by Obert Skye
“Let’s pick up the pace,” the wizard said with urgency. “We don’t have much time.”
“Time for what?” Clark asked.
“The boy’s hungry!” Rin answered.
Clark squawked and the center section of plastic on his left wing dropped off and fell to the ground.
When they arrived home, the wizard, the wizard-in-training, and the half-dragon/half-raven snuck behind the house beneath the cover of long grass and trees. Then, crawling on their stomachs, they worked their way to the back door.
Once inside the house, they crouched in a spot where they could see through the kitchen windows and out of the large window in the living room at the same time. There was still a cop car parked by the fountain, and just like the previous night, Sheriff Wills was currently pulling up to the house and getting out.
“Get on the couch,” Rin told Ozzy. “Quick!”
“But . . .”
“Language,” Clark squawked.
Ozzy laid down on the couch.
“Get under the blanket,” Rin insisted. “Pretend you’re sleeping.”
Ozzy pulled up the blanket and placed his head on the couch pillows just as Sheriff Wills knocked on the front door. Rin and Clark slipped into the kitchen to hide.
The sheriff rang the doorbell.
“Do I answer it?” Ozzy whispered.
“Of course,” Clark whispered back. “It would be rude not to.”
Ozzy got up off the couch, wondering why he had needed to pretend to sleep when he was going to answer the door anyway. He pulled open the door and there was the sheriff. His mustache wasn’t quite as neat as usual, and there were bags beneath his eyes. He looked at Ozzy in a strange and accusing way.
“What happened to you?” the sheriff asked.
“I was sleeping,” Ozzy said, trying to sound as if he had just woken up.
“Where?”
“On the couch.”
Ozzy had spent a day and night in a dark wet room in the forest. He had climbed and walked through dirt and rain. He had ripped his shirt and pants on a couple of branches, and he was still wearing his muddy shoes. The sheriff looked past him toward the couch. Thanks to the few seconds Ozzy had just spent laying on it, it too was covered in ash and mud.
“How did you get so dirty?” Wills asked.
The wizard-in-training looked down at himself.
“Oh, that,” he said. “I was trying to— I was out back trying to— I fell in something.”
“Really?” the sheriff said suspiciously. “Do you mind if I come in?”
“I actually need to take a shower.”
“I can see that, but I think it can wait.”
The sheriff worked his way in and took a seat on a white leather chair in front of the window and directly across the room from the dirty couch. Ozzy closed the front door and returned to the couch. He sat down, knowing that Patti was not going to be happy about where he had chosen to sleep and sit.
“Listen,” Sheriff Wills said. “The last place I saw black ash like the stuff on your clothes was at your cabin in the woods. But I’m not here to scold you about where you may or may not have been.”
“Thanks,” Ozzy said.
“I’m here because I need to tell you that Jon got away.”
Clark squawked in the kitchen.
“Sorry,” Ozzy said, “that’s just an alarm I had set.”
Sheriff Wills looked at his watch. “You had an alarm set for 11:13?”
“Yeah, I was going to call Sigi at eleven-fifteen, and I wanted two minutes to work on what I was going to say.”
Wills looked like he needed a long vacation or a different career.
“Did you hear what I said? Jon escaped.”
“How?”
“He assaulted one of my officers at the station and then hopped over the back fence. But there’s no need to worry; we’ll get him back.”
“So he can escape again?” Ozzy asked curiously.
“No,” Wills insisted. “He won’t get away twice.”
“But only if you catch him again.”
“We will.” Wills was frustrated. “I’ve talked with Patti and she’s aware of what happened. They’ll be coming back today.”
“I thought you said we had nothing to worry about.”
“I had a long discussion with Jon,” the sheriff said. “He told me a lot of things. And he insists he’s not working for Ray. But we can’t take chances. I need to make sure you stay right here until Patti and Sigi arrive. Then we can all have a long talk and get things in order.”
“What kind of long talk?”
Sheriff Wills stood up and put his hands behind his back. He looked out the front window at the cop cars and fountain.
“I’ve gathered a lot of new information,” he said with his back to Ozzy. “I’ve visited with your grandfather. I even know all about Clark.”
There was another squawk.
The sheriff turned around. “That alarm would drive me mad.”
“It’s just annoying enough to get my attention,” Ozzy said loudly.
“There are a lot of things you haven’t told me, Ozzy,” Wills went on. “I don’t know how you think I can protect and help if I don’t have the right information. Jon escaping is a problem, but he’s not the one I worry about. Ray won’t give up on this. He wants what you have.”
The sheriff glanced at Ozzy.
“Can I look at your finger?”
Ozzy thought about saying no, but he saw no reason to hold back now. He held his hand forth and let Wills take a good long look at his pointer finger.
“It’s from your parents,” Wills said quietly.
“Yeah,” Ozzy admitted.
“And you can make people do things because of it?”
“I . . . well, I don’t know exactly.”
“How do you feel now?”
“What?”
“How do you feel?” the sheriff asked again. “Are you in pain?”
