Chase Tinker & The House of Magic (30 page)

Then Persephone leaned toward him and in a
whisper so soft he barely heard her, she said, "Thanks for charging
in."

His face burned like a fiery sunset, but
before he had a chance to respond, the study door burst open and in
marched Grandfather, Aunt Clair and Mrs. Periwinkle. Chase wished
he had Andy's invisibility cap as he watched Grandfather circle the
desk and stop with his back to the room. His stern yet disappointed
face was reflected in the night-darkened window. Chase shifted his
eyes to the floor while his mind whirled with anxiety.

Grandfather turned and gripped the back of
his desk chair, his knuckles white against the black upholstery. He
opened his mouth to speak, but Clair beat him to it. "What do you
think you were doing?" she shouted, stomping back and forth,
highlighting her words with waving arms and jabbing fingers. They
cowered in their chairs as her anger swept over them like a tidal
wave. "Breaking into your grandfather's bedroom to get into those
rooms is one of the
worst
things possible!
Those—powers—are—dangerous! One of you might have been seriously
hurt. Or killed! But did you care? Apparently not. I've never seen
such disgraceful behavior!"

"We're sorry," mumbled Janie. She'd never
seen her mother so angry.

Clair wasn't listening; she was on a roll.
She reminded Chase of his dad when he was mad about something.
Benjamin Tinker would go on and on until the person he was yelling
at was ready to nod off. Chase had the urge to smile, but fought it
because he knew it would most likely make the bad situation they
were in even worse. He chanced a peek at Grandfather. He was
staring at his desk top, an unreadable expression on his face.

"…irresponsible of you. I thought you were
raised smarter than this! What were you thinking? You weren't,
that's just it. It makes me wonder what else you've been up to this
summer." Chase tried his hardest not to look guilty. He hoped the
others wouldn't give anything away either. "I suppose it's all
about having fun, isn't it? Well, kids, no more fun time!
Apparently, you have too much time on your hands. All of you had
better get to bed. You're going to need a lot of sleep for what's
in store for you tomorrow." She paused and took a deep breath.

"We only want to help you fight the Dark
Enemy," said Janie earnestly.

"Your grandfather has everything under
control!" snapped Clair. "You are children. It's our job to protect
you."

"Tell that to the guy at the zoo!" Chase
blurted out. "What about him, huh?"

Clair's eyes met Grandfather's. "What
happened to you was unfortunate," she said. "Now that we're aware
they've become more of a threat, we're doing everything possible to
keep us safe."

"But—" began Chase.

"We're not going to argue about it!" she
snapped. "Dad? Miranda?"

Grandfather gave a curt nod, as did Mrs.
Periwinkle, after one last furious look at her daughter. Again,
Grandfather flicked his hand and the kids vanished.

"And clean your room, Chase Tinker!" yelled
Clair, shaking her fist at the ceiling.

An instant later, Chase and Andy popped into
their bedroom; Andy on his spotless side and Chase on top of his
clutter.

"That went well," said Chase. Not! He kicked
aside a pair of rumpled blue jeans.

"I thought it sucked!" said Andy as he dug in
his drawer for his pajamas. "Aunt Clair sure can scream loud. My
poor ears will be ringing for the rest of the night. Why didn't
Grandfather yell at us?"

"Probably 'cause he couldn't get a word in
over Aunt Clair's yelling," said Chase.

"But he should've said something."

"If you ask me, the look on his face said
plenty," said Chase. "Anyway, I know they think we're too young for
stuff, but I don't. And even if Grandfather is mad at us, I'm glad
we found those rooms. We need to be prepared!"

"Yeah, yeah." Andy yawned and clambered into
bed. "I'm gonna get some sleep. I want to be ready for whatever
Grandfather and Aunt Clair are planning for us." He pulled one of
Chase's dirty socks from under his blankets. "Gross," he grumbled,
tossing it across the room.

While Andy slept, Chase cleaned his side of
the bedroom by flinging everything into a big jumbled pile.
Remembering the treasure chest key, he pulled it from his pocket.
He thought about sticking it under the mattress, except that was
probably too obvious a hiding place. He finally rolled it in a
crumpled t-shirt and tucked it at the back of a drawer along with
his lucky race car and favorite baseball cards.

