by L. C. Miller
Morphing class seemed to be a little calmer. Mrs. Queenly asked for all plastic mice they’d been practicing on in class. Laying hers on the desk, Jogaa chirped at her. Smiling at him, Abby patted his head before going back to her desk.
After class was over, Ethan, Aaron, Carly, and Abby went into the forgotten room. It wasn’t long before Abby remembered that morning’s conversation. “Hey, Carly, have you talked to your dad lately about what’s bothering him?”
Carly shook her head. “I’ve tried, but he keeps telling me nothing he can’t handle is wrong.”
Abby told them what she overheard that morning. “You know now that you mention it, I could have sworn I heard the front door open this morning, but when I asked him if he left, he shook his head and went into his office. I never saw his face.” It wasn’t long before the bell rang and the four of them got up.
During lunch, Mrs. Queenly came up to Abby and handed her a letter. Opening it, Abby read:
The Madam Winters requests you, Sarah, and I meet with her tonight at 6 p.m. You need to come home straight after school.
J. Herrin
“I wonder what it’s about,” Ethan muttered as he finished his peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
Abby shrugged. “Who knows?”
Martin came running up to them. Out of breath, he gasped, “Mind if I join you?” Thomas and Perry stopped some feet away, glaring at him.
“Sure,” said Ethan, grinning at their angry looks.
“What were they doing?” asked Carly as they stomped off.
“I ran into them in the hall. They wanted me to write their greenery reports. I told them I couldn’t possibly make the report sound as dumb as they were, and then I ran. Been running since the hospital wing.”
Laughing, Abby gave him a cup of water.
“Want a caramel turtle?” offered Carly.
Taking the turtle, he yelped before dropping it. “It bit me!”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I think only the caramel snapping turtles are left,” said Carly apologetically. The dazed turtle slowly made its way across the table.
Abby knew she was right about something being wrong when she arrived at her defense class after lunch. Mr. Peterson was sitting in his chair looking more forlorn and defeated than he had that morning. Even some of the students knew something was wrong once he made them get out their books for silent reading.
Shrugging at her, Ethan opened his book before quickly sliding his Superman comic book on top. “Didn’t know he was a Wielder, did ya?” he whispered to a surprised Abby. “Normals will think of anything to cover up what they don’t understand.” He nodded at Abby before going back to his comic book.
Sighing, Abby flipped through her book. She gasped when she came across a picture of the twelve men and women who discovered the twelve uses of fire lilies in 1992. In the middle—wearing his normal bright turquoise robe—stood Mr. Spinner, her Wielder teacher in the Mystic camp; the one that Esther got to teach Abby so she would stop having outbursts of magic happening every time she got emotional.
Ethan leaned over to see what caught her attention. Gaea Bauble, Aretha Queenly, and John Peterson, among others were mentioned in the article. “Yeah, I heard about that. Don’t know the guy in the middle, though.”
“Mr. Spinner,” Abby interrupted.
“That’s Mr. Spinner? I read about him in one of the magic history books. He disappeared a few years ago. No one knows what happened to him. Some say he was exploring in the unknown wilderness and got eaten by a dragon.”
“Who are these other people?” Abby asked, looking at other unfamiliar faces.
“I’m not sure of some, but I know that’s Marina Marsupial, she is one of the mythical beasts teachers and handlers. Gregory Hopscitch, the dude with the monocle, studies orcs somewhere in New York, and William Reed, is the dude, well … your dad, on the left.”
Though Ethan whispered, Abby still glanced around to see if anyone heard before going back to the photo. She stared at her father, William Reed. He wasn’t a very tall man, but he had thick, wavy hair to his shoulders. The twelve people were all waving at her. Some were shaking hands with each other, but William seemed to be looking behind the camera, grinning happily at someone else.
Abby almost jumped when he bowed and his hair changed from brown to red to blue to blond. “He’s like me,” she whispered. She had never seen a picture of her dad and had always wondered what he looked like. She looked up to see Mr. Peterson holding an old frame and staring at a photo.
