by Obert Skye
Ozzy had considered going right to the authorities, but part of him wanted to be left alone for a while longer. He’d been relieved to find that the cloaked house had not been touched in his absence. Nobody had found it and not a thing had been toyed with. One of the stops he and Sigi had made on the way home had been to a Best Buy, where he bought a CD player, a couple of CDs, and another portable solar charger.
The first night home, Ozzy had walked around investigating every box and listening to Ben Folds Five.
I see that there is evil
And I know that there is good.
And the in-betweens I’ve never understood.
He loved being home, but he knew things were different now. He knew his life couldn’t stay the way it always had. So after a couple of days alone, he had hiked to Sigi’s house in hopes of working out his future.
Remaining hidden was no longer an option.
Ozzy met with Sigi and her mom. Together, they talked to the sheriff, who needed answers, so Ozzy filled him in on his life story. The sheriff was moved, but still wanted to know what had happened with Rin.
“Magic” was the only explanation Ozzy could offer.
Sheriff Wills eventually gave up that line of questioning. And since the only crime committed in his jurisdiction was Rin taking the cops on a high-speed chase, there was nothing he could do. Knowing he was beat, he backed down and even helped Ozzy find a lawyer to help him sort out what would come next.
With the court’s help, it was resolved that the cloaked house and the land that surrounded it were legally Ozzy’s. Contracts were being drawn up to make sure everything was proper and that it would all be his unconditionally when he turned eighteen. The only current stipulation was that Ozzy couldn’t continue to live alone in the woods any longer.
“So this is it,” Clark said as he looked out at the forest that surrounded the cloaked house. “We’re doing this?”
It had been surprisingly easy to put Clark back together. His head had to be popped on and his wing patched up. But in the end, with a strong dose of sun, the bird had been raised from the dead so he could continue to pester Ozzy on a daily basis. Ozzy’s relief at having him back was immeasurable.
“Yes,” Ozzy answered.
“You’re sure?”
“Positive.”
“We could hide somewhere else until you turn eighteen. Then we could go wherever we want and do whatever we wish. You know—change the world.”
Ozzy laughed.
“I don’t want to wait. I’m going to start changing things today.”
Clark hopped on Ozzy’s head.
“Okay, but can we make sure those changes include a lot of metal staplers and finches?”
They stepped off the porch and walked away from the cloaked house and into the forest.
“You know we’ll come back all the time,” Ozzy said. “This still belongs to us. And you can fly here whenever you want.”
“I guess.”
Clark jumped down onto Ozzy’s right shoulder and kept quiet.
So much had happened in the last little while. They both wanted it to mean something. Ozzy still experienced some painful thoughts, especially at night when darkness settled in and his mind would replay the incident on the mountain in his head. When this happened, his left hand would buzz, reminding him of the feeling he’d had seconds before he had tackled Charles. His brain had felt so strong at that moment, powerful. It would have been helpful to have his parents around to explain what had happened, but they were gone. The road trip had provided him with some answers, but it had also forced him to accept certain realities—his parents were not coming back. He missed them, but the deep darkness he used to feel was much shallower and easier to wade through now.
“Do you think you’ll ever figure out what your ability is?” Clark asked as he scratched Ozzy’s shoulder with his talons.
“I don’t know.” Ozzy stared at his birthmark. “I’m pretty sure my parents gave me something bigger than just this home and land. Now I need to find out what.”
“You’d think hanging out with a wizard would have helped you discover it.”
“You’d think.”
“Rin used to say that we are all an extension of each other, that your experience is mine, just on a different frequency. If that’s true, then we’re all part wizard and part bird,” Clark said. “What’s a wizard bird called anyway? I bet it starts with a W. Warird? Wirdlock?”
“How about bizard?” Ozzy suggested.
“That does sound good,” the bird chirped. “Of course, I wish Rin was here. He’d know the answer, or make something up, at least.”
“I wish that too.”
“Yeah. Instead he’s in Quarfelt doing all kinds of amazing things.”
Ozzy breathed in and out slowly as he walked.
“I never got to thank him—or even pay him, for that matter. All that magic for the price of some meals and gas money.”
“Well, I’m glad to see you’re still talking to yourself,” a third voice said.
Ozzy stopped.
Standing directly in front of both the bird and boy was Sigi. She’d hiked halfway to meet him in the middle of the trees. Sigi’s long, dark, curly hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her deep eyes were brighter than the shadows of the trees could hide. She was wearing a green tank top and white shorts.