Climbing into bed at last, he pulled the
blankets over his head and closed his eyes. Hoping that by morning
Grandfather and Aunt Clair would have calmed down a bit, he drifted
off to sleep…

He couldn't breathe. He struggled to escape,
pushing at—something. The darkness and silence weighed down on him
like a heavy blanket. He jerked his head back and forth as the
numbing coldness seeped into his skin, and a frightening shadow
circled him, coming closer and closer. He had to get back to the
light...but finding a way seemed impossible as he sank deeper and
deeper into blackness. "No! No! Help me!" he screamed in his
mind.

"Chase! Come on, wake up!"

Chase heard Andy's voice coming from far
away, as though his brother was calling down a long, narrow tunnel.
Fighting his way toward it, he thought he wasn't going to make it
when suddenly, his eyes flew open and he was able to suck in deep
breaths of cool, fresh air.

"Oh, man! You scared me with all your moaning
and thrashing around," said Andy. "Were you having a
nightmare?"

The bedclothes were twisted around him. Chase
shoved them aside and sat up. Panting madly, he wiped droplets of
sweat from his brow with a shaking hand. "I hope so."

"You hope so? Why would you want to have a
nightmare?"

Chase flopped back onto his pillow, feeling
as if his whole body were made of rubber. "Because, if that was a
premonition…I'm dead."

C
hase was sure his
body would never feel the same. His arms and shoulders ached from
five days of scrubbing and polishing every painting frame in the
house. The worst place had been the Hall of Portraits. He now wore
several black and purple bruises where Aunt Augusta had clobbered
him for trying to wipe a smudge off her nose. Not only that, he'd
spent hours cleaning ashes and soot from every single fireplace. It
was definitely going to be a long time before he caused any more
trouble.

"I can't believe how many tables and chairs
are in this place," grumbled Andy as they munched on tuna fish
sandwiches and celery sticks. Grandfather and Aunt Clair had
insisted that every piece of furniture should shine as if it were
brand new. "Even my blisters have blisters. I thought magical
dusters and brooms did all the cleaning around here."

"Those brooms and mops can vacation for a
year now," said Chase. "This house is spotless."

"At least you didn't have to clean the
bathrooms," muttered Persephone as she yanked the crusts off her
bread. "If I have to scrub one more toilet, I'll puke."

"All that yard work hasn't been a picnic
either," said Janie, before taking a huge bite from her sandwich.
"I'll never get the dirt from under my fingernails," she
mumbled.

"You guys think you've had it bad," added
James, "try polishing all the floors in this freakin' house."

Everyone ignored him. They thought he
deserved the worst punishment of all.

"I've worked my fingers to the bone!" he said
even louder. "This is the worst summer vacation ever! I should've
told them, no way, I ain't doing it. I don't care what—"

Andy flicked his hand at James. The other boy
stopped mid-sentence, his mouth hanging wide open.

"All right, Andy!" said Chase as they
high-fived each other. "Good one."

"I love your power," said Persephone, smiling
at him.

The kitchen door swung open and in walked
Clair. "I have some news for you kids." She paused when she saw
their grinning faces. "What's going on?" Her gaze landed on James.
"Okay, unfreeze your cousin," she said, looking at Andy with her
eyebrows raised.

"Party pooper," he mumbled as the other kids
snickered behind their sandwiches. He waved his hand and James
continued talking.

"—the old lady thinks—" He stopped when he
saw Clair standing in the middle of the kitchen, hands on her hips.
"Uh, hi, Mom. Where did—um. What's up?"

"Old lady? Cute, James," she said, scowling.
"Anyway, you kids have worked hard this week and we hope you've
learned a good lesson. So, your grandfather, Miranda and I have
decided to give you the rest of the day off as your reward. You had
better stay out of trouble, though, or you'll be sorry." She
snatched a sandwich off the plate. "This house has a lot of gutters
and windows that could use some cleaning," she added before
disappearing out the door.

"Thank goodness!" exclaimed Janie. "I need to
soak in a bubble bath for a week to get rid of all the dirt
embedded in my skin."

