"Jedadiah and his family discovered another element of their new circumstance when Liam went off to war and was killed in battle. Not long after this tragedy, another room magically became a part of the home, appearing out of nowhere. It took Jedadiah only a short time to realize that within the room, other family members were able to perform Liam's ability—and Jedadiah himself was able to do it any time. This happened again some years later when his youngest daughter, Rose, died from an illness. Her power to have eyes in the back of her head also metamorphosed into a new room and, again, the power transferred to Jedadiah.
"What Jedadiah didn't know was after he passed away, his oldest living child received every power Jedadiah had possessed. This transference of powers has continued for these many long years. And the Tinker who holds the powers of those who came before came to be known as the Keeper of the House."
The tale ended and the Relic returned to its normal color. Grandfather gazed at his three grandchildren, ready for the questions he was sure would come. After all, they had just heard a part of their family history from a weird glowing object.
"Every room in this house has magic in it?" Chase asked.
"Except most of the bathrooms," said Grandfather, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "We had to add most of those ourselves. Considering the age of the house, they are a fairly new invention."
Chase remembered the one he'd been in earlier with its claw-foot bathtub and old-fashioned chain-pull toilet. "What about the bathroom down the hall and around the corner from your study?"
Grandfather's eyes crinkled as he smiled. "Yes, that particular one does have magic. It's your Great-Uncle Thomas's room for his teleporting power. Leave it to Thomas to stick his magical ability in the bathing room." He chuckled. "One day, some years ago, I was in there showering when I began singing one of my favorite ditties, 'Meet me in St. Louis,' and poof! I found myself naked on a street in St. Louis, Missouri. Thomas would have loved that one. I ducked behind a large refuse can and hastily teleported myself back home. I never sang in the shower again."
Everyone laughed, except Andy. "So, uh, what magical power does this room have?" he asked, frowning. "What if I say the wrong thing and cause something weird, like maybe tulips or broccoli, to grow out of my ears."
"No worries there," said Grandfather. "The attic has no special power. Its only use is to keep our Relic secure."
"And no one knows what happened to the missing piece?" asked Chase.
"We've wondered about it, and even looked for it, but it has never been seen," said Grandfather. He rose from his chair. "Let's head back down and I'll answer more questions in the study."
They clambered out of the painting's door and hopped onto the spiral escalator, which was now spinning downward. Chase, the last to follow, glanced back. The tall door had already disappeared into the picture. Before losing sight, he saw the tiny doors skittering around on the painting, trying to make it much harder for someone to find the one secret door.
The ride down was even more dizzying than the ride up. They had to grip the banister or risk falling. "Why didn't we just teleport into the attic?" asked Chase when his head stopped whirling.
"It's not possible," said Grandfather. "The only way is up the spiral stairs and through the secret door we used. The attic is well-protected to keep the Relic safe from being stolen and used for evil."
Evil. The word sounded ominous, and frightening. Chase couldn't help but picture a tall, sinister man twirling the ends of his enormous black mustache. So who would want to steal our Relic and use it for evil? he thought as he trailed after the others. Was it the same people who kidnapped Dad, or someone completely different? He shivered and rubbed the goosebumps popping out on his arms. Who would've thought magic was so dangerous?
Five minutes later, they were back in the study and seated around the cozy fireplace. Chase relaxed as the warmth from the flames seeped into his chilled body.
"What power does this room have, Grandfather?" asked Andy, glancing around as if he expected to see magic oozing from the walls.
"This is the Shielding Room," said Grandfather. He whirled and pointed his finger. "Shield!"
In a flash, a bluish-white barrier surrounded his slipper right as Maxwell sprang for it. The little ferret bounced back across the desk.
"Cool!" said Chase. "Any of us can do that when we're in here?"
"It's how we were able to make fireballs in Maxwell's bedroom," said Janie breathlessly, "and why I made your plates disappear in the dining room! It's because when we're in that room we have the ability to use that power. Just say the magic words, and voila!"
