They went down the rest of the stairs without passing anyone else, thankfully. Maria was glad, because she didn’t want Sherlock to urinate on an Elf by accident, and get their membership to the wonderful invisible castle revoked, too. She quite liked the castle.
“Through the doors,” Gramps said.
They traveled the same field from before until they were well away from the castle. Sherlock finished his bathroom duties, and Gramps handed Maria her sword back.
“Now we can discuss our plans,” Gramps said.
Chapter Seven
Ignatius checked his wristwatch as Maria and Sherlock waited patiently for their discussion to begin. The watch was synchronized to Earth and Oriceran time—a sort of worlds clock. Not much time had passed since they had portaled to the very spot they stood, but one glance at Maria, and Ignatius knew she would not last much longer. She may have her mother’s blood coursing through her, she may be brave and valiant and all things that make up an honorable warrior, but she was exhausted beyond belief. The purple rings under her eyes made her look like she’d been punched, she was constantly yawning, and her posture had become stooped.
She is only nineteen, Ignatius. Hardly an adult. Two days ago, her biggest concerns involved popcorn; now the fate of an entire world rests on her shoulders. My posture would be stooped, too.
“Gramps?”
He started.
“Oh, sorry, sorry, just trying to get my thoughts in order. It’s been a rough couple of days, hasn’t it?”
“You’re telling me,” Maria answered, yawning again. Sherlock mimicked her, though Ignatius thought it was purely out of infatuation, not lethargy. Ever since he had brought Sherlock home over a decade ago, Maria and he had been inseparable. The Bloodhound had proven his worth with his ability to sniff out nearly anything—dark magic, included—but it was the bond between his granddaughter and the dog that really made Ignatius feel like he had chosen the right puppy. Sure, he could be quite ornery at times, digging in the trashcan, bringing home dead animals as presents, and, as of late, urinating on Gnomes, but none of that bothered Ignatius, because Sherlock was family.
“Oh, Grandfatherrrrrr…”
This time, Ignatius didn’t startle. He just turned to Maria and smiled softly.
“The plans?” Maria asked again. She then looked down at Sherlock and chuckled. The dog must’ve made a snide comment—turned out he was quite good at that.
“The plans are simple, my dear,” Ignatius said, turning a watchful eye on Sherlock, who did not shrink beneath Ignatius’s gaze. “You shall go on home, and I will visit Ves Ielan in search of the Gnome Gelbus.”
Maria’s forehead wrinkled, her mouth frowned. “What!? No way. This isn’t your quest. It’s our quest.”
“Maria, dear, as powerful as you’ve become, I don’t believe you are ready for the horrors of Ves Ielan just yet. You need rest. Besides, have you forgotten about the nice gentlemen who sought you out at Salem’s with a bouquet of roses already? He will be waiting for you soon enough.”
“But—” Maria protested, and Ignatius cut her off.
Ah, she is so much like my dear Zimmy.
“No buts, Maria. A shared quest such as ours requires many moving parts. Everyone must pull their own weight.
Maria was shaking her head. “No, Gramps, I can’t.”
“You must and you will. I, as leader of this quest, order you.” He raised his voice to a steady boom. Those back at the invisible Elven castle surely heard the drifting echoes of his words.
“Why? I’m okay, I promise! I can fend for myself.” Maria’s hands shook, but her face was fearful.
She is scared, worried because she cares about you—an old wizard from a forgotten village. It is more than you deserve, Ignatius.
“You may very well have to fend for yourself before our journey is over, but until then, go back home to Earth and rest. Check on Tabitha. Rest some more. And enjoy your date with that nice young man. Be normal while you still can, Maria.”
“I’m not normal. I never was. Normal is boring.”
Ignatius couldn’t help himself. He chuckled.
“You are right about that, but I don’t mean normal in the same sense that you do. There is Earth normal, where you work a nine-to-five with health insurance, dental insurance, and a 401k, and then there’s normal-normal, as in you don’t communicate with spirits trapped in the world between or Bloodhounds, and lastly, there is nineteen-year-old normal, where you go on dates and laugh with your friends and enjoy your life. I want that for you, Maria. I want you to not fear or worry. I want you to be nineteen-year-old normal.”
Maria smiled, but there was still rebellion in her eyes; eyes that were the same shade as her mother’s.
Zimmy, I’ve lost you already; I’m so sorry, but I cannot lose another, he thought.
The wind blew. It had a sharpness to it that reminded him of the beginning of an Ohio winter.
“Go, Maria. I will be back with the information and when I have it, I will need you to save the village. I will need you for the most important part, my dear. You are not safe here with the music box. There are too many after you.”
“But—”
Sherlock suddenly barked. Maria leaned down to talk to him.
“You think so?” she asked.
Sherlock nodded. That was easy enough to understand.
“Fine,” Maria said, looking back to Ignatius. “I’ll go back…for now. But if you die, I’m gonna kill you!”
Ignatius chuckled again. “You have your mother’s sense of humor.”
Maria said nothing. She looked longingly up to the rising sun and purplish sky.
Ignatius raised his hand and held it out to her. Glaring at it, she sighed, but she finally took it. Then each of them took one of Sherlock’s paws as he sat up on his hind legs, his droopy eyes watchful. The circle was closed, and the singing began.
Not long after, a portal was opened, and Ignatius was looking into the living room of his house, where his comfy recliner sat in front of his television, its screen dark and devoid of The
