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"Did you hit something?"
I asked.
"I don't think so. The
car just died."
I restrained myself from
making a remark about how he should have bought American, and instead
looked out the window to see where we were and what was going on. What I
saw was unsettling, to say the least.
"Um, Toto. I don't think
we're in Kansas anymore," I said softly.
We were surrounded by a
menagerie of magical creatures straight out of some of my more colorful
nightmares. They weren't the relatively friendly types who worked at MSI.
These were the kind of beasties who teamed up with the wicked witch in
Disney cartoons. My old buddy Mr. Bones was there, freed from the NO
PARKING sign where Owen has stuck him Monday morning.
"Whoa," Ethan said. "Now
what? Magic shouldn't work on us, right?"
"Magic doesn't work on
us, but they can harm us physically." I noticed a fireball forming in
Mr. Bones's hand. "And your car isn't immune to magic. That doesn't rub
off from the driver. If they do something to the car, we're in trouble."
He hit the button to
unlock the doors and said, "Jump!"
Fortunately for Ethan's
insurance company, the skeletal creature with the fireball held back
once we were outside the car. It looked like they had us right where
they wanted us. |
