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you can." The voice began to giggle and chirp. "But, like, if you love your father, then you won't."
"What?" Erec was tired of being confused, but he was so grateful for their help, he didn't dare to complain. "My father wants Bethany safe too. He wants me to rescue her."
"Like, fer sure. But he also wants to stay alive, like, a little while longer. Totally up to you. Whatever."
"What? My dad is in danger?"
"Oh, like, only if you call dying being in danger."
This was the last thing Erec expected to hear. "Why is he dying? What can I do?"
"I mean, like, isn't it obvious? I mean, totally. What was keeping him alive for five hundred years? A good diet?"
The answer was obvious to Erec immediately. The magic of King Piter's scepter gave him a life much longer than normal mortals. It even gave the people near to him longer lives. When the king had been put under a spell, hypnotized for ten years, the scepter must have been near enough to him to keep him alive--even though not in the best condition. But now it was gone. Erec had sent it away, and he could not bring it back by himself. How long would the king last without it? His age was probably catching up with him by the moment.
He had to get back to his father and figure out how to save him--and fast. "Bye. Uh, thanks!"
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"Good luck!" The Fates' voices were fading into the distance.
"Wait, come back!" Erec shouted into the well. "How do I save my father? How much time do I have? How long will Bethany be okay?"
A few more murmurs bubbled up before the water grew quiet. Erec thought he heard one of the Fates complaining, ". . . wants us to tell him, like, everything. As if. He is so not using his head today."
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CHAPTER SIX A Sister's Help
AM'S HANDS TREMBLED. He looked as shaken up as Erec felt. "Young sir. I ... we should go back to the king. What can we do? I should know--I'm supposed to be prepared." Jam dropped his face into his hands. Even though his magical gift was being prepared, Erec knew that some things were impossible to be ready for.
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Jam paused. "Unless young sir feels it more important to help Bethany than the king?" He looked terrified to hear the answer.
"No, we need to help him first. He looked really bad. And it sounds like Bethany will be okay for a little longer." Erec hoped he was right. "But what can we do?"
There was one obvious solution to the problem. Jam could say to him, "You are ready to use the scepter once again," and it would appear in his hands. He would just have to hand it over to the king again. Simple.
Or maybe not so simple. He wasn't sure. The more Erec thought about it, though, the more appealing it began to seem. Maybe he could put a spell on the king and keep him alive forever. If he just held it again, and could feel its warmth, its strength. He could use its power to become strong and take care of everything.
"Young sir?" Jam looked relieved. "I know what we need to do. He must go stay with Queen Posey. Being near her scepter, in her castle, should keep him young and strong. At least until he is able to be with his own scepter again."
Erec wanted to argue. His way was better! He could fix it all if he just held the scepter once again. The king would never get it back. It was Erec's now.
Then, like a slap in the face, he realized that his cravings were taking over his mind again. Jam was perfectly right. The king's sister would be glad to help, and Piter would enjoy the visit.
"Thanks, Jam. Great advice--as usual."
Jam grabbed Erec's sleeve and yanked him along the path. "Please hurry, young sir. We don't know how much time is left."
Erec sprinted behind Jam back down the path toward the Port-O-Door. Sunny-faced tourists wandered past them, happily admiring the scenery, unaware of the terrible danger. Erec was
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amazed how fast Jam's fingers flew over the Port-O-Door maps in the vestibule, directing the door right into the living room of his Aunt Salsa's apartment in Americorth North.
After a quick rap for