Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 112089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
Sebastian wasn’t sure who started screaming first, him or Nessa. They both worked at the spell, hard to do when they were terrified and sprinting. The sound of metal sliding against metal drew too close, too quickly. At this rate, they’d lose a leg!
“Cast the spell,” he said, already out of breath. “Cast the spell!”
She did as instructed. He did the same. But their work wasn’t perfect.
One of the little garden demons slammed into the magic. It bounced off…and then started to cackle as it pivoted and moved around the spell.
“Crap, I didn’t think about them going around it,” he said. “Why didn’t I think about them going around?”
“Probably because you thought the blasted thing would work— Ow!”
“Help is on the way!” they heard. It sounded like Edgar.
It was not reassuring.
Nessa staggered and fell into Sebastian, who turned and grabbed her, hustling her along. They were only a handful of steps from the sidewalk that marked the end of Ivy House property. Her leg was bleeding, he noticed, and then a sharp pain grazed his thigh. One of the little devils had thrown a lawn dart at him.
“Hurry!” he urged, working that spell again, and this time, getting it mostly right.
A gnome hit it full on. Sparks blasted out around it, and then the horrible creature jetted backward with a cute little squeal that somehow rendered it more terrifying.
A swarm of bugs materialized into Edgar. “I’ll distract them. Get to safety!”
“No, Edgar, come with us. We can make it,” Nessa said, limping toward the sidewalk and yanking Sebastian with her. “We have a spell up. It’ll hold.”
Another gnome hit the barrier and went flying with a little eeeeeeee.
“Nessa—” Sebastian tried to struggle out of her grasp. “Let go. We can’t just leave Edgar to fend for himself.”
“Oh, it’s okay— Ow!” Edgar kicked at a gnome that had just stabbed him in the leg with a garden fork. “They never cut anything off. I just have to get them to the weaponized flowers. I have two that can scratch them up. Don’t tell Jessie. I was supposed to wait for the basajaun to make more of them, but these gnomes are really creating a problem. I needed a little backup. The temptation was just too much. Here we go.”
He started running, his distinct lope with high knees and hands out in front. He ran to the side, drawing half of the gnomes with him, and the others eyed the barrier warily as Sebastian and Nessa made it to the sidewalk.
Breathing heavily, they watched the leftover gnomes staring back at them. One put a stubby finger to the side of its throat and dragged it across.
“This house is so messed up,” Nessa whispered. “So messed up.”
“Do you think we should go save Edgar?”
She stared at nothing for a moment. “I have no idea how we could.”
She had a point. Plus, he had a suspicion the gnomes who’d stayed behind were ready in case they tried.
“Well…he did say they never cut anything off— Oh, look.” He pointed at the still-open door. Dolls tottered out with knives and swords, and one had a miniature machete. “How cute—look at its little doll-sized weapon.”
“Why are the dolls so cute and those gnomes so terrible?”
“It’s one of life’s great mysteries.”
The dolls ran down the stairs. Some split to the right, hopefully going to help Edgar, and some ran directly at the gnomes waiting just behind the spell’s barrier. In a moment, the two factions were fighting, trying to stab or cut. They all took off around the house.
“Come on, the dolls will save Edgar.” Nessa plucked at Sebastian’s shirt to get him walking. “Just to circle back…”
She paused for a beat as they put distance between themselves and the house. She must’ve known he’d had to drop the privacy spell when trying to erect the other.
“We’re going to have to be careful about Niamh,” she whispered. “We can’t have her knowing…everything.”
Unease settled in his gut. He looked away to the side as he sent out magic to assess danger. “I know.”
“You need to only talk to the house when it is something she—it?—can help with. Like now.”
He took a deep breath, feeling something constrict within him. Regret.
“I know,” he said again, and thankfully, she let the matter drop.
SEVENTEEN
Nervousness ate through my middle as we pulled into the motel parking lot. The tiny town we’d elected to stay in sat at the edge of a natural forest preserve near California’s coast. Hiking trails crisscrossed the outskirts of it, open to people who wanted to marvel at some of the oldest and tallest trees in the world. Beyond that, deep in the thick of the preserve, lived the basajaun’s family.
We’d just let the basajaun off at the trail we’d use tomorrow. He would go now to meet them and prepare them for our arrival the following day.