"So how many rooms are there?" asked Andy.
Grandfather laughed. "I have no idea. I've never counted them. I would say three hundred, at least."
"Wow!"
"How do you know what power each room has?" asked Chase, feeling as if all he ever did lately was ask questions.
"You'll find clues painted in the wallpaper that you will need to decipher," said Grandfather.
"What do the clues look like?" said Andy.
"You'll find out when you visit the rooms," he answered. "Every room is different."
"And you're the Keeper of the House now and you have every magical power too?" asked Chase.
"That is correct," said Grandfather. "As my father was before me and his older sister before him. If something had happened to me before Ben was of age, Thomas, my younger brother, would have been next, if he hadn't had his most unfortunate accident. So when I'm gone Ben will be next, then you, and if something happens to you, Andy will take over. If something happens to Andy, it becomes Clair's responsibility, and after her, James, Janie's older brother."
"And then me," said Janie dejectedly. "I'm always last."
"If someone doesn't want to be Keeper," said Grandfather, winking at Janie, "they can pass everything to the next in line. You might get your chance."
Chase slouched in his chair and frowned as everything Grandfather had just said hit him like a speeding bus. If his dad really was…dead (he cringed at the thought of it), and if something happened to Grandfather, then Chase would be the next Keeper. Oh man, he thought as he tried not to panic and freak out in front of the others, I'm sure as heck not ready for that!
Luckily, the study door swung open, cutting into Chase's frightening thoughts. Mrs. Periwinkle walked in carrying a silver tray. "Anyone for milk and snickerdoodles?" she asked as she set the tray on a table.
"Wonderful!" exclaimed Grandfather. "I do love a good snickerdoodle."
"Grandfather?" said Chase as he handed Andy another cookie while munching on his sixth. "If the house used to be in Scotland, how did it get here?"
"Thomas teleported it fifty years ago. We wanted it to be in a new secret location. Because of the size, it wasn't easy to move. We had to combine all our magic to do it."
"Hey, Grandfather," said Andy, "will you help us practice the shielding power?"
"Splendid idea, Andy!" exclaimed Grandfather. "Let's all give it a go."
Everyone scrambled to their feet.
"When you wish to make a shield," said Grandfather, "say 'shield' and focus on where you want it to materialize."
"Shield!" yelled Chase. He concentrated with all his might until he was surrounded by a glowing barrier. "Okay, Grandfather, throw a fireball at me." The flashing-orange ball whizzed toward him, but the shield fizzled before it got there and, BANG! his t-shirt had a big, black hole in it. He gaped at his ruined shirt. "Oh no! This was my favorite."
"Oops. So sorry, Chase." Grandfather's mustache twitched as he tried not to smile. He cleared his throat. "Don't worry. I'm sure you'll have shielding mastered in no time at all."
They spent the rest of the afternoon practicing. Andy even managed to freeze Maxwell when he attempted to sneak off with Grandfather's slipper again.
Taking a break, Chase flopped into a chair and grabbed another cookie. Looking out the window, he watched the storm grow wilder by the second. Hai
l stones pounded the wooden deck while glowing lightning flashes were followed by booming waves of thunder.
He'd just swallowed another mouthful of snickerdoodle when the deck's French doors burst open. Persephone stumbled in, bringing with her a swirling wind that swept through the room, blew the papers from the desk and showered everyone in a cool mist. She was soaked, her hair plastered to her head.
"Mr. Hiram! You have to come now!"
CHAPTER SEVEN
The Return
Grandfather pushed himself to his feet. "Persephone, what's wrong?"
"In—in the b—backyard!" she sputtered through the water pouring down her face. "Please hurry." She waved at them to follow her then darted away.
Grandfather, Chase, Andy and Janie ran out into the drenching downpour and across the slippery deck. The next lightning strike felt so near Chase thought his hair must be standing on end. BOOM! The thunder crashed again.
They sprinted around the corner of the house where Persephone fell to her knees next to someone in the vegetable garden outside the kitchen door.
