The Magic Collector

by Clayton Wood

  “Then why come here?” Gideon inquired. “So the Collector can’t kill you?”

  “No,” Piper retorted. “I came here for you.”’

  Gideon’s eyebrows rose, and he glanced at Grandpa, then back at Piper.

  “For me?”

  “That’s right,” Piper confirmed. “And Thaddeus.”

  “Kendra tried to kill us,” Gideon reminded him. “And I spent ten years trying to stop you from getting to Thaddeus and Bella. If you think we’re going to help you after everything you two did, you’re insane.”

  “You’re the only men I know that can take on the Collector and win,” Piper insisted. “And if you agree to help me, I can offer you something that no one else can.”

  “What’s that?” Grandpa inquired.

  “My services as an Actor,” Piper replied. “And the exact location of the Collector.”

  * * *

  Bella, Gideon, and Grandpa sat across from Piper at a table in the Painted Feast, Bella’s favorite restaurant in downtown Havenwood. Myko sat at Bella’s feet, gnawing at a bone the chef had been kind enough to paint the wolf. Piper had convinced them to hear him out, although it was clear that no one was particularly pleased at the prospect.

  “So you’re saying there’s a series of underground tunnels that connect different places in the world together?” Grandpa inquired, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Fascinating!”

  “The Collector uses them to transport valuables and high-ranking personnel,” Piper explained. “I’m the first high-ranking artist to defect…without being killed first, that is.”

  “So where does the Collector live?” Gideon inquired.

  “In a castle on top of Mount Inversus,” Piper answered.

  “Never heard of it,” Gideon admitted.

  “It’s technically two mountains,” Piper explained. “There’s an upside-down castle on top of the first one, and an upside-down mountain on top of that.”

  “An upside-down mountain?” Gideon exclaimed, his eyebrows going up. He glanced at Grandpa, who frowned.

  “I seem to recall having heard something about a place like that,” he said. “A long, long time ago. But it must be very far away for me to have never been there.”

  Bella supposed this made sense. Grandpa would have had the opportunity to travel quite a bit in the last nine hundred years or so.

  “I’m sure it is,” Piper agreed. “The Underground is the only way I know to get there.”

  “And how do we access this Underground?” Gideon pressed. Piper leaned his elbows on the table, steepling his fingers.

  “I can show you,” he answered. “But you have to promise to help me get Kendra back.”

  “It’s unlikely she’s alive,” Grandpa warned…and grunted as Gideon elbowed him in the side.

  “I have to try,” Piper insisted. “And either way, I’m going to get the Collector back for what he did to her…and what he tried to do to me. That’s what you want, right? To stop the Collector?”

  “We do,” Gideon agreed.

  “Then I’m the best chance you’ve got,” Piper stated, folding his arms over his chest. “What’dya say?”

  Bella glanced at Gideon, who glanced at Grandpa. Grandpa cleared his throat.

  “I say we’ll think about it,” he decided. Piper nodded.

  “Fair enough,” he replied. The Actor stood then, pushing his chair in. “I’ll be around until you make your decision,” he informed them. “Don’t wait too long,” he warned. “The Collector is only going to get stronger the longer you wait.”

  “We’ll make our decision as soon as we can,” Grandpa promised, standing as well. This cued everyone else to stand, including Myko, who kept his bone firmly between his jaws. “Until next time, Piper.”

  They left then, and Bella, Gideon, and Grandpa walked back up Dragon’s Peak to the waterfall, Myko trotting at Bella’s side. They entered the mouth of the Water Dragon, returning to Mom’s estate. Once inside, everyone went to the nearest living room, plopping themselves on the couch Grandpa had grown fond of taking naps on. Both Grandpa and Gideon looked troubled.

  “What do you think?” Gideon inquired, eyeing Grandpa. Grandpa sighed, slumping into the couch cushions.

  “I think he’s telling the truth.”

  “It could be a trap,” Gideon warned. “A way to lure us out of Havenwood so the Collector can get to us.”

  “True,” Grandpa conceded. “That would be the worst-case scenario. So that’s what we have to prepare for.”