“You didn’t have to hike in,” Ozzy said kindly.
“I wanted to make sure you weren’t chickening out.”
“No way. I think it’s you and your mom that should be chickening out.”
“It’s a big house,” Sigi said. “What’s one more person living there?”
“One more person and a bird,” Clark said, offended.
“Of course.”
Ozzy stepped up to Sigi and they both continued walking towards Mule Pole Highway.
“So how are you?” Ozzy asked her.
“Meh.” She shrugged. “Everything’s kind of boring since our trip.”
“Yeah, your dad knows how to make things interesting.”
“It’s weird,” she said. “Over the last ten years I barely saw him, so I barely missed him. But now I just wish he would come home.”
“Me too,” Clark chirped.
“He’ll be back,” Ozzy said. “I have no doubt about that.”
“Can you promise?”
“No, but I can predict.”
“Fair enough,” she said.
“I prefer ‘More than fair.’”
Ozzy and the wizard’s daughter walked quickly through the woods. The sun trickled in through the leaves above while squirrels and foxes dashed about. A soft breeze drifted around them as the sound of a distant train was heard.
Sigi held out her hand and Ozzy took it.
Clark chirped happily and all things pointed clearly to the fact that life, with its heartaches and complications, could never hide the fact that magic was very much alive.
1.Have you ever had a friend like Clark? Who was it, and how did he or she show you devotion?
2.Do you think you would like living by yourself as long as Ozzy did? What would be the scariest thing about that?
3.Have you ever seen something like Rin’s ad? What was it? Did you want to answer it?
4.Have you ever been served food like Rin’s sister, Ann, served Ozzy? What did you do to get out of eating it?
5.Clark is quite remarkable. Do you ever wonder how things are made? Name something you’ve taken apart to figure out how it works. Were you able to get it back together afterward?
6.Have you ever listened to a cassette tape? What was on it?
7.What makes you different from everyone else? Why do you think diversity is good?
8.If you had a box full of money, what is the first thing you would buy and why?
; 9.Ozzy was devastated when the cloaked house was invaded. Has anything of yours ever been messed with or taken? How did you feel?
10.Rin says, “Ordinary things . . . might actually be magic. . . . There is magic in the force of gravity [just as there is] magic in the mail system.” Name something ordinary that might actually feel magical to someone else.
11.Do you believe people are good until they prove otherwise, or do you doubt their intentions immediately? Why do you feel that way?
12.Ozzy’s parents were working on some amazing things. Do you wish free will wasn’t so hard at times? What decisions do you wish were made (or not made) for you?
13.If you could open your own fast food drive-thru, what kind of food would you serve?
14.Which breakfast food best describes you? (1) Eggs and tortillas and green chiles; (2) Biscuits and sausage gravy; or (3) Barbecue pork omelet (an “Eggy Oinker”)? Why?
15.When Ozzy, Clark, and Sigi are driving with Rin to Albuquerque, Rin starts playing a driving game called “A wizard speaks.” If you were playing that game, how would you fill in the blank? A wizard speaks and ____?
16.Do you believe that Rin is truly a wizard? Why? And if not, why not?
This book was brought to life with the help of some talented and magical people. First, to Chris Schoebinger: I can’t say enough. Chris has stood over this cauldron of words and story and conjured up the best of me: Thank you! To Derk Koldewyn, who has edited this with all the right incantations and punctuation: Gracias! To Richard Erickson, who is a wizard of design and has been a friend since my very first book: Danke! To Dave Brown, Jill Schaugaard, Rachael Ward, Ilise Levine, Heidi Taylor, and the entire Shadow Mountain team; you have each touched this story and made it glow. All of you seem way more talented than mere mortals: Merci! To John Rose, whose taste in music is second only to his spellbinding way of putting books in hands: Takk! To my agent, Laurie, who constantly brandishes her wand on my behalf: Grazie! And to Brandon Dorman, who created an amazing cover that is so good there must have been a powerful spell involved: Samp! (Which is thanks in Quarfelt.)
Because there is magic in everyday life, there are a couple everyday people I must thank. Dan Gardiner: thanks for the long list of things you’ve done for me. Dad: thanks for the even longer list of things you’ve done for me. And Krista: thanks for always giving me lists of things to do. You make the task worthwhile.
Samp you. Samp you all!