Free The Questory of Root Karbunkulus - Quill by Kamilla Reid Page A

the folds of his jacket and was apologizing with
great heaps of panic when the grand garden doors opened again.
    Jorab strolled through the tables, a pair of
pants in his arms.
    “Ah, you’re here. Splendid. Valadors, may I
present your new guide, Ernest Skubblenob.”
     

9
NO SUCH LUCK
     
     
    An emergency plan was definitely in order.
The Valadors met in Root’s room. She went straight for her closet
while her teammates collapsed, Dwyn on her bed, Lian on her new
chair, a spongy green thing, compliments of Estrella
Fuffleteez.
    “I think I can safely say that my dating life
is over,” said Dwyn with a heaving sigh of resignation.
    Lian just mmmphed. There was nothing that
could be said. Dwyn was probably right. No one in their right mind
would want anything to do with them now. Not when half of them got
third degree burns from playing a reluctant game of hot potato with
a red hot scorching stupid remote control for an even stupider quasi invention that doesn’t even work, not to
mention the doltish helmet that fell forward blinding the old
man and sending him crashing into the Imaginate!!!
    Okay, team, breathe. Let it go.
    No easy task. If they listened carefully
enough they could probably still hear the sizzling sparking death
of the Imaginate, which was nothing compared to the ensuing
hysteria. Lian clung to a single token of redemption. “Thank god we
won’t have to use him.”
    “I’m not too sure about that.” Root said,
coming up empty for the third time from the closet floor.
    “Oh no.” said Dwyn looking at her.
    “Oh please, no.” Added Lian.
     
    In Dwyn’s room all three were scuttling about
in a mad search: tossing clothes, dumping drawers, checking and
rechecking corners, piles, under the bed…all to no avail. Dwyn’s
Klok, a beaver with excessively long, underused teeth yawned.
“It’th way path-t your thleepytime, my boy.”
    Everyone ignored it.
    “Are you sure I had the Pasting Quill last?”
said Dwyn crouched behind his dresser.
    “Well, you were the last one to use it on
Root.”
    “Wait a minute! That was when we were still
with Martika and Alabiss. When we left, you had packed it in
the travel bag, Lian!” Dwyn obviously didn’t like being held
responsible for losing the one thing they wanted now more than
anything.
     
    But then neither did Lian as they ransacked
his room, which was a much more difficult undertaking considering
that many things that were searchable were alive and not at all
pleased about being frisked.
    When nothing was recovered the probable
    loss of the Pasting Quill aka HaloEm Quill
became a suffocating reality. And on the heels of suffocating
reality, blame could always be found.
    “How could you not know it was a HaloEm
Quill?” asked Dwyn far too accusingly for Lian’s liking.
    “As a matter of fact I was suspicious but
she
    used it like a butter knife, Dwyn! You don’t
use a real live HaloEm Quill like a butter knife.”
    “Well, why didn’t you ask?”
    “I just assumed it was from an exotic
bird!
    And besides I didn’t see you asking about it,
either!”
    “Well, how’m I s’posed t’think it’s
unusual.
    I’ve never lived here before!”
    “You still could’ve asked. It’s not like
    you’ve never asked about anything here
    before…only like a hundredbazillion times! It
doesn’t matter anyway ‘cause even if you knew you’d’ve probably
lost it!”
    “I didn’t lose it! You did!”
    “Okay, guys that’s enough! Geez.” Root
    wanted to strangle them both. “There’s no
point fighting when it could’ve got lost anywhere during the last
Quest. It’s not like the travel pack was kept in a nice, safe
bubble after we left the Keepers. If you remember an Albino Gorilla
even had it for awhile.”
    True.
    But the horror of being so close and now so
far was a sickening pill to swallow. Not because they would have
to, like everyone else, journey to find a new Quill. That wasn’t
bad at all. In fact they had to admit they had