“You’re staring at that picture awfully hard,” Ethan whispered, tapping Abby’s desk.
“What? It’s interesting. I’ve never seen pictures of William Reed before.”
“Really? Not once?” Ethan asked.
Abby shook her head as she studied the picture some more.
“Oh, by the way, it’s Aaron’s birthday on Friday. Have no idea what he wants, though,” Ethan said, going back to his comic book.
It wasn’t much longer until the class was over. “That was weird,” muttered Ethan as they made their way outside. They met up with Carly and Aaron and told them what happened. Ethan and Abby didn’t mention the picture of William Reed.
“I’ll bug him tonight to see what’s up,” Carly said as the four of them got on their brooms and headed home. Mr. and Mrs. Herrin were waiting on them.
“Ready, Abby?” asked Mrs. Herrin as Abby put her bag down.
“Sure,” Abby answered, shooting a glance at Ethan and Aaron.
“Can we go?” asked Ethan. Brannon came through the door with Misty.
“I’m sorry, but no,” replied Sarah. “Hello, Misty, how are you?”
Misty shook hands with the Herrins and smiled at Abby. “You’re in the mid-morning greenery class on Tuesdays and Thursdays, aren’t you?” When Abby nodded, Misty continued. “You’re about the only person who never needs help in there.” Abby smiled and thanked her.
“Well, you four have fun; we need to be going,” said Mr. Jackson as he put on his coat. Waving bye, Abby followed them outside.
Mrs. Queenly and Ms. Bauble were waiting at the forest’s edge. They smiled at Abby and gestured for her to lead. Abby walked to the middle of the path before turning left and leading the way.
“We’re almost there,” she told them, holding out a low branch for them to pass. They finally made it to the clearing. The adults looked around, save for Mrs. Queenly. She stared directly at the tree.
“Where is it?” asked Ms. Bauble.
“Right in the middle of the clearing,” Abby replied. Seeing nothing, they glanced back at her. Abby touched the giant white oak’s trunk.
The four adults watched as the huge tree loomed over their heads. “Whoa,” murmured Mr. Herrin, looking straight up. Abby kept her hand on the tree’s base and watched their expressions as the woods around them came to life. The adults gazed at the tents in wonder. Marcella was hanging clothes to dry when she spotted them. She glared at Abby.
“What are you doing, girl? Bringing them here?” she demanded.
“I told her to bring them,” said the Madam, who was standing behind Marcella.
“Here? In our home? More Wielders!”
“Yes, and they are welcome here.” The Madam raised an eyebrow at Marcella, who turned on her heel and stomped off. “I apologize for her behavior,” said the Madam. “Come, let us go to a more private area.” She led them to her tent. Opening the flap, she gestured them inside.
“Oh my!” exclaimed Mrs. Herrin once they entered. In the middle of the tent, between Mia and the healer, Maude, sat Ms. Eleanor Rable.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Ms. Rable wrapped her arms around herself and began to rock back and forth. “What happened to her?” demanded Mrs. Herrin. She started to step forward, but stopped when Ms. Rable started rocking faster.
“Our watchers found her. The woods around her house was burned to the ground,” the Madam explained.
Abby stopped staring at the rocking woman
and turned to the Madam. “What? What about the wood elves?”
“I’m sorry, Abby. Everything was burned, and not by any normal fire. They barely got Ms. Rable out, and she wasn’t conscious. She was luckier than her friend, though; an older woman whose brown hair was in a bun on top of her head. She was also very tall.”
Mrs. Herrin put her hand over her mouth. “Ms. Martin?” asked Mr. Herrin, putting his arm around his wife and Abby. “It sounds like her. She was the only woman in town who ever went to Eleanor’s house. And even then, it was rare.”
The Madam nodded, and then looked at Ms. Rable. The Madam’s roses were a pale blue—the color of sadness. “It took them a month or so to heal Ms. Rable’s injuries. We believe that a torture curse was used, as quicker healing methods did nothing. I’m afraid she’ll be like this the rest of her life.”
