Gramps turned toward the crop of mountains surrounding them. “That’s because we aren’t anywhere near Ashbourne. No.” He spun around, almost losing his balance. Frieda and Maria both reached out to steady him. He smiled solemnly. “I’m okay. I’m okay.” He cleared his throat, touching the head wound again. “No, we must be in the mountains outside of the Land of Terran. Ashbourne is a ways over the other side. No matter. We shall just open another portal; since Maria has dispatched of the Widow for the time being, I feel it will go much smoother than before.”
They gathered in a circle, holding hands. Sherlock clamped onto Maria’s leather jacket again. She glared at him.
What? It tastes good. Real leather. You go, girl!
“You chew a hole in it, you’re buying me a new one, and Dog Prom will definitely be off.”
No worries. Sherlock showed his teeth in what he thought was a smile, but it came off as more of a snarl to Maria.
Gramps closed his eyes and began singing the usual song in a low voice. Maria followed suit. Frieda hummed along.
But nothing happened. No feeling of weightlessness. No traveling at the speed of light. No spider legs, either.
Just nothing.
“Not good,” Gramps said after a moment.
“What?” Maria heard herself ask. Her heart plummeted to her stomach.
“I…can’t open a portal.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I’m more injured than I originally thought.”
They let go of each other’s hands, but Sherlock didn’t unlatch from Maria’s jacket. She was about to shoo him away, but thought that if it kept the dog distracted, what harm was a few holes in an old leather thing she hadn’t worn in years anyway?
“Maybe you should sit down,” Frieda said. “Rest.”
Gramps shook his head. Now Maria knew where the stubbornness in her family apparently came from; it had rubbed off on Sherlock, too.
“It’s not physical,” Gramps answered. “Not so much, at least. It’s magical. The Widow seems to have hit me where it hurts the most, yet I feel no pain.” He drew his wand and aimed it at a lone leaf. He mumbled something under his breath, some kind of spell. A light fizzled at the end of the wood, only glowing faintly. Maria could hardly see it in the glare of the sun.
“No,” Gramps said. “No, this is not good.”
Maria walked over and put her arm around him, hoping to make him feel better. “Can you open a portal, Frieda?”
Freida shifted on her feet nervously. “I’m afraid I’ve never learned that ability. As a Woodland Witch, we channel our magical energy on the Flames of Sight. Rarely do we have reason to leave our part of the forest.”
“Shit,” Maria muttered.
Maria, ask me if I can.
“No.”
C’mon, just ask me. You never know, I might be able to save the day.
“I know you can’t save the day because you’re a dog. Not a wizard or a witch. A talking dog, sure, but I think all dogs can probably talk, I just have the misfortune of hearing you.”
Rude.
Maria shrugged. “Well, can you open a portal?”
Sherlock shook his head. No…no, I can’t.
“Ugh. Why did we bring you?”
“I wish I could hear your conversations,” Gramps said, a smile on his face. That smile told Maria it was all going to be okay. Somehow, some way, it would be. He could always cheer her up with just his smile.
“Trust me,” she said, “you don’t want to hear what we talk about.”
Gramps laughed.
“I can try to open a portal. You say I’m powerful.”
“No, Maria, you must not. It takes an experienced magic user to open a portal of any kind. Proper training is required. When fiddling with portals, you risk ending up in the world in between. We cannot take that risk.”
“What do we do then? We’re just stuck here?” Good thing I didn’t set a second date in stone with Joe. It’d be really bad if I stood him up on accident.
Sherlock was near the tree, sniffing the bark—possibly for Raffins, possibly for Gnomes, or maybe some other magical creature he wanted to make into a new enemy number one—when he turned around and whined.
Stuck here? What about Dog Prom, Maria? Oh, no, I can’t miss it! I missed it last year.
“There’s no— You know what, Sherlock? Don’t worry. It’s all going to work out in the end, right, Gramps?”
Gramps was looking at the mountains. Maria followed his gaze. She saw a narrow passage slicing through them, far in the distance. These mountains stretched so high, they disappeared into the clouds. No way we can make that hike if Gramps is injured. No, Maria, have confidence. You’ve slain an Arachnid, gotten Kaylee, your former high school bully, and her goons to lay off of you…not to mention you’ve had your official first kiss. You can do anything after all that. A mountain hike will be a piece of cake. You’ll carry Gramps, if you have to.
“There,” Gramps said. “That marks our passage. It may be a long and arduous journey, but I expected that in the first place. I just hope we aren’t too late for our Gnome friend.”
“We won’t be,” Maria replied.
“No worries, Ignatius,” Frieda chimed in. “I have not looked in my flames for long, but I can feel that we will be okay.”
Gramps nodded.
“Very well. Onward we go. Our journey awaits!” he said.
Sherlock sat back on his haunches, tilted his head up, and howled to the sky.
Around the time Ignatius came back with Frieda, the dark witch, opening a portal right in the middle of his living room, Salem and Agnes were closing down the ice cream shop while Lois leaned back in her chair, working on her fifth ice cream cone.
It’s okay, I skipped dinner, she thought.
She stood up once she finished. “Let me help, you guys,” she offered.
Agnes waved her away. “No, no, Lois. You are our guest. Can I get you anything else?”
Lois smiled.