  “How?”

  “By getting my book to the Twin Spires,” Grandpa answered. “If we can get enough people to read it, we’ll have more than enough manpower to deal with Piper and any force the Collector would throw at us.”

  “What exactly is in that book?” Gideon pressed. Grandpa glared at him.

  “And spoil the sequel? Never!”

  Gideon sighed, rubbing his face with his hands.

  “All right,” he decided. “So you’re saying we should let Piper help us, but expect him to double-cross us.”

  “Naturally,” Grandpa agreed. “Unless you see another way.”

  “Not really,” Gideon admitted. “Very well. So the plan is to finish your book, then have me bring it to the Twin Spires. Then take the Underground to the Collector’s castle to take him out once and for all.”

  “Easy-peasy,” Grandpa concluded. Gideon hardly looked convinced, but he nodded.

  “Very well. When will you have the book finished?”

  “Give me a few more days,” Grandpa replied. “It’ll be a bit rough, but it’ll do the trick.”

  Chapter 34

  Grandpa was as good as his word.

  He worked furiously night and day until he was finally finished. That done, he handed the book to Gideon, who said his goodbyes to Grandpa and Bella before leaving. Myko did as well, giving Bella enough wolf-kisses to last a lifetime, and even giving Grandpa one or two. Then they waved goodbye, following the path down to the base of Dragon’s Peak and vanishing into the mushroom forest beyond.

  Then it was back to just Grandpa and Bella, as it’d always been.

  And as it’d been for the few weeks before coming to this world, Bella found herself spending much of her day painting while Grandpa wrote. To her relief, he did venture out into the town daily, meeting with his fellow Writers and the other artists. Bella got to tag along when she wanted to, and she found meeting new people to be refreshing. There was no more fear of others, no rush to get home. No secret password just to get inside her own room.

  For the first time in a long time, Bella felt…normal. As normal as a girl like her could feel, that was.

  And Grandpa…well, he filled out quite rapidly, eating like a man starved half to death, which Bella supposed he had been. He too seemed at peace, as content as she’d ever seen him. Seeing him this content made her realize that he’d been terribly depressed, a fact that, in retrospect, should have been obvious. Every night, as was their ritual, he told her a bedtime story…after she made them a home-cooked dinner.

  “I still don’t get why you want me to cook,” Bella said as she tossed some chicken onto a frying pan. Grandpa stood beside her, cutting up a few bell-peppers. She’d gotten the ingredients from her mother’s pantry, which was a big room containing tons of paintings of various food items. The food came out fresh every time.

  “What do you mean?” Grandpa inquired, handing her some peppers, which she tossed into the pan with a sizzle.

  “The food at the restaurants is better,” she explained.

  “Hmm, maybe it tastes better,” he conceded. “But that’s not why we have meals, Bella.”

  Bella frowned, turning to him and putting a hand on her hip.

  “Going to have to explain that,” she stated.

  “Well, people eat food to sate their hunger,” Grandpa replied. “But they eat meals for the story.”

  Bella stared at him.

  “The story?” she asked.
“You’re saying meals have a story?”

  “Oh yes,” Grandpa confirmed, smiling at her while he cut more peppers. “Tell me…when you sit down and eat this meal, what will it remind you of?”

  “Of being in the apartment,” Bella answered. “And you not eating enough of it.”

  “Ha!” Grandpa exclaimed. “It will remind you of our story, Bella. Of you and I, two people trying to survive with barely a dollar to our names.” His smile broadened. “When I eat this, it reminds me that you cooked it for me because you know it’s my favorite. That you love me and care about me. That you worry about me and want to nourish me. Right?”

  Bella smiled back.

  “Right,” she agreed.

  “That’s the story it tells,” Grandpa declared. “And it’s one of the reasons why I love it so much. Not just because it tastes good, but because it tells a wonderful story. A kind of love story.”

  “I get it, Grandpa,” Bella said. She leaned in, giving him a hug with one arm. “I love you too you know.”

  “And I you,” Grandpa replied. “More than I can ever say.”

