Free The Missing Link by David Tysdale Page A

Carole altered her gaze just a little
and watched the heavens come alive with the pulses of thousands of rainbow streamers. The scene
was absolutely breathtaking, totally mesmerizing, and yet it was a scene she couldn't share with her
friends, Runt or even Professor Philamount.
    "Do not dawdle Miss Sylphwood." Professor Philamount's voice cut through her reverie.
"It is late and tomorrow is a full day. Off you go. Home to bed."
    "All right." Carole stomped towards the Rim, the narrow path bordering the connector
field, and sped off. It wasn't as if she hadn't a good reason to be angry with the man. She had wasted
the rest of the evening waiting for him to talk about the reading, which he hadn't. Melodious T.
Philamount had remained close-lipped and stone-faced through the entire party.
    She raced along the circular path, not slowing until she reached a wide, cobblestone lane
called the Northway. There were four such lanes neatly quartering the community. Each began at
the Celestial Nexus, the solitary mountain rising from the center of the Hub, and ended at the Rim. It
was another of the bizarre contradictions about the place. Multitasking was supposed to be about
flexibility, and yet the community had been laid out with rigid, geometric precision. She started
down the dark lane.
    The residential district seemed totally deserted. Still she glided warily, checking side
paths and skirting around the bizarre street lamps that sporadically illuminated the lane. As she
approached her own Trickleberry Trail, Carole saw a shadow of movement across the intersection.
She was about to duck off the road when she heard a familiar click-whirring sound coming up from
behind.
    A Bobber Light! One of those floating spotlights that patrolled the lanes, and turned on
at the slightest detection of motion. Carole froze.
    Whoever was up ahead must not have heard, for the shadowy figures continued into the
intersection. The Bobber Light buzzed past Carole, and moments later the intersection flared under
its blinding spotlight. With cries of pained surprise, two men jumped back from the powerful light
and ran off.
    The Bobber Light gave chase, doggedly keeping up to light their way. Carole watched
until the men were just specks in the distance, thinking that this was the first time she was actually
grateful for the appearance of one of those roving spotlights.
    Instead of turning for home, she continued south to Middletown Road and doubled back
to the Eastway, which she took to Hub Central. The Devilles' small cottage was behind the school,
sandwiched between the playing field and the bordering forest. Lights were still on. Carole rapped
quietly on the front door and slipped inside.
    A girl close to her age and size, jumped up from a chair. "Carole. Didn't expect you
tonight."
    "Just got back."
    "Hey Sylphwood." Lilly's twin brother, Zack, looked up from where he was lounging.
"Got any--" He gawked as Carole stepped out of the shadowy hall and into the room. "Holy moly,
what happened to your face?"
    "Oh that." Carole pressed her cheeks. "Mariat tried out my whistle wand and the spell
sort of blew up on us."
    "Ouch! Remind me never to borrow that thing," Zack said.
    "Is that why you're here?" Lilly ushered Carole to a kitchen chair. "Do you need some
first aid?"
    "I'm fine." Carole took the square of parchment from her pocket and placed it on the
table. "What do you guys make of this?"
    The twins crowded near. "What is it?" Lilly said.
    "The answer to Professor Philamount's brew question."
    "What was the question?" Zack said.
    Carole shrugged and said, "I have no idea."
    The twins studied the words written on the paper in silence.
    "Fates uncertain," Zack finally said. "Well duh, the future's always uncertain. Doesn't
take a genius to figure that one out. Who wrote this thing?"
    "A pot."
    "Oh. Not bad for a kitchen utensil, I guess."
    "So does this mean the Conundrum was part of a larger war?" Lilly said.
    "Apparently."
    "I guess multitaskers aren't