Zachary Pill, Of Monsters and Magic
Page 29
promise Madame Kloochie that she’d never do it again…and I don’t think she ever did.”
Zachary remembered seeing Robin with his own eyes. She looked so beautiful with the daisy in her long bright red hair, and he found himself hoping to meet her soon. Bret was staring at him, and he felt his cheeks begin to burn. He glanced away.
“Want to look at more of your father’s stuff?” Bret asked.
“Probably safer if we don’t.” Zachary said. He wasn’t about to send Bret to the hospital again.
“You’re going to have to, sooner or later,” Bret said, “and the way that Krage guy is leaving messages, it should be sooner.”
“I’m not putting you in danger again!” Zachary blurted. He hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but he’d been thinking it constantly since the ambulance had driven off with Bret.
“I told you that didn’t have anything to do with you. I got into a fight with my parents. I hate them.”
“But they’re your parents,” Zachary said, though he knew from Bret’s memories he had good reasons to feel the way he did.
“Not very good ones,” Bret countered. “You’re the one who had real parents. And I’m pretty sure your dad would want you to be able to defend yourself if Krage attacks.”
“But you got so scared—”
“I know,” Bret said, “but I’m not letting you do this alone. And I know from your memories that you feel like something bad’s going to happen if you don’t learn more about magic soon. Besides, how can we help your dad without magic?”
Zachary was torn with indecision. Obviously, it would be safer to have Bret’s help to investigate his father’s items, and it was true he would be a sitting duck if Krage found him right then. However, neither of those reasons would allow him to trade Bret’s safety for his own.
“I’ll keep studying, but not with you—”
“I’m helping,” Bret said, “whether you like it or not!” He turned, opened Zachary’s closet and pulled his father’s box into the middle of the room. “Now are you going to pull the stuff out, or am I?”
Bret’s hands were shaking.
“I’ll do it,” Zachary said.
Settling to his knees on the floor, Zachary handed his friend the tiny U-Ghoul casket, the brown leather ring case—minus one ring, the green wand, and the “Googin’s Mind” spray bottle. Bret lined the already investigated items up on the bed.
The next item in the box was a polka-dotted cloth bag with a draw-string at the top. Zachary lifted the sack and felt the heavy contents shift. He pulled the drawstring open, revealing hundreds of colorful marbles inside. Lifting a translucent red one out, he could see a dark figure in the center. Zachary peered closer and saw a tiny face pressed against the glass. Its hands started waving.
Startled, he dropped it.
“There’s someone in there!”
“N-No way!” Bret reached a trembling hand to pick the marble up from the carpet.
Zachary pulled a blue one from the bag and, once again, saw someone or something inside. Though more or less person-shaped, the tiny occupant didn’t seem to have a nose, mouth, eyes, or hair, and its cream-colored body was indistinctly formed like a clay sculpture he might have made in first grade. But first grade art projects didn’t move on their own. The other marbles all seemed to have similar occupants, all waving excitedly, and some even jumping up and down.
“They’re like tiny prisoners,” Bret said.
“Kind of like blob people,” Zachary added.
Pleased to see that Bret hadn’t yet started trembling, Zachary gently returned the marbles to the bag, pulled the drawstring tight and handed it to Bret to be arranged on the bed.
Curious, Zachary next grabbed a carry tray with half a dozen matching bottles, all with corks. Zachary lifted one out. Its label read: “Snuffington’s Sneezing Powder.”
He slid it back down and read the next one: “Snuffington’s Itching Powder.”
Two others were for “Sleeping” and “Coughing.” As he read the last label aloud, it struck both Zachary and Bret as particularly unusual: “Mrs. Snuffington’s patented Make Him Fix the House Powder.”
“Grrrr.”
“D’you hear something?” Zachary asked, handing Bret the entire bottle carrier.
Bret shook his head, but his eyes were wide as he placed the bottles on the bed.
Thinking maybe it was a magic instruction book, Zachary gingerly pulled out a black, leather bound notebook stuffed so full of pages it looked ready to explode. He barely touched the single taught leather strap which held it together when picture-filled pages burst like party confetti into the air. Growls, snarls and roars filled the room as Zachary grabbed for the nearest fluttering page. Before his fingers could snatch the paper a golden-red dragon picture came alive and lunged out at him. He wrenched his hand back, but not in time. Tiny fangs tore a gash across his pinky!
THE END
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With Dragon Fear