  “So meals tell stories, huh?” Bella mused, getting back to her cooking. “Seems like everything does.”

  “Correct!” Grandpa agreed, handing her some more chopped-up peppers. “People think in stories, Bella. Not facts or such. That’s why most teachers are terrible…they aren’t storytellers.”

  “Like Mrs. Pittersworth,” Bella muttered.

  “Definitely,” Grandpa agreed, making a face. Bella laughed, and he winked at her. “She was written boring, you know. They all were in that dreadful book. ‘The Chronicles of Collins Dansworth,’ what a pile of rubbish!”

  “Why’d you choose it then?” Bella inquired.

  “Because it was very long and detailed,” Grandpa explained. “With a huge world to get lost in. I knew that would make it harder for the Collector’s men to find us, even if they did pick the right book to look in.”

  “Ah.”

  “Before we got lost in it, Animus had knocked over quite a few bookshelves in the library,” he continued. “That’s why they had a hell of a time figuring out which book we got lost in.”

  “Clever,” Bella murmured.

  “Onions?” Grandpa inquired, eyeing the frying pan. Bella nodded. “Coming right up!” he proclaimed, grabbing one and starting the painful process of mincing it. Soon their eyes were stinging, tears dripping down their cheeks. A pain that was more than worth the sweet, caramelized treat the onion would be transformed into.

  At length they finished, and sat down to eat their meal. And it was, Bella realized, just as Grandpa had described. By the time she was done, she found herself smiling at him. At Thaddeus Birch, the world’s greatest Writer, nearly a thousand years old…and her sole companion for most of her life.

  “Love you Grandpa,” she said, reaching over the table and grabbing his hand. She gave it a squeeze.

  “And I love you, Bella,” he replied, his eyes twinkling. “Now, let’s clean up so I can tell you a story!”

  * * *

  Bella’s bedroom in Mom’s house was far larger than the one in her old apartment, and filled with paintings of various scenes from her childhood, according to Grandpa. They laid side-by-side, gazing at the ceiling while Grandpa spun a tale. A remarkable tale of adventure, as per his usual. When he was done, Bella turned to him.

  “How do you come up with stories so easily?” she asked.

  “I’ve lived a long life,” he answered. “The more you’ve lived, the more stories you’ll have to tell.”

  “I still can’t believe you’re over nine hundred years old,” she admitted. Grandpa chuckled.

  “I can hardly believe it either.”

  “Guess that explains why you’re so wise,” she mused.

  “You can learn a lot in ten lifetimes,” he agreed. Then he sighed. “I wish I’d learned this a lot earlier,” he admitted.

  “Learned what?”

  “This,” he repeated, gesturing at the two of them. “How it could change me. I waited so long to have children, you know. Nearly a thousand years old, and you’re my only grandchild.”

  Bella gazed at him.

  “You wish you had more?”

  “I will,” he replied. “When Gideon comes back, I’ll step into his canvas and regain my youth. What should I go for…my thirties?”

  “That’s going to be weird,” Bella realized. Grandpa was supposed to be, well, a grandpa.

  “You’ll get used to it,” he reassured.

  ‘So…” she began, clearing her throat. “When Gideon comes back, what then? How are we going to beat the Collector?”

  “I have a copy of my book in my desk,” he answered. “If you want to find out, you’ll have to read it.”

  He leaned over then, giving her a kiss on the forehead.

  “Goodnight sweetheart,” he murmured.

  “Night Grandpa. Love you.”

  “Love you too,” he replied, standing up and putting a hand on his chest. “With all my heart.”

  Bella smiled, putting a hand on her own heart, feeling her mother’s amulet there. Then she watched as Grandpa left the room, closing the door gently behind him.

  The room trembled.

  Bella stiffened, wondering if she’d imagined it. The sensation had been subtle, almost imperceptible. She waited nearly a minute, staring up at the ceiling, but felt nothing more.

  Suddenly the room trembled again, far more powerfully this time. The paintings went askew on the walls, her legs of her nightstand clattering on the floor. Her bedroom door burst open, and Grandpa stepped through.

