Free Sorcerer's Secret by Scott Mebus Page B

portrait and turned to go . . .
    Something held her up. She glanced back at the portrait. What was that? Something behind her mother she’d never noticed before, sitting on her father’s desk.
    â€œThat’s impossible,” she muttered to the portrait. But still, there it was. A small brown package sitting on the desk in the background. Alexa had spent the past three hundred years staring at this portrait and she’d never noticed it before.
    Because it had never been there before . . .
    But what did it mean? She’d already searched the desk and found nothing. So where . . . her eyes widened as a thought occurred to her.
    â€œYou sneaky bastard,” Alexa told her dad, wishing the old man were around to hear it. “It’s in the painting! But how can I reach it?”
    She had only one option, crazy as it seemed. She reached out tentatively to touch the surface of the painting . . . and her finger sank in up to a knuckle. She shook her head in admiration. The package was behind the Beloved, all right. Feeling decidedly strange, she reached farther into the painting, first sinking her fingers, than her hand, then her arm into the art. She took great pains not to touch her mother (that would probably give her a heart attack), but instead reached around her toward the desk. She groped forward and forward, until she was practically half in and half out of the painting, her nose an inch from passing through. For a moment she was afraid she was going to fall in completely, but finally she got a grip on the package. With a quick yank, she pulled it free of the portrait, her heart jumping as she almost brushed against her mother’s shawl.
    Triumphant, Alexa gazed down at the package in wonder. Tearing it open, she felt a wash of understanding flow over her.
    â€œHello,” she whispered as a smile crept across her face. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

    B ridget was getting bored, sitting around waiting for Alexa to return. And now that the excitement of going on a quest had faded somewhat, she found her mind slipping against her will to thoughts of her dad. She’d spent her entire life daydreaming about the day her father would show up. And then when he does, she’s too scared to say hello? What was wrong with her? When her dad ran off like that . . . she was disappointed. She’d thought her father would be more like . . . well, more like Rory. Instead, he was the Road Runner, always on the move. She knew it should make her feel better to know that it wasn’t because of her that Dad left, that he seemed to leave everyone sooner or later. But it really didn’t.
    â€œI wanna take a look at Alexa’s house!” she announced, not wanting to think about her dad anymore. She hopped to her feet, making sure her new sword stayed in her belt. The thing was a lot heavier than its cardboard predecessor, and it kept tripping her up. But it sure looked dangerous on her hip.
    â€œNo, Bridget,” Rory told her. “You heard what Alexa said. No going anywhere!”
    â€œDon’t worry, poopy pants!” she answered brightly, tiptoeing to the end of the alley. “See how careful I’m being? I just want to peek! I won’t go skipping down the driveway or anything.”
    She reached the corner of the last building and stuck her head out to see. Her heart leaped to see the walls fade away into swaying corn. She never thought she’d see anything as pretty as the flowering trees surrounding the stately manor house on the hill. She sneaked around the corner, keeping close to the wall. She’d step into the corn, just for a moment, to see what it was like. Then she’d go back to the others.
    She walked right up to the towering stalks, staring up at the tips framed against the blue sky. But before she could take another step, a hand shot out from within the corn and pulled her into the stalks.
    â€œWha–” she began, before