Bumblestook: Book 1, The Accidental Wizard (28 page)

“That’s because you used
discretion
, remember?” Tom reminded his pupil.

Yap brightened up. “D’ya think it’s time to use dishcreshun again?” he asked his mentor.

“Definitely,” Tom said firmly. “Your master asked you a question, straight out. You’re beholden to answer, without a doubt.”

Yap’s bottom lip quivered, as he looked at Farley with soulful eyes that begged forgiveness. Reaching up, he parted the long fur of his ruff, to reveal the three crystal gems (red, green and purple) set into his gold, leather collar. All three glowed with a soft pulsating light.

“Hey, your collar’s all lit up!” Farley said. “I’ve never seen it do
that
before.”

“Itsa sig-a-nal,” Yap explained.

“Really? A signal to who?” his master asked.

“To Barfoleumous, so’s he can see n’ hear whatchur doin’.”

Farley’s eyes and mouth popped open for a moment. Smiling self-consciously, he waved at the glowing gems. “Hey, Mr. Bartholeumous! Learn any new magic tricks lately?

Fiona strode in front of him, placing herself between the boy and the Gr-r-rog

“Hand it over,” she demanded, thrusting her hand out in front of Yap’s nose.

Yap scrambled backwards, his furry little hands going instinctively to his collar. “B-b-but, my Mission Orders…” he sputtered.

Fiona whirled about to speak to Farley, still kneeling on the floor behind her. “
You
tell him. You’re his master so he’s got to listen to you. You heard Tom—if my uncle finds out where we are, he’ll take us right back home.”

Farley looked around her. “Sorry, Yap. It’s just till we find Mom and Dad. After that, you can have it back, I promise.”

Reluctantly, Yap unbuckled the collar, placing it hesitantly on Fiona’s open palm.

Snatching it up, Fiona quickly thrust it deep within her backpack. Gemstones pulsating with soft light, the collar tumbled up against the teardrop crystal, whereupon it, too, began to glow.

Wide brush strokes of dusty rose, pale turquoise and dusky violet swept across the vast canvas of evening sky above the garden. Within its boundaries, the amber-glass lanterns radiated soft auras of warm, golden light, while a chorus of crickets heralded the day’s end. Unfortunately, the couple in the garden were blind to its beauty.

Livie stood, still as a statue, in front of an ancient California Oak in a far corner of the garden. Her face looked to be carved of white marble, but beneath the stony exterior a battle raged, as fear, anger and despair vied for dominance. Only her eyes reflected the silent war, waged within. They blazed with an intensity that threatened to bore straight through the tree’s thick trunk.

Behind her, Lance paced up and down the cobblestone path; head bowed, eyes focused on the smooth, flat stones as they slid beneath his feet.

Suddenly, the tree’s long, twisting limbs bowed stiffly. Scores of autumn leaves were snatched from their tenuous hold, as a strange, whistling wind sprang up out of nowhere, buffeting them about. Livie looked up with a sudden, sharp intake of breath and two spots of color returned to her cheeks. Lance spun about; quickly jogging back to stand by her side.

Together, they watched as the falling leaves were drawn into the orbit of a dark, swirling whirl of wind. Touching down, it ceased to revolve; resolving into a figure of a man, cloaked head to toe in dark purple velvet. Clutched in one hand was a gnarled staff of aged walnut, its knobbed top carved into a cage of intertwining vines. Cradled within, was a large amethyst crystal; softly glowing.

“I came as soon as I heard,” Bartholeumous said, stepping forward as the wind died down.

“It’s been over an hour,” Livie managed, between clenched teeth. “They could be anywhere by now!” Her nails left marks on her upper arms as she strove for control.

“I was not at home when your call came in,” Bartholeumous explained calmly. “Fortunately, my assistant, Fancifoot, regularly checks my messages. He recognized the urgency, and contacted me. I could have arrived sooner, were there an established Doorway on your property…”

Lance shook his head, regretfully. “We should have done it years ago, but…”

“You wanted your privacy. Tis a common concern. Especially in a neighborhood that is so utterly
Human
.”

“We had our reasons,” Lance replied, a bit defensively. “At the time we thought it was for the best.”

Livie clutched her husband’s arm. “None of that matters now! We need to concentrate on finding the children!”

