by Bill Allen
At the edge of the building he paused to peer around the corner. The first of the buses, lined up across the lawn about a hundred yards away, were already beginning to pull out from the curb. No problem. The coast was clear, and while he never thought so at the time, Greg was lucky enough to have spent much of his life as the smallest boy in school, which meant he was far more experienced at running than most boys twice his size, a necessity, since that was normally who he was running from.
With the same determination he’d once shown when chased by a fifteen-foot-tall ogre, he abandoned the safety of the wall and darted across the lawn. Not a bad effort, really. He made it nearly halfway to the curb before Manny stepped out from behind a large bole to block his way.
So, this time the ogre was ahead of me.
Greg managed to grind to a halt an instant before his face collided with Manny’s stomach, but his pack was slower in stopping. Despite a lot of frantic flailing and grabbing, Greg felt the bag fall from his shoulder, tossing a bewildered Rake onto the lawn.
“Going somewhere, Hart?”
Greg didn’t hear. His only thought was to dive on top of Rake, who let out a panicked screech not of this Earth.
“What a baby,” Manny jeered. “You scream like a girl. Get up and fight like a man.”
With Rake barely pinned beneath one shoulder, Greg didn’t dare get up. He reached blindly backward for his backpack, managed to snag one strap . . .
Manny casually stepped on the fabric before Greg could reel it in. “What’s the matter? Too weak to wift your wittle backpack?”
With a maniacal laugh, Manny slid his foot away, taunting Greg to try again. Greg took a deep breath, gripped Rake’s fur, and squirmed to his knees, yanking on the pack as he went. This time Manny was less subtle about stomping on it.
Aw, man. Greg stared at the enormous legs before him, fantasizing over how they might look dangling from a dragon’s jaws. He followed them up to Manny’s even larger torso, but before he could look much higher, a bright pinpoint of light suddenly split the air with a sizzling zap and caught Greg’s eye.
Manny’s smile faded. He turned hesitantly to see what Greg was staring at. Greg didn’t need to look. He had seen this phenomenon twice before. He had an idea Manny shouldn’t be seeing it now. Panicked, he jumped up and lunged for Manny’s shoulders.
He probably should have let go of his bag first.
In a disturbing reenactment of David and Goliath, Greg whirled the backpack in a wide arc that struck Manny squarely in the ear. Manny let out a yowl befitting his size and dropped to his knees, but Greg took little notice. He barely got out one hysterical screech himself before the space ahead burst wide open, roaring louder than a dozen angry Manny Malices, and sucked him off his feet.
Photographs by Nancy Allen
Table of Contents
Title page
Dedication
Acknowledgments
The Mighty Greg Hart
Hart-Felt Greetings
Hart-Wrenching Farewell
The Enchanted Forest
Hart to Heart
The Molten Moor
Witch Hazel
Hart Attack
Damaged Hart
Hart of the Matter
The Prophet
Fey Field
Celebration of the Hart
Aid from the Hart
Hart of a Leader
Doubting Hart
The Infinite Spire
The Passageway of Shifted Dimensions
Captive Hart
The Dragon Ruuan
Promise from the Hart
Reunion of the Hart
Home Is Where the Hart Is
The Adventure Continues!
