The Magic Misfits - Neil Patrick Harris Page 0,28
Ridley providing everyone with pencils and scraps of paper.
Ridley and Theo worked together. They managed to scramble Fred’s name to say: PETRIFIED HUNTER. And THE PURIFIED RENT. And FEED THEIR TURNIP.
Ridley was about to suggest to the group that they go and ask the Other Mr. Vernon if he kept turnips in a special place in his kitchen—a place they might search for another clue—when Carter and Leila let out a couple of small squeals. “What is it?” she asked them. “What did you find?”
Carter held out his and Leila’s list of anagrams. At the bottom, Ridley read: UNDER THE FIRE PIT.
Olly and Izzy oohed and ahhed.
“That has to mean something,” said Theo. “Is there a fire pit here at the Grand Oak?”
“Behind the outbuildings,” said Leila. “There’s a clearing in the woods and a circle of logs for sitting and in the center—”
“The ash pit,” Ridley finished. “Where the staff builds a campfire every night during summertime.”
“We’ll need a shovel,” said Carter.
A thought flashed through Ridley’s mind—a memory of the librarian raising the shovel of the future and bringing it down onto her project.
“There should be one out near the groundskeeper’s shed,” Leila answered. “But first, shouldn’t we go get Dad and Poppa? Tell them what we learned?”
Ridley shook her head. “We’re breaking their rules by meeting here. What if they send us all home?”
“But we have been breaking the rules since the end of the summer,” said Theo.
“That was breaking the rules in the correct way,” said Carter. “Now we’re breaking them wrong. Ridley’s right. The Vernons might get mad.”
“Who cares if they get mad if they’re the ones who can keep us safe?” Leila said, her usually cheery eyes growing dark.
“But they haven’t been keeping us safe,” said Ridley. “It’s why we’re in this situation.”
“That’s not fair,” said Leila.
“I don’t care,” Ridley answered, her voice beginning to rise. Theo cleared his throat, and Ridley took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Leila. I do care. But we’ve already come this far. We’re onto something. Once we figure out exactly what it is, we’ll tell the Vernons. Until then… I say, let’s go do some digging.”
Outside, the Misfits followed the paved pathway between the buildings where resort guests spent many an hour participating in summer activities. Now that the days were shorter and the nights cooler, the guests stuck to hiking trails, and these outer buildings were closed up tight—padlocks hung from hasps on the doors, and wooden shutters barred the windows.
In the evening darkness, Ridley felt as though they were walking through a ghost town. Shadows crept out from around the corners of the buildings. Carter carried the shovel they’d taken from the groundskeeper’s cache. Ridley wished she’d taken one too. For protection.
The clearing appeared ahead—a grass-covered knoll with a wide circle of cut pine laid out around a small ring of stacked bricks. The fire pit. The maybe spot that Fred P. Tithe had maybe marked with a maybe X. Ridley turned on her chair’s light and pointed it toward the bricks. She listened to the woods that surrounded them for the sound of a snapped twig, a rustle of dry leaves, a sudden hush—anything that might indicate danger. Any number of undesirable people could be out there. One of the mesmerized people. Or Carter’s uncle. Or Kalagan himself. But all she heard was a high wind moving harshly through tall branches and the whisper of pine needles brushing endlessly against one another.
Carter peered into the brick ring. “Ashes and dirt.” He began to clean it out. Minutes later, the bottom of the pit was clear. He waved everyone forward. They worked together to lift the brick floor out from inside it, revealing raw ground below.
Theo held up one of the bricks to Ridley’s light. “Does this look familiar?”
Smash! Ridley heard the sound of splintered glass, and the previous night came whooshing back to her. “You think whoever broke our window used one of these?” she asked.
“It stands to reason,” Theo answered. “Aren’t we playing with fire?”
“No, Theo,” Izzy said gravely. “We are playing with bricks.”
“I tried to juggle bricks once,” Olly added. “I don’t recommend it.”
Ridley turned to Olly. “Why would you ever… juggle a…” She sighed. “Forget it. Look, I really don’t want to be out here any longer than we need to be. Carter?” She nodded to the shovel perched against the ring of bricks. “Want to see what’s down there?”
“Do I?” Carter asked with a gulp. He picked up the shovel and then