“Yes, and towards that end…” Bartholeumous leaned his staff against the side of the tree. Reaching into one of the many pockets (hidden in the folds of his cloak) he brought forth a sparkling, teardrop crystal dangling from a golden cord. He held it up, so that its myriad facets caught the last rays of the lingering sun; casting flickering beams of rainbow light across his face.

“From one perfect crystal, two gems were cut. One, I hold here in my hand. The other, its mate, I gave to Fiona. If, as I suspect, your daughter is currently in possession of hers, this one will lead us to her.” He grasped the end of the dangling crystal between thumb and forefinger, giving it a twist that sent it spinning. As the beams of light moved across the broad planes of his face, he intoned, “No place too far, no distance too great. Like calls to like, and mate—to mate.”

Livie’s eyes blazed with hope as they tracked the mesmerizing motion. Suddenly, a powerful blast of bright, white light streamed forth from every facet of the crystal, as if an explosion had occurred within its prism walls! She cried out, turning away and stumbling into Lance, whereupon they both fell to their knees on the cobblestone path!

Bartholeumous threw up a hand to shield his eyes, as he tossed the crystal aside. Flying through the air like a shooting star, it landed in an azalea plant. The light blazed forth, as if from a burning bush.

“Stay back!” Bartholeumous shouted, grasping a fold of his cloak in one hand and bringing it up to shield his face. Reaching out with his other hand, he silently summoned his staff, which responded by flying directly into his grasp.

Advancing slowly toward the filtered light, he arrived at the bush. Grasping the staff at its midpoint, he extended the glowing amethyst over the blazing plant.

“Like to like, absorb the light!” Bartholeumous bellowed.

The light from the amethyst grew brighter, as the glow from the bush diminished and died out. Bartholeumous plucked the crystal teardrop from the branches and tucked it safely away into a pocket.

“Olivia! Lance! Are you alright?” he called out, striding toward the fallen pair.

“
Alright? Alright?
No, I am
not
alright!” Livie replied, her voice crackling with fear and anger. “My daughter is missing and I’m sitting on the ground, seeing nothing but spots!”

“See spots. See spots run,” Lance (still a bit dazed) chimed in.

“It will pass quickly,” Bartholeumous assured them.

“What happened?” Lance asked, rubbing his eyes and peering in the direction of the Wizard’s voice. “What does it mean?”

Bartholeumous leaned upon his staff and gazed blearily about. “Apparently something is interfering with the picture. To hazard a guess, I would say that Fiona’s crystal has come up against another and is reflecting its light.”

“Great,” Livie remarked, having recovered her eyesight enough to get to her feet and glare balefully at the Wizard.

Lance stood as well, fastidiously brushing the dirt from his trousers. “But where would she have gotten another crystal?”

“That is an interesting question. Where indeed…” the Wizard pondered, tugging at his beard.

“Who cares! The crystal isn’t working—end of story! What else do you have up your sleeve?” Livie snapped.

“Many things, but none applicable to the current situation. I would, however, like to question the Bungaree.”

Lance ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “I’ve got a few questions for him myself. He’s supposed to be looking out for Fiona. Unfortunately, he seems to have disappeared.”

“On the contrary, I find that
most
fortunate. Undoubtedly, he followed the children. I cannot think of a better traveling companion. There are few beings more cunning and resourceful than a Bungaree. Well then, since questioning
that
particular creature is out—do you happen to know the whereabouts of Bumblestook’s pet, the little dog, Yap?”

“You mean the Gr-r-rog?” Livie asked cynically.

“Yes, of course. Fetch him, please.”

Livie threw up her hands. “Gladly! Except
he
seems to have disappeared as well!”

“Ah-h-h. That solves the mystery of the other crystal.” Bartholeumous said. “Yap’s collar contains three small gems, to record Bumblestook’s movements. The information is forwarded to a crystal in my library and subsequently stored on my computer.”

Livie’s face lit up. “Then all we have to do is access it!”

Bartholeumous frowned and tugged at his beard. “Possibly, but it appears that your clever daughter has discovered Yap’s secret and confiscated the collar. Otherwise, we would not have been subjected to that blinding light. Of course, it
is
possible that the Gr-r-r-og was able to send something useful
before
the collar was taken…”

“Well, what are you waiting for? Surely you can access your messages from here, the way the Humans do with those annoying little phones.” Livie persisted.