"Mom!" screamed Janie. She dropped to the muddy ground. "Grandfather, we've got to help her!"
"Let's get her into the house," said Grandfather. He waved his hand and conjured a stretcher. "Chase, Andy, lift Clair's legs, Janie and I will take her shoulders."
Gooey mud oozed around Chase's sneakers as he grasped Clair's sopping pant leg. He couldn't believe how thin and fragile she felt, even through the thick fabric. Besides that, her jeans and shirt were torn and bloody, and one shoe was missing.
They laid her carefully on the long canvas carrier. Grandfather pointed his finger. A glowing, green beam flowed from the tip, surrounding Clair and the stretcher. They floated up and over the garden.
Persephone held the door open as the bedraggled group tramped into the kitchen.
"Miranda, we're taking Clair to the Healing room," said Grandfather. "Will you please get some hot water and warm towels ready and bring them as soon as possible?"
The housekeeper nodded and set to work while a mop scurried behind the others and scrubbed the muddy floor.
They followed Clair through the house, the stretcher magically bending around furniture and tight corners.
"Poor Aunt Clair," murmured Andy when she was resting on the Healing Room's four-poster bed at last.
Her breathing was quick and shallow as if she had just run a marathon, and even through the mud, her face looked red and feverish. "Ha—have to get home," she mumbled. "Need Dad. Must—must get away. Hurry, they're coming. Don't let go! Help! Help me please—"
The kids looked at each other. "What's she talking about?" asked Chase. "We are helping her."
"The fever must be making her delirious," said Grandfather.
All at once, a long, terrifying scream filled the air.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
It had to be the most frightening sound Chase had ever heard and it was hard to believe that it came from such a frail-looking person. He clamped his hands over his ears. "Shouldn't we call—" he yelled over the wailing, which ended before he finished his sentence, "—a doctor?"
Crying and sniffling, Janie knelt by the bed and clutched her mother's hand. "The Healing Room will make her feel better, won't it, Grandfather?"
"It should help, but she's extremely sick," he said, placing his hand on Clair's forehead. "I can heal her cuts and bruises with my own healing magic, but with her illness, I believe she should be diagnosed and treated by someone more experienced about these sorts of things than I."
He held his hand over the bloody gash in her leg. Light-blue beams flowed from his palm and into the wound. It vanished within seconds. He did the same to her other injuries.
"Oh, the poor dear," said Miranda as she entered the room with her arms filled with supplies.
"Miranda," said Grandfather, "why don't we leave you and Janie to make her comfortable before we give the doctor a call. Will you please let us know when you're done?"
Out in the hallway, Chase wiped at the drops running down his nose. "Do you think she'll be okay?"
"I hope so," said Grandfather, worry lines furrowed across his forehead.
"What about our dad? Why isn't he here?" Chase glared at the closed door. "We need to ask Aunt Clair what happened!"
"We'll hear her story when she's ready," said Grandfather. "We just need to be patient."
Persephone and Andy sat cross-legged against the wall and watched Chase walk back and forth. His soggy sneakers squelched with every step.
"What if he's lying somewhere hurt or sick!" he exclaimed, the swish, swish of his wet jeans making as much noise as his squishy shoes. "We have to find out."
"While we're waiting," said Grandfather, staring at his grandson's pants, "maybe we should tidy up a bit."
With a quick twirl of his finger, four small tornados popped into the hallway. The kids squinched their eyes shut as the winds whistled and whipped around them. When the tornados finally spun away, they were all completely clean and dry.
"Much better," said Grandfather, pushing his sparkling glasses up higher onto his nose.
Chase's clothes now felt tingly and toasty, as if they'd just come out of a warm dryer. He glanced down. "Hey! What happened?" His green t-shirt was gone. He now had on a dark-blue one with the word "Mariners" written in white and blue letters across the front. "How the heck did—"
His yelling was cut short by the bedroom door opening. Mrs. Periwinkle stepped into the hall. Andy and Persephone scrambled to their feet.