  “Did you feel that?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she answered…and the room trembled again. Bella rolled out of bed, walking up to Grandpa. “What is it?”

  “I don’t know,” he replied. “Let’s go,” he added, grabbing her arm and pulling her out of the room. They made their way down to the foyer, and the floor quaked under their feet, dust falling from the ceiling.

  “It’s an earthquake,” Bella realized. “Does Havenwood get earthquakes?”

  “I certainly didn’t write it to.”

  They left the estate, making their way quickly across the mushroom-lit cavern to the Water Dragon’s tail. But it was pitch-black beyond; Bella went back to pluck a large glowing mushroom, bringing it with them up the Water Dragon’s innards. They reached the mouth of the cave, spotting starlight beyond, and a hint of the pale moon.

  The earth quaked yet again, a thunderous boom echoing through the air.

  They reached the end of the cave, walking beside the stream leading to the waterfall ahead. Grandpa stopped at the edge of the drop-off, gazing downward, and Bella joined him. Havenwood lay spread out before them, bordered by the mushroom forest, and the massive body of the White Dragon.

  Which was moving.

  Bella drew in a sharp breath, clutching onto Grandpa’s arm. She watched as the dragon’s head rose, its eyes focusing on something in the distance. Something in the forest beyond Havenwood.

  Bella peered into the forest, but saw nothing.

  The White Dragon pushed its huge body up off the ground, the earth trembling with the movement. Seconds later, she heard a low rumbling sound.

  “What’s happening?” she asked. Grandpa shook his head.

  “I don’t know,” he answered. “But it can’t be good.”

  The White Dragon extended its long neck, crouching low to the ground. She saw its enormous wings unfurl, spreading out so wide that its right wing completely covered the lake.

  “My god,” Bella breathed.

  “Look!” Grandpa exclaimed, pointing beyond the dragon.

  Bella peered into the darkness beyond, at the wide swathe of forest ahead. She caught a hint of movement there within the trees, near the tree line. Tiny shadows spilled out of the forest, thousands of them swarming over the grassy plain. An army charging toward the White Dragon.

  Toward Havenwood.

 
“What are those?” she asked.

  Grandpa didn’t answer.

  “Grandpa?”

  “Come on,” he urged, pulling her to the left. They made their way to the spiraling main street leading up to the top of Dragon’s Peak. She spotted a crowd of people standing by the street a ways down the mountain, staring down at the scene unfolding far below. Grandpa hesitated, then went down to join them, Bella at his side.

  “What’s going on?” he asked as they reached the men and women gathered there.

  “I don’t know,” one of the women answered, a short, rotund woman that looked to be in her fifties. A small owl was perched on her shoulder. “I’ll send Videre,” she said, patting the owl’s back. The owl leapt off her shoulder, flying forward, then diving quickly downward. It soared over the land, flying past the White Dragon to the open fields beyond.

  “What does she see, Ula?” a man asked.

  “An army,” the woman answered. Her eyes narrowed. “Black humanoids with eyes of flame, all identical to each other. Thousands of them.”

  “The Pentad’s men?” another asked. Ula shook her head.

  “They’re not wearing armor,” she answered. “I’ve never seen anything quite like them.”

  Bella glanced up at Grandpa, who was staring down at the approaching army. The White Dragon lifted its head high, arching its neck. A blast of air shot out of its nostrils, so loud that Bella could hear it…and so powerful that it swept through the grass below, flattening it.

  Then it drew its head back, sucking air in through its nostrils. It opened its huge maw, its eyes rolling back and its eyelids closing.

  The army of shadows stampeded toward the dragon, only a mile away…and closing fast.

  Blue light burst from the White Dragon’s mouth, a blinding ray that slammed into the plains below. Red-hot flames roared to life where the light touched the ground, thick smoke billowing upward from a huge swath of charred grass.

  But the shadow army parted before the deadly beam, flowing around the flames and the rising column of black smoke like water around a rock. The light faded, and the White Dragon’s eyes opened.