Ms. Rable suddenly sat up and yelled, “I know nothing. They came and ... then they left.” Maude got her calmed down, but Ms. Rable kept rocking and mumbling under her breath.
“Abby, why don’t you step outside?” said the Madam. Abby nodded and quickly left.
Going to one of the empty campfires, Abby stood, staring at the flame. “A silver coin for a magic egg?” she heard someone ask.
Looking over, she saw the bearded wandering trader standing near her. He took off his backpack with a groan and sat it in front of the fire. “What kind of egg?” Abby asked.
“I don’t be knowing. It could be anything. A dragon, a griffon, or even pigmies.”
Abby giggled. “Pigmies aren’t hatched.”
Rainy join them. “Now he’s saying they’re pigmies? Earlier it was miniature elephant eggs.”
The trader grinned up at them. “And as they could be, for I don’t know what they are.”
Abby and Rainy sat down on either side of him. “Where did you find the baby griffon?” Abby asked when she saw Pebbles sleeping near the fire.
“I heard her cryin’ for her momma on a clifftop somewhere in California. She was a skinny little thing. Bit me the first time she saw me. Of course, after I gave her some food, she took a liking to me.”
He tickled the baby griffon, who tried to bite him for waking her up. Abby looked at the man’s bag and remembered Aaron’s birthday was coming up. “Can I see the eggs?”
The trader nodded, opened his bag, and took out a rather large bowl filled with linens. “Here they are. Now, don’t go touching them until you buy them. That’s how they know who their momma is, by who handles their shell.”
Abby looked the eggs over; there were more than a dozen. Some were the size of softballs, some were like bright blue tennis balls, and a few looked like gold golf balls.
There was a pale yellow one the size of a baseball that seemed to stick out the most. “What about that one?” Abby asked, pointing at it.
Wearing a furry glove, he moved some eggs around. “You want this one?” Nodding, Abby dug into her pocket for some coins. The Herrins gave them allowances when they kept everything clean without magic and did their homework.
“It’s not for me; my friend has a birthday this week. I have three silver coins and four copper ones. Will that be enough?”
Although they were sitting, the trader looked down at her. “Tell you what, ’cause I like ye, I’ll take it, and you can have the egg and one of the linens to keep it warm until you give it your buddy.”
Abby handed him the coins and gently took the wrapped egg from him. “Best keep that someplace warm,” he told Abby as she and Rainy left.
“You probably overpaid for that, and you don’t even know what it is,” said Rainy as they went over to her tent.
“I know, but I need to get Aaron something, and he might like this.”
“Marcella isn’t here; she went to the gardens.” Going inside, Abby saw Julie reading by candlelight. Her pale blonde hair stood out.
“Is he still outside?” she asked when they entered.
Rainy rolled her eyes. “Yes, he is. She’s scared of the trader,” she explained to Abby.
“I am not!” Julie jumped up, stomping her foot.
“Then why do you always hide in here when he’s in camp?” demanded Rainy, sitting down on the furred floor.
“I do not always hide!” muttered an aggravated Julie. She took her book and a black scarf and stomped outside as if to prove Rainy wrong.
“She’s getting stranger by the minute. So, what do you think of your old foster mother? I heard it happened about a month or so after we left. It seems as if the Wielders were right about someone being after us.”
“Yeah, I know. I don’t know what to feel for Ms. Rable, other than sorry. I feel bad that Ms. Martin died. I mean, I know I didn’t like her and all, but still. I don’t wish death on anybody.”
Julie came hurrying back in. Now she wore the black scarf over her head. “See, told you I wasn’t scared.”
Sighing, Abby got up. “Well, I’d better see what they’re up to.”
She hugged Rainy and went outside. It proved to be perfect timing as the Herrins, Mrs. Queenly, and Ms. Bauble came outside. “Everything is settled. Ms. Rable will go live at Healing Waters Hospital. Her mind, I don’t think, will ever come back.”
Mrs. Herrin seemed a little sad when she hugged Abby. Kissing Abby’s forehead, she leaned back. “What do you have there?”
