Esteemed Master Librarian,
In case you are unaware, I have retired from my scholarly pursuits. However, something unexpected has occurred. Please accept this first-hand account as proof that Weather Wielders exist, and I have the key to unlocking their potential.
It began last summer, when an elf knocked on my door, disturbing my mid-day tea.
“For first place in the Camp Conniption popsicle stick sculpture competition, we have two winners!” Camp Director Naomi Addison addressed the auditorium of middle school girls. “Our judges gave both Melissa Logan and Zinnia Zunk a perfect ten.”
The girls clapped as Zinnia and I came up on stage to accept our ribbons.
I stared out at the cold gray afternoon. Some summer holiday this was turning out to be. Spending the whole of June on a road trip through the French countryside had sounded idyllic when my parents suggested it. I’d expected to be frolicking in Alpine meadows with wildflowers in my hair like Heidi and swimming in gorgeous blue mountain lakes.
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June 7. The day I get my third memory.
I can’t keep a skip out of my step as I hurry down the forest path, humming.
An oddly cold breeze whips around me, blowing my dark curls into my face.
I sigh and roll my eyes at the sky. Though mostly obscured by branches, I can tell it’s gloomy and full of clouds.
Click. Crop. Brighten. Save. I remove the same flaw from each of my sister Sadie’s wedding photos. Offering up my backyard and photography skills had me feeling like Sister of the Year until I noticed the blemish in the background of every image. Evidently, my neighbors tied a ragged, ugly eyesore of a red scarf
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“Haddie Underwood, I always knew someday I’d have to post your bond.” My elder sister Zelda peered at me from the other side of the bars before her gaze slithered over to the man beside me. “But you. I can honestly say I never expected to bail my own father out of jail. What in all of Kingland happened?”
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“Get him! Behind you!” Jax jabbed at the controls with his thumbs. “Die, wolf beast!”
“I got him!” I punched my controls, as we hunched in front of the TV screen, fighting werewolves on Wolfsbane Vengeance 4 in Jax’s dark basement.
The screen flashed red. Jax dropped his controls, groaning. “We’re never going to
There is one thing about having six ears: sometimes, you overhear comments that weren’t meant for you. Even though I was still snoozing on Hades’ bed, I heard Artemis addressing my master in the living room.
“Do you know what day it is?” I could picture the sly look on Artemis’ face as she posed the question.
One and a half miles. Seven thousand nine hundred and twenty feet.
That alone stood between Reese and the Triple Crown.
And eight other horses, but who cared about them? Not Reese, and certainly not her horse, Paddock Pizzazz, who butted his metal head against the starting gate, impatient. Smoke blew from the metal plates covering his nostrils, filling Reese’s lungs with acrid exhaust.
“Gerald, did you know I was top of my class at law school?”
“Oh yes, sir, you have it on your business card.” The boatman held up Vincent’s card that he’d given him earlier that day. A fit man in his late fifties, Gerald’s bushy red beard was only just starting to betray a few gray whiskers.
Every year, King Hearthsward hosted a grand Midsummer Feast at our royal court. There were games and challenges, boasts and feats of strength, and people traveled from many lands to partake in the celebrations. Even our enemies visited our table, emboldened by the oath of peace during festival-time. If you brought no trouble, none would find you.
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Sketchbook in hand, I leaned over the watchtower’s edge. Dark shadows crept across the hills toward us.
Below me, a dozen farmers added sweeping strokes to the canvas in the center square. Hard to believe these men’s artistic experiences once extended only as far as the furrows their plows carved into the earth.
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