Ozzy was shocked. “I’m not . . . don’t think . . .”
Sheriff Wills held up his palms to calm the boy.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “In all my years as a policeman, I’ve never had a situation like this. I like facts. I like reality. I don’t read fiction because it’s silly—pointless. One wizard kills one dragon and some troll captures a goblin.”
“I don’t know that book.”
“My point is that this situation is a doozy. I can see no clear answers or solutions. I’ve talked about this with some of my colleagues, but my explanations end up sounding as insane as Rin.”
This time Rin squawked.
Sheriff Wills winced. “It sounds like the batteries on your alarm are dying.”
“When will Sigi be home?” Ozzy asked.
“Late today. They’re catching a flight back to Eugene and then driving home.”
“So we’ll all talk then?”
Sheriff Wills looked at Ozzy as he sat covered with mud and ash on the dirty white couch.
“You need to stay put. Don’t leave this house.”
“I won’t,” Ozzy promised. “I’ll just go to my room above the garage and stay there until they arrive.”
The sheriff turned to leave, but stopped when an idea popped into his head.
“If you wanted, could you control me?”
“What?”
“Could you use your brain and that finger to make me do something I don’t want to do?”
Ozzy was scared to answer.
“Well?”
“I couldn’t,” Ozzy lied. “I’m not sure I can explain some of the things that have happened, but me controlling other people’s minds is just a misunderstanding.”
“You made an officer drive into the ocean.”
“That w
as him.”
Sheriff Wills shook his head.
“Stay put, Ozzy.”
“I will.”
Sheriff Wills left the house and drove off down the drive.
Rin and Clark came into the living room and joined Ozzy on the couch as he stared out the front window.
“He knows too much,” Clark whispered fiercely. “Maybe we should rubbish him out.”
The wizard and trainee stared at the bird.
“What?” tweeted Clark. “Isn’t that a thing? Like you rubbish someone?”
“No,” Rin said. “Unless you’re talking about the rubbish cycle in Quarfelt. But that just gives the city of Abra a lot of pride, and it helps with their recycling program.”
“We’re not rubbing anyone out,” Ozzy said. “And I have to say put.”
“Well,” the wizard said, “that’s not going to happen. Now wash up so we can get going.”
“I told him I won’t leave.”
“I once told Patti I was good at sudoku,” Rin said. “The point is sometimes we stretch the truth. You aren’t really going to leave; you’re just getting some fresh air. And I’m not horrible at sudoku—I just don’t understand any of the rules.”
“Is that the game where you throw around horse apparel?” Clark asked.
“No,” Rin said, “you’re thinking pigskins and that’s football. Now let’s get cleaned up and maybe make something to eat before we leave.”
“Where are we going to go?” Ozzy asked.
“We need to get away from all this . . . activity,” the wizard explained. “Cop cars parked in front, sheriffs with the door codes. I thought we’d go to my place.”
“Your place?” Ozzy asked with a sudden excitement. “We’re going to where you live? Like your home?”
“Don’t get too excited,” Clark complained. “He has dirt floors.”
“In the workshop,” Rin said defensively.
“I’ve always wondered what your house looks like.”
“Well, the way I see it,” said Rin, “is that you’re one shower, one change of clothes, and two egg sandwiches away from finding out.”
Ozzy needed no further motivation. He made his way to his room to wash up and get ready to finally see the home of a wizard.
After taking a shower, putting on his QWA-approved trousers, and rapidly eating three egg-and-bacon sandwiches, Ozzy helped himself to a bowl of cereal and six pancakes. Then he tried playing the record he’d found on the record player in the study.
Remarkably, it worked.
They let the music play while Rin quickly washed and dried his robe and trousers.
“My trousers are in the dryer,” the wizard informed Ozzy as a song about a mad world played. “What a lucky machine that dryer is. It’s going to be enchanted for months. I’ll have to tell Patti that she doesn’t need to worry about sorting.”
“Do you know this music?” Ozzy asked.
“It’s not birds singing,” Clark complained.
“Right—what about you, Rin?”
“Tears for Fears.”
“I like words that rhyme,” Clark admitted.
The album played on and filled the house with music until the dryer buzzed, alerting everyone that Rin’s trousers and robe were ready.
Ozzy took the record to his room, and then met Rin and the bird in the garage. It felt like a fitting place to make plans. Sheriff Wills obviously didn’t trust Ozzy to stay put. There was now a second police vehicle parked down on the beach behind the house.
“I can try to mess with their minds,” Ozzy said. “But Wills will know that I did.”
“Or,” Clark suggested, “we could take one of these cars and see if they’ll chase after us.”
There were three cars in the four-car garage, a Honda that Patti drove some days, a truck that she used to haul things when needed, and the white car that Ozzy and Clark were very familiar with. Patti had driven her Audi to the airport, so that space was open. There were also three motorcycles parked on the far side of the garage, including the one Ozzy used to ride to the Cloaked House before being banned from doing so.
“Both fine ideas,” Rin told them. “But I’m in the mood for magic.”
