The Magic Misfits - Neil Patrick Harris Page 0,29
pitched the tip into the earth under the fire pit. He closed his eyes, striking at the dirt again and again, tossing it out onto the grass. Ridley directed the light so that he could see what he was doing.
When he’d dug down at least two feet, Izzy cried out, “What’s that?”
In the hole, something glistened from underneath a scattering of dirt and pebbles and a couple of writhing night crawlers.
Theo reached into the hole, brushed away the dirt and pebbles, and pulled out a chestnut-colored oilcloth sack. Whatever was inside was heavy enough to pull at the bottom and make it swing pendulously in his grip.
The Misfits all stared, none of them willing to break the spell.
Ridley couldn’t stand it. “Would you just open the sack already?” she practically shouted at Theo.
“Whoa,” said Izzy, taken aback.
“Are you all right, Ridley?” asked Olly.
Ridley held her breath. If even the twins were struck by her ferocity, she needed to dial it down a notch or three. Theo glared at her, then he tossed her the sack. She caught it before it could land in her lap. She glared back at Theo. “What if there’s something dangerous inside?”
“Go ahead and open the sack already,” Theo answered, his voice deliberate. Ridley felt her face burn.
“We can open it together,” said Leila, trying to smooth over the rough patch Ridley had stumbled into.
“Thanks, Leila,” she answered, ignoring the warmth in her cheeks. Together, the girls pulled at the leather drawstring that cinched the top of the sack. Carter, Theo, Olly, and Izzy perched on the edge of the brick ring like an eager audience. Leila lowered the sack toward the arm of Ridley’s chair so that the light was directed into the opening, then she reached in and pulled out two small, rectangular wooden boxes.
As soon as Ridley saw them, she felt a shock of recognition. Two memories sprang up from the past summer—the morning that Bosso’s goons had stolen items from each of her friends, and then the afternoon when the Misfits discovered Sandra Santos’s secret stash under the rock in the basement of the Grand Oak’s neglected West Lodge. One of the boxes had belonged to Carter’s father. The other had been Sandra’s. What were they doing buried back here?
“Puzzle boxes,” said Olly, leaning forward to examine them.
“Just like ours,” said Izzy. Ridley flinched, confused.
“Wait a second,” said Leila. “You two have a box too?”
“We found one here at the hotel a few months ago,” said Olly. “We tried to get it open, but we couldn’t figure out how.”
“Weird,” said Carter. “I still have my dad’s. His initials are inlaid into the wood on the side. Never got his open either.”
“And I held on to Sandra’s,” said Leila. “The one from the Emerald Ring’s lair in the basement of the West Lodge. It’s still locked up tight.”
Ridley was startled. “I thought… You mean these aren’t those?”
Carter and Leila shook their heads. “Look,” said Carter, taking both boxes from Leila. “My dad’s initials were LWL. Sandra’s are AIS.” He showed the new boxes to the group. “There are different inlaid letters on these.”
Theo scratched at his forehead, looking guilty. “I have one too.”
Ridley nearly fell over backward. “You do? How?”
“At the end of the summer, I got a letter from Emily Meridian. She sent me a key to her father’s store. I found a package in Mick’s workshop, wrapped up and marked with the message Keep Safe. The initials on my box read: MXM. Mick Xavier Meridian.”
Leila held up one hand and ticked one finger down for each name, for each box. “LWL. Lyle Wilder Locke. Right, Carter?” Carter nodded. “AIS. Alessandra I. Santos. MXM. Mick Xavier Meridian.” She glanced at the twins. “What about you two? Were there initials on the box you found?”
Izzy sat up straight, as if she were being quizzed. “Ours was BOB.”
Leila ticked down another finger. “Bobby O. Boscowitz. Also known as B. B. Bosso.”
“I thought maybe it just belonged to someone named Bob,” said Olly.
“Every one of these boxes belonged to the members of the Emerald Ring,” said Ridley. “Mr. Vernon’s old magic club.” She held out her hands to Carter, and he placed the ones from the oilcloth sack on her lap. “Each member must have had one with their own initials.” She turned the new boxes over, looking for the inlay she knew would be there. “Look! This one is marked VDV—”
“Virgil Dante Vernon,” Leila whispered. “My dad.”
“Your dad’s first name is Virgil?” Olly and