“Of course,” Bartholeumous replied, somewhat huffily. “Human technology, while useful, cannot compare to the proper use of magic.”

Reaching into the folds of his cloak, he produced a smooth, crystal sphere, about the size of a baseball. Leaning the staff back up against the side of the tree, he cradled the sphere in the palm of one hand, while waving the other over and around it. As the crystal ball became clouded with amethyst smoke, he held it out at arm’s length, balanced on the tips of his fingers.

“Fancifoot! Respond, Fancifoot!” Bartholeumous bellowed, causing Lance and Olivia to jump. “Sorry,” he said in an aside. “My assistant is a little hard of hearing.”

Livie stepped closer, watching as the smoke in the ball cleared. A tiny mouse-like creature appeared, peering out expectantly, one little paw poised over several keys. Its whiskers twitched and its mouth moved as it spoke, but all that could be heard were tiny squeaks.

“Send all messages pertaining to Bumblestook immediately!” Bartholeumous boomed.

Livie snorted in disgust, as Lance winced and covered his ears. “F.Y.I., it’s a Pipsqueak,” she said. “See those big ears? It’s got superior hearing. It’s
we
that can’t hear
him
!”

The wee creature could be seen muttering to himself, as he energetically tapped away at the keyboard. With an emphatic stab at one final key, he disappeared as the crystal ball once again filled with purple smoke.

Suddenly, the sphere emitted a strident, buzzing sound and began spitting out showers of bright yellow sparks! The Wizard dropped it like a hot potato. It bounced once and rolled several feet, as the vile smell of an electrical fire filled the air. With a final sputter and spit, it came to a halt as the purple smoke within began to clear. Bartholeumous approached cautiously and stood, looking down at the crystal ball, just as a message appeared.

“Unknown Error!” he sputtered in disbelief. “
Un
believable! Shutting down! How can it be shutting down?”

“Perhaps, you made an error,” Livie offered, peering over his shoulder.

“I most certainly did not!” Eyes narrowing, the Wizard picked up the crystal ball, glaring at the offensive message until it faded away. “This is not the first time this has happened. In fact, I have reason to believe it is the result of a conspiracy to deny me vital information of a most specific nature.”

“Who would dare—” Lance began.

“The Earthbound!” Bartholeumous answered, scowling furiously as he thrust the sphere back into a pocket.

“What? Who?” asked the Faires.

“A powerful and formidable earthly force, which, until recently, has remained unknown.”

“But, why would these–these ‘Earthbound’ try to prevent you from finding Fiona?” Lance asked.

The Wizard shook his head. “It is not Fiona they seek to shield. It is the boy, Bumblestook.”

“Ar-r-gh! Bumblestook! Bumblestook!” Livie exploded, stomping her foot. “I wish I’d never heard that name! How can one silly little Human boy cause so much trouble? Surely, he is cursed!” Slender locks of her fine, white-gold hair rose, framing her pale face like a halo of snakes, coiled to strike.

“An interesting theory…” Bartholeumous peered at her intently from beneath his bushy brows. “Perhaps you have some idea as to how young Bumblestook came to be the victim of such a curse.”

“How should
I
know?” Livie’s serpent locks fell flat, as she shot the Wizard a startled look.

Bartholeumous regarded her evenly, then turned away abruptly; striding toward the center of the garden.

“Come!” he commanded imperiously, without so much as a backward glance at the anxious couple.

With a start, they followed him, instinctively drawing close together and clasping hands.

Bartholeumous stood waiting at the garden fountain, his back turned toward the approaching couple. They were forced to circle round; facing him across the basin, in a disturbing re-enactment of past events. The Wizard stared down into the fountain, as if seeking an answer in the clear, bubbling water.

“I remember Fiona’s Naming Ceremony as if it were yesterday,” he said in a bemused tone of voice. “There were many things that struck me as decidedly odd. A simple ceremony, really. Performed countless times with countless newborns. But this one was different…”

Slowly, deliberately, he raised his eyes to look into Lance and Livie’s faces; watching as their eyes darted away, like small frightened fish, surprised by the sudden movement of something very large, rising from the depths.

“W-well, every ceremony’s bound to be
some
what different—j-just as every
child
is different,” Lance stammered. “You know, like snowflakes—no two alike!”