“By the power of the lamp held in your hand, your smallest wish is my command.”
A low, prolonged squeal escaped Alan’s wide smile. His eyes ping-ponged between the lamp he held and the ethereal figure before him.
“Though your wishes cannot exceed three, there are no bounds for what they may be.”
What is it about living teenagers that makes breaking into places after hours so appealing to them? I mean, look at me. I get rules. Don’t be seen, don’t be heard, don’t make mist unless the forecast calls for it. And curfew? I follow curfew every night. I’m only allowed out after dark, anyway.
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“Ice cream, seriously?”
Andrew exhaled slowly as Lauren started again.
“You’re an adult now. All you do is want to play your guitar or complain about your job or do stupid things like eat ice cream.”
On their way to shop some more, they stood on the street corner, and waited for the light to turn. Traffic was up from usual on a Saturday and the crowd already had his wife on edge.
Ivy had zero misgivings about bringing her armadillo spelunking with us. Gustave was well-mannered and well-bred. He’d accompanied Ivy to prestigious events, such as opera premiers, royal balls, and lectures on the nature of truth by eminent philosophers. His track record was spotless.
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When the stranger reached fifteen paces, Xildar called, “Friend or foe?”
“Neither.” The voice peaked like an unripened boy. A fabric hat framed most of his face—a face about eighteen years in the making. His teeth were exceptionally white. His leather and linen clothing might’ve been made by the seamstress who’d fashioned Xildar’s attire.
The book was lost. Of that, I had no doubt.
The problem was that it couldn’t remain lost. My life, as I knew it, as I longed for it to be, would not continue without the words my mother had left me.
“It’ll be worth it. You’ll see.”
My brother, the perpetual optimist. “You’re not the one puking over the side. Thanks to me, even the dragon probably wants this flight to be over.”
Tad’s chuckle was soft, but I could still hear it over the constant rush of air and the beat of the massive wings.
I creep down the ancient stone hallway, barely containing my anticipation. Months of tracking down clues, solving riddles and dodging hamster attacks are finally bearing fruit. Beyond the door at the end of the hallway lies the Donut of Time, last breakfast artifact I must recover before I can challenge the Hamsters of Doom and stop them from destroying humanity.
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Je’hir blinked and blinked again, tears leaking out the sides of his eyes, past the tops of his ears, down the sides of his head. Sky, turquoise with wispy fluffs of pink clouds filled his vision. Directly above him, however, a wavering black dot broke the serene beauty.
“No, no, no,” he moaned, punching the ground beneath his fists and wishing the tangible evidence of his father’s treachery would just disappear.
If I walked away from this mission having learned only one thing, it would be that millennia of shifting sand dunes were no match for a stubbornly brilliant paranormal archivist. Unfortunately, the odds of me actually walking away were decreasing every second.
“Hey, Miriam, I could use some help over here!” I shouted as I deflected an obsidian sickle.
“This evening has to be perfect.” Cecilia straightened Saegan’s bow tie with shaking hands. “We must impress the Minderas so they’ll invest in Master Gador’s business.” And she needed to impress Mastor Gador with her first dinner as his new housekeeper.
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The tiny collar weighed heavy in my hand. I’d always know Victor was special, the kind of kitten who had magic hidden deep inside. Despite his belief that he could fly, he had taken one too many risks.
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