"Mom!" cried Persephone. "How's she doing?"
"Clair's resting a little better—"
"I need to talk to her," said Chase, forgetting all about the switched shirts. "She needs to tell us where our dad is."
"That will have to wait," said Mrs. Periwinkle, placing a hand on his arm. "At the moment, she's not in any shape to answer questions."
They filed back into the bedroom. The bedside lamps had been lit and together they cast a rosy glow over the room. Clair looked frailer than ever lying beneath the bed's heavy blankets. Janie had curled up on one side of her, and Maxwell on the other.
Her breathing was a little more normal, but she was still murmuring some curious things. "Can't let them find me. My fault. Can't believe it happened. Got to warn...keep them safe. Should've listened…" Tears trickled from her closed eyes and fell into her dark hair.
"Is she dreaming?" whispered Andy. "Or is she talking about something real?"
"I don't know," said Grandfather sadly.
Chase shoved his hands into his pockets and gazed at his aunt. Mrs. Periwinkle was right. It was going to be next to impossible to find out about his dad any time soon. Without a word, he turned and left the room. He'd have to deal with it later. And, it was hard to stay mad at her when obviously she'd been through some sort of traumatic experience.
He wandered back to the study. The rain had stopped. In fact, the low evening sun now peeked through the clouds. It was hard to believe it was the same day, so much had happened already. Dinnertime had come and gone, but at the moment he didn't feel hungry. His stomach felt as though seagulls were dive-bombing for fish in it.
The French doors still hung wide open, making it easy to see the island next to theirs in the distance. Walking out onto the slippery deck, he leaned against the railing and stared down at the rain-soaked beach as he ran through his mind everything Clair had been mumbling. He had so many questions. Who was looking for her? What did she need help with? And what had happened that was her fault?
"Is that a boat down there?"
Chase jumped about a foot into the air. He'd been so lost in thought, he hadn't heard Andy and Persephone walking up behind him.
"Where?"
Persephone pointed to the far side of the beach. "Over there." Way down the beach a motorboat sat on the sandy shore. Waves lapped at the back of it as if trying to coax the boat back into the sea. "It's not ours so I wonder who it belongs to."
Chase
squinted at it. It looked as if something big and dark was huddled in the bottom. "Dad?" He sprinted across the deck and down the stairs.
"Chase! Wait up!" yelled Persephone.
He didn't want to stop. He had to get to his dad. Rushing down the grassy hill, he leaped onto the beach and ran along the water's edge. Gritty, wet sand flew behind him with each long stride. Gasping for breath, he skidded to a stop next to the motorboat.
When Persephone arrived a moment later, she found Chase slouched in the boat, clutching a large, black coat.
"It's not him," he said, his voice sounding flat and hollow, even to his own ears. "I was so sure when I saw this." He wanted so much to look into his dad's eyes again and tell him how much he'd missed him.
Andy ran up and bent over to catch his breath. "What is it, Chase?"
He tossed the soaked jacket onto the sand. "Just this ugly old coat."
Persephone reached down and grabbed it. Perching herself on a huge chunk of grayish-white driftwood, she dug through the pockets. She pulled out a few pieces of colorful paper. "Looks like British money." Laying the notes aside, she searched another pocket. This time she found a plastic card. "And a driver's license."
"Let me see," said Chase. She handed it to him.
"It's Dad!" yelled Andy.
"What's it doing here?" Chase stared at the picture and the name on the card. Benjamin Thomas Tinker.
"This must be his overcoat," said Persephone. "It looks like a man's."
Chase looked up as she held the coat in front of her. Their eyes met. Chase realized for the first time that Persephone's eyes were an unusually vivid shade of green. Feeling his face burning, he looked away. "Do you, um, think this means he was in England at some point?"
"I don't know," she answered. "It sure is turning into a huge mystery." She unzipped an inside pocket. "Wait, I found something else. It's a passport." Opening the small blue book, she thumbed through it. "It's Clair's."
Chase Tinker & The House of Magic Page 6