“Oh, it’s an egg. I got it for Aaron for his birthday.” Abby didn’t say more, realizing it might be best not to tell them she didn’t know what it would be when it hatched.
“She will be moved on Thursday?” asked the Madam, following them to the white oak tree.
Nodding, Mr. Jackson said, “Sarah and I will deliver Ms. Rable to the hospital.”
Abby waved bye to Rainy as the five of them stepped up to the tree.
Touching the trunk, the voices began to fade, people became shadows, and then the forest was the only sound heard. “That’s pretty impressive,” remarked Mr. Herrin, looking around.
“The tree disappears completely,” said Mrs. Herrin in awe when she turned around.
Abby smiled at them, hugging the egg close to her. When they finally arrived back home, Abby quickly went up to her room. Opening the small drawer in the bedside table, she looked at Bombers. “Now this egg is for Aaron, so don’t get any ideas about eating it, okay?” He nodded to her, staring at the pale yellow egg. She lifted him up to lay around her neck before going to knock on Ethan’s door.
Aaron opened it. “Well, what happened?” he asked as soon as she came in. Abby quickly told them what happened to Ms. Rable, Ms. Martin, and the woods behind Ms. Rable’s house.
“Any word from Carly?” Abby asked, sitting on the floor. Bombers uncurled from her shoulders to drop beside her.
“Not yet,” replied Ethan, watching the snake. “Hey, that one’s clean!” He lunged for the T-shirt Bombers was rolling in on the floor.
Laughing, Abby picked Bombers up. Brannon soon knocked on the door. “Hey, Abby, I finally found that book for you.”
“Okay, cool,” she said, following him out of the room. She stopped in his doorway, not going in.
“Here you go.” He grabbed the book off his bed.
Abby read the title aloud, “Borgan Maseroff’s Fairy Folklore and More.”
“I meant to give it to you last week, but I forgot,” said Brannon.
“That’s fine,” replied Abby, flipping through the pages.
“Were you one of the Mystics dancing at school?” he asked before she could leave.
“Yes.”
“I knew when Mom told me you had detention that you had to be dancing,” he laughed. “Which one were you?”
Grinning, Abby looked at him. “I was in the second row, and I had red hair.”
“Did they think you drank another fake potion to change it?”
Abby lost her grin when she nodded again. “Well, they think I drank them. I actually dumped them out into Mrs. Queenly’s trash can. I don’t need to drink anything to change my hair, m
uch less something that tastes of cold tomato soup.”
“Good,” said Brannon, “because that sounds gross.”
Laughing, Abby thanked him for the book again and went into her room. Bombers slid down from her shoulders to crawl up the bedpost. Abby checked on the egg in the drawer. Careful not to touch it, she rewrapped the cloth.
~*~
Arriving at school the next morning, Abby saw Carly waiting for them at the broomstick drop-off. “What happened?” Abby asked after she skidded to a stop and jumped off her broomstick.
Carly threw her hands into the air. “Nothing! He won’t tell me anything. I kept telling him I can handle it, but he won’t tell me!”
Since Carly sounded angry, Abby tried to cheer her up. “Maybe it’s not him thinking you can’t handle it, but more like he can’t handle you knowing?”
Carly shrugged. “Either way, he should tell me. I’m his daughter, so he shouldn’t keep things from me.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
When lunchtime came around, Carly was nowhere to be seen. “Did she leave?” wondered Ethan as they glanced around.
“Maybe she’s talking to her dad?” Abby suggested. They ate lunch, scanning around every so often for Carly. She never showed.
During their defense class, Abby was reading about Horace’s hexes and how they all backfired, when the class was disrupted. The two council members Abby had met, Mr. Jenkins and his assistant, came into the room looking grave. Mr. Peterson ordered all of the students to quiet down, and he gestured the men into his office.
“Okay, everyone, get out your books and begin silently reading chapter 7,” he ordered before shutting the door behind him.
Immediately the room was full of low whispers as everyone asked what was going on. “That’s odd,” Ethan said. “They never interrupt class like that.”
Abby continued to stare at the door. “You think Carly knows? Maybe we can ask her after class?”
