Free How to Stop a Witch by Bill Allen Page B

finger.
    “But then how will you get home?” Nate asked.
    “Don’t worry,” said Greg. “I’ve made other arrangements.”
    Nate stared at him, looking more than a little overwhelmed. “Tell the truth. I mean, I know I’ve never seen one of those cat things before, but . . . you weren’t just putting us on, were you . . . for Dad’s sake? This Myrth world really exists?”
    Greg didn’t need to answer. Before he could speak, he felt his world shift. Nate’s questioning face was still gawking at him, refusing to believe, when it blinked out of existence.
    In its place hovered the shadowed features of the dark magician, Mordred.

Missing Pieces
    “What happened?” Greg asked. “Nate?”
    Lucky stepped up next to Mordred’s shoulder. “Greg, you’re back.”
    “I am?”
    “Obviously,” said Mordred.
    Lucky squeezed past the magician. “What happened? Did you find Nathan?”
    “What? Oh, yeah . . . is he here?”
    Lucky glanced around the room. Dozens of hooded figures stood motionless in the dark, but Nathan was not among them. He shrugged. “Maybe he’s outside.”
    “Nathaniel is not in the area,” Mordred said. “If he were, I would sense his presence.”
    “But I don’t understand,” said Greg. “I did everything but tell him what Hazel would do. He wouldn’t have abandoned us now.”
    “This does not surprise me,” said Mordred. “You can’t trust a man who would dabble in the Dark Arts.”
    “Would you get off the Dark Arts thing?” said Greg. “Nathan’s the most trustworthy man you’ll ever meet.” He shared a worried look with Lucky. “I wonder what happened to him?”
    Mordred’s mouth worked itself into something vaguely smile-shaped. “I rest my case.”
    “Let’s go find King Peter,” said Lucky. “Maybe he’s heard something . . . and even if he hasn’t, he’s been watching over the girls for three days now. I’m sure he’ll be grateful for the reprieve.”
    “Days?” said Greg. “You mean hours.”
    “No,” said Mordred. “Time passes differently here than it does on Gyrth.”
    “But when you sent me between here and Earth, I got back the same instant I left.”
    Mordred frowned. “Gyrth isn’t Earth.”
    “Wow.” Greg couldn’t believe he’d wasted so much time already. “Poor King Peter. Have the girls killed each other yet?”
    “Don’t know,” said Lucky. “I haven’t seen either of them since you left.”
    The two boys rushed off to seek out King Peter, whom they found alone in his study, reading a book. The girls were conspicuously absent.
    “Maybe they did kill each other,” whispered Lucky.
    “If you’re referring to the girls, they’re fine,” said the king. “Much better than expected. So, how did your trip to Gyrth go, Greghart? Did you find Nathan?”
    “Yes, Your Majesty—”
    “Peter, Greg. Just Peter.”
    “Right. Anyway, I did find him, and I warned him about Witch Hazel. I’d hoped you would have heard from him by now.”
    “Oh dear, not a word.”
    “Great, what do we do now?” said Lucky.
    The door opened, and a harried-looking Brandon Alexander rushed in carrying a large tome. Behind him walked Mordred, his face nearly concealed by his hood.
    “Sorry it took so long, Sire,” Brandon said, “but someone placed it back on the shelf in the wrong spot.”
    “Peter, Brandon. Just Peter.”
    “What’s that?” asked Lucky, motioning toward the book Brandon carried.
    “It contains the first of the Greghart prophecies,” the king said. He took the book from Brandon. “I’ve gleaned all I can from the current prophecy and the last, but haven’t learned anything that will help us. I had hoped the first might hold some clue we’ve overlooked.”
    “I doubt you will find anything there, Sire,” said Mordred. “If you ask me, Nathaniel Caine is the only man who can tell us what we seek. He’s known about events to come his entire life, and has spent all of that time preparing for them.”
    “Nathan’s