. The enormous sign attached to the awning of the storefront had a pitch-black background with a red border that housed the words PM’s Emporium of Illusions written in a soothing white shade.

On the day the emporium opened, I stood in the street, watching in awe as PM himself addressed the townspeople from the store’s wooden veranda dressed in a shiny, red and black outfit complete with top hat and large, black boots. He delivered a captivating speech about the power of illusion before officially opening the store by using an oversized pair of scissors to cut a thick, red ribbon tied to each of the posts holding up the storefront’s awning.

Nothing came close to the sense of wonder and excitement I felt looking through PM’s Emporium of Illusions for the first time. Once a week, PM changed the items on display in the window, showcasing any new arrivals with handwritten notes placed beside each item, highlighting the advancements made in the world of illusions. Before entering the store, we would invest some time discussing what had changed and what our first impressions were on any of the new illusions for sale. Although my mother and father were less easily impressed by the illusions than I was, there were always rich discussions about the potential of each of the newer items. Today, however, I was speechless.

Three new illusions had been added since we were here last Saturday. Two of them were unimaginative variations on classic illusions: one involving disappearing cards, the other an almost carbon copy of pulling a rabbit out of a hat, except this time it involved pulling a frog out of a cardboard pond. Carefully positioned between each of those was an illusion I never dreamed could exist. I tugged at my mother’s dress, pointing at the window in disbelief. The illusion was in a black box with green trimmings and, in beautiful cursive writing across the front, were the words, Cloak of Invisibility. Without hesitation, my mother and father nodded at one another and the three of us entered the store.

Flick perched herself on the street lamp, her curious eyes scanning for signs of life from her unique perspective. The grey clouds smothered the sky and occasionally rolled over the peaks of the skyscrapers, their waves reforming into a single mass as they continued their journey from one side of the horizon to the other. Flick ignored the movements inside the buildings, instead narrowing her attention on the maze of streets and walkways below. Her patience was rewarded when she spotted the familiar movements of Perry the Pigeon weaving his way around the buildings, his confidence filling Flick with contempt. She regained a quiet sense of pride after predicting Perry’s flight path as he dodged and dove his way through the alleyways, eventually coming to rest near the pond in Eastern Park. Flick stretched her wings and stared out over the ocean of grey clouds before pushing herself from the street lamp, gliding out over her city to seek revenge.

The day before, Flick took her well-deserved space on the edge of the beige walls of Building Nine, famous for its advantageous views of Rat Alley. The rats lived in such vast numbers that they found pleasure in climbing over each other in front of the narrow holes marking the entrances to their homes, mocking the predators watching and waiting for the opportune moment to strike. If an attack was detected, the power in the rats’ numbers flexed its muscles and they scurried in all directions, baffling the hunter by squeezing their bodies into impossibly small nooks. As one of the wisest city falcons, Flick earned her spot on Building Nine and had sent a well-heard message to those who, even if only for a moment, attempted to adopt her dedicated space as their own. Adhering to this hierarchy promoted peace in the city. One animal who disregarded the hierarchy with a level of obnoxiousness rarely seen in the city was the pigeon. On this day, the unlucky pigeon who robbed Flick of her meal by stealing a baby rat that had strayed from the pack was Perry. The most sinister part of Flick’s plan was letting Perry think for the past twenty-four hours that he had got away with the theft.

The warning spread amongst the flock as Flick landed with enviable precision on the tallest rock in Eastern Park. As proud guardians of their territory, however, the pigeons stood their ground, refusing to fly away. Flick showed no sign of intimidation, locking her eyes directly onto Perry’s. Perry was the first to break eye contact, scanning the faces of his friends and family for clues as to what his next move should be. Deciding to draw on his stronger abilities, Perry pushed up off the ground and leapt up into the air, gaining impressive momentum as he flapped his wings and dashed into the city. Flick followed, manoeuvring her body with pinpoint accuracy to stay close behind Perry, but she was nowhere near as close as she wanted to be. She refused to believe that she had underestimated Perry, utilising every one of her hunting skills to not lose him to the sharp corners and wide buildings. The tension in the clouds gave way, the heavy rain hindering her chances at catching up to the deceitful pigeon. Flick let out a tremendous squawk that echoed between the buildings as she faced the rain and flew above the roofs of the city.

Driven by anger and no longer suffering the suffocation of the city, Flick flew through the sky with as much ease as ever. Through the rain, Flick spotted Perry sitting on top of her lamppost. He flew away before she could get any closer, but Flick saw no reason to follow him, because he had left a gift in his wake. Sitting back at her unique position overlooking the city, she wrapped her wings around the tiny rat. For today, the hierarchy of the city will be maintained.