Rube ended up making a few false starts and doubling back on herself, but after an hour or two, they started to see strange silver and purple lights on the horizon, and Jeanette had a hunch that they’d found what they were looking for.

As they got closer, the lights came into focus- tall, glassy buildings in a kind of pointed rectangle shape (like corncobs, Jeanette thought), with smaller versions of themselves clustered around them, spreading out all over the side of the nearest mountain.  And then there was the music.  You’d have thought that you’d either hear one tune over everything else or a weird cacophony of instruments, but instead it all seemed to harmonise, as if the whole city was playing together.

As they approached, the sky became a little darker- nowhere near sunset, but definitely the afternoon turning into evening- and one by one, glowing shapes began to appear.  Neon lights, if the people of Opal Hill had neon.  A pink palm tree here, a green pineapple there.  Probably dozens more over the next few hours.  And in the distance, behind the buildings on the mountain, was a calm, green sea that definitely hadn’t been there a moment ago.

Opal Hill.  Soon they’d be there.

(To be continued)