"I'd like to do a little fishing," said
James. "Care to join me, Chase?"

Chase dropped his sandwich. "
You
want
to go fishing with
me
?"

"Sure, it'll be fun."

"I've never been," Chase said, glancing out
the window. "Besides, it's cloudy outside."

"It's the best time to go. That way the fish
can't see our shadows in the water," said James. "Come on. It's
relaxing. Grandfather said he has some poles stashed in the broom
closet here in the kitchen and we can take that motorboat."

Chase narrowed his eyes at his cousin, not
sure if he was up to something. But it was just fishing, wasn't it?
How much trouble could they get into? If James tried anything, he'd
be ready. And, he was interested in learning to fish. Aunt Clair
had said his dad liked to do it.

"Okay, sure, I'll go with you, James. Anybody
else want to come along?"

Andy and Persephone glanced at each other.
"No!" they exclaimed together.

"We—uh—got other things to do," said
Persephone. "So go. Have fun. And, Chase, be sure to watch out for
sharks. If you know what I mean."

Chase frowned at her. Sharks? In Puget Sound?
Now, that was a new one to him.

Half an hour later, with his sunglasses
perched on his nose and a long fishing pole dangling over his
shoulder, he followed James down to the beach. It felt great to be
outside in the fresh air, away from all those musty portraits
staring down their noses at him like he was some sort of slimy
toadstool growing on the carpet.

The motorboat sat where the kids had left it
on the afternoon Clair arrived. Chase had avoided it ever since.
James tossed the bait, a cooler filled with snacks and drinks and
his pole into the boat. He turned to Chase. "Come on. What's the
hold up?"

Chase shook his head to clear it of the
memory of the disappointment he'd felt that afternoon when he'd
found only his dad's soggy coat lying in the bottom of the boat.
Sometimes it was way too difficult not to think about the stuff he
really didn't want to think about these days.

Shoving the craft into the water, the boys
hopped into it. James insisted on steering. He gave several long,
sharp tugs to the motor's starter cord. The engine sputtered for a
moment, then roared to life as gray exhaust smoke drifted from the
back of it. He maneuvered carefully past a sandbar and chugged out
of the shallows. Soon they were tearing across the open water, the
wind blowing through their hair.

Chase, his back to the front of the boat,
watched the trail of white water left behind them as they zoomed
past a freight-laden barge and a ferry boat chugging across the
Sound. He grabbed onto the side as they bumped across another
boat's wake.

"Where are we going?" he shouted over the
loud engine noise, the wind whipping his words away.

"I'm looking for a good place!" yelled James
as he steered past a slow-moving sailboat and waved to the people
on board.

Chase wasn't sure how long they traveled
before James slowed down and came to a stop, shutting off the
engine. It was blissfully quiet. The boat bobbed in the deep,
blue-green water, small waves slapping against its sides.

Chase gulped and squinted all around. From
his viewpoint, the rolling slices of land in the distance were much
too far away. "Uh, are you sure this is a good spot? We're out in
the middle of nowhere."

"It'll do." James picked up his pole, opened
the bait can and pulled out a hunk of shrimp. He stuck the shrimp
on the end of the sharp hook and swung it into the water. Popping
open a soda can, he leaned back and closed his eyes.

Trying to act as cool as his cousin, Chase
added some shrimp to his hook and dangled his pole off the opposite
side. "So, how long does this usually take?"

James shrugged. "Might be right away, might
be hours and hours."

Great,
thought Chase as he propped his
arms on his knees,
hours and hours
. He stared at the bottom
of the boat. The words '
Now I see it
' ran through his mind
and instantly he was able to see through the wood and into the
water. Several fish swam by, but nothing big enough for dinner. He
took a deep breath of warm, salty air. Actually, this was rather
relaxing.

"Thank God we're done with all that crappy
housework," said James as he sipped his soda pop. "That
sucked."

"Yeah," said Chase. "I guess we deserved it,
though."

"No way. We have every right to know about
those rooms."

"Maybe." The boat rocked gently as Chase
gazed across the water. A thin mist drifted above the surface,
while the far-off roar of another motorboat reached his ears.