This week, someone who should know better gave out some dangerous advice. Your continued survival is important to us. So, we, characters, felt it was important to say one thing on this matter:
Please do not ingest, inject, or imbibe cleaning products. They are hazardous to your health. Please be safe.
Now that that’s out of the way, we return you to our regularly scheduled newsletter.
I’m Ran, your host, and the son of Sarn, the hero of the Curse Breaker books, and I have a problem. Someone took this week’s adventure!
That’s why I’m crawling around and searching underneath things. I assure you this is not normal behavior for me even though I am a small, fictional child from a fantasy world.
Who took this week’s episode?
Well, not Papa because he’s scanning the cupboards for it.
I glanced at Uncle Miren. Could he have taken it?
Over by the door, Uncle Miren sorted through a pile of papers for this week’s adventure. He looked like he was diligently searching, but was he?
A drawer slammed closed, and Auntie Sovvan leaned against it, shaking her her head. Had she taken it? She had control of it last week. Was she having trouble letting it go, so I could take my rightful place as the main character of this zany tale?
“It’s not in there,” Auntie Sovvan said when she caught me looking at the closed drawer. Had she really searched it?
“It’s not in here either.” Uncle Miren tossed a pile of papers onto the couch and looked around my Scribe’s apartment for somewhere else to search. “Did you find it?”
Papa shook his head, but he kept running his hand over the closed door of the pantry. Could his magic actually find it? It liked rocks, but what about stories?
The screen flickered and redrew with a blue-glowing dragon made of ones and zeroes on it. As the Newsletter-Dragon mantled her code-based wings, her bright eyes locked onto me.
“You took it!” I pointed at the screen, and that dragon pointed a claw her chest.
“Me? I haven’t touched your precious story. Why would I? I’m getting lots of page time. Isn’t that the goal?” The Newsletter-dragon winked at me.
“Not this time. Have you asked your Scribe where it is? I’ll bet she knows.” The Newsletter-Dragon gave the door to Melinda’s apartment a pointed glare then the screen flickered and went dark.
Melinda couldn’t have had anything to with this week’s adventure disappearing. She’s the author of them.
I stomped over to the kitchen table and jiggled the mouse to wake the screen up, but it stayed dark. That wasn’t supposed to happen. I pushed a few buttons, but nothing happened.
“You could ask her about it,” Uncle Miren suggested as he pushed some papers over, so he could sit on the couch.
Melinda wasn’t the best housekeeper. It was probably for the best that she had a small apartment. She had less places to clean and clutter up. Melinda also had no idea this week’s episode had gone missing, which was why we were covertly searching her apartment while she was in the other room doing laundry.
I considered asking her about its whereabouts, but she couldn’t possibly have had anything to do its disappearance. True, she had been having a lot of trouble writing our next adventure. With all the uncertainty in the world right now, focusing on anything else was difficult at times, and she was exhausted from all the work she did for her day job last week.
Maybe I should ask her. I stared at the closed door, which was almost completely covered by coats and other outerwear. Melinda had quite a collection of cold weather gear.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Papa crouched beside me.
“Do you think she took it?”
“I don’t know. She’s been struggling since our last book release didn’t earn enough to pay back the editing and cover design costs.” Papa rubbed my back.
“But she is still writing. I’ve seen her doing it.” I ducked my head. “I might have spied on her through the portal.”
That purple hoop glowed softly as it floated near where my uncle sat. Its terminus tended to wander around Melinda’s apartment for no reason any of us had ever discovered.
“Well, I don’t have it.” Auntie Sovvan held both her hands palm up to show they were empty.
“Does that robe come with pockets?” Maybe I should search them. I didn’t know Auntie Sovvan as well as I knew Papa and Uncle Miren.
Bear waddled past her and shook his head. “She doesn’t have it.” He awkwardly turned a page in the book he was holding with one of his paws.
“Maybe you have it.” Auntie Sovvan glared at Bear.
“No.” Bear turned another page. “I’ve had enough adventures. Thank you very much.”
“Then why do you keep disappearing?” Papa sat back on his heels and pulled me into his arms.
That was a good question, but not one we’d get an answer too because Bear hopped onto the couch and through the portal a moment later, taking the book in his paws with him.
“Why does he always do that?” Papa shook his head in consternation.
I shrugged. Bear was an enigma wrapped in a plush toy.
The door opened, and Melinda walked in carrying a large bag of clothes fresh from the dryer. “Why all the glum faces?” She bumped the door with her hip to close it.
I squared my little shoulders. She was the only person I hadn’t asked. Part of me was afraid of the answer. What if she had taken it? What would we do then?
I didn’t know, but I had to ask. This search had already gone on for an hour. It was time to put the question to our Scribe. I left the protective circle of Papa’s very long arms and approached her. “This week’s adventure went missing. Do you know where it is?”
We’ll find out next week and hopefully, return to our adventure-in-progress. Have a great week and please stay safe until then.
Oh, and I almost forgot. Review copies of “Spell of Scales & Steel,” our Scribe’s story, which is included in Forgotten Magic are available. Forgotten Magic publishes on May 