“Really?” Clark asked. “You’re actually going to do something?”
“No, but Ozzy is.”
Ozzy and Clark groaned.
“Like what?” the boy asked curiously.
“You didn’t get those trousers by accident,” Rin said solemnly.
“Rin,” Ozzy pleaded, “we need to get to your house.”
“Then make it happen,” he said. “You passed the Cinco-Wiz-Com, you are no longer an apprentice—you just haven’t kicked it into gear. I can help, but eventually it will be all up to you.”
“Okay,” Ozzy said, “how about you show me the magical way to slip out of here, and I’ll learn from that?”
“That’s not helping.”
The small canister glued to Clark’s side fell off and dropped onto the garage floor. It rolled under the truck.
“I don’t think this dragon thing is working out,” the bird admitted. “I can’t fly, and now I can’t rain down fire on my enemies.”
Clark jumped off Ozzy’s shoulder and ducked under the truck to get the canister.
“Don’t let him distract you,” Rin said kindly. “Think about what you need to do to move us from this spot to another spot on the globe. We are here now, but we could just as easily be somewhere else.”
Clark hit his head under the truck and chirped out a few choice words.
“What I’m thinking is that my head hurts,” Ozzy said. “And what you’re saying makes it hurt worse.”
The rushing sound of air raced out from beneath the truck.
“Uh oh,” Clark tweeted.
Clark’s tweet was immediately followed by flames shooting out from under the vehicle. The black bird shot out to beat the heat.
“I tried to reattach the canister,” Clark scream-splained. “I was just testing to see if it still worked!”
The fire reached up around the truck and began to increase in bulk and noise.
“Grab the fire extinguisher!” Rin yelled.
Ozzy pulled a fire extinguisher from the wall near him and threw it to Rin. The wizard pulled out the pin and pressed the trigger. Nothing but a small trickle of foam dripped out.
“Is that how it’s supposed to work?” Clark yelled.
“No!” Rin replied. “I just remembered that Patti might have asked me to get this charged.”
Flames leapt from the truck to the Honda.
“What’ll we do?” Ozzy asked.
“I’m not sure,” Rin admitted. “When I accidentally burned down the Cloaked House, I ran.”
There was yelling from outside the garage as one of the officers pounded on one of the large garage doors. He had noticed that smoke was spilling out of the garage vents and filling the air with a deeper gray than the surrounding clouds.
Ozzy picked Clark up and ran out the small door at the back of the garage. Rin followed closely behind.
“Run for the trees,” Rin yelled. “I’ve got to grab something. I’ll be right with you.”
“What about the fire?”
“Just run.”
Ozzy didn’t want to run away from the scene. He didn’t want to leave the garage while it was burning. There was space between the garage and the house, but he couldn’t be sure that the fire wouldn’t spread. Also, his room was above the cars and he had grown to like it.
“Run!” Rin yelled as the police vehicle on the beach raced in from the back of the house. “Go!”
Ozzy dashed to the trees and ran until he felt sufficiently hidden. He then stopped to wait for Rin. The fire wasn’t visible, but up above the trees he could see the smoke.
<
br /> Clark chirped sadly while sitting on Ozzy’s shoulder.
“It’ll be okay,” Ozzy said, reaching up to pat the top of the bird’s head.
“I didn’t get the canister.”
“That’s what you’re worried about?”
“It was round and metal.”
They could hear running and watched the trees. Rin appeared carrying the staff.
“You went back for that?” Ozzy asked with exasperation and disbelief.
“It’s irreplaceable.”
“Aren’t there photo albums in the house?”
“Who can say?”
Ozzy looked up at the smoke above the trees. “You burned down the Cloaked House and now Clark’s burned down Patti’s garage.”
“It was an accident,” Clark insisted. “I feel a great sense of loss.” Clark looked at both Ozzy and Rin. “Is that what I’m supposed to say?”
“It’s perfect,” Rin said. “And it’s only the garage. Who needs a four-car garage anyway? Now, we should run. My house is just a hop, skip, and a jump away.”
Rin led the way as the sound of sirens racing to the fire filled the moist Oregon air.
Rin’s house was much more than a hop, skip, and a jump away. It was more like a run, traverse, and leap away. It was past the far side of Otter Rock, well beyond the town limits. The journey was made even more taxing due to them having to stay hidden and out of sight. And their hiding was complicated by the fact that one of them was dressed like a wizard of sorts, and carrying a staff, and another was sporting red and gray plaid pants.
“You said it was close,” Clark complained from on top of Ozzy’s shoulder.
“You can try flying,” Ozzy pointed out.
“I can’t,” Clark argued. “My wings are messed up.”
“I can fix that, once we reach my home,” Rin said.
The hike went on for miles, through tall pine trees and rolling hills covered in lime green bushes and white rocks. Eventually, they came to a thin paved road overgrown with weeds growing up through the asphalt. A wooden gate stretched across the road, locked with a chain and padlock to keep cars from having access.
A sign on the gate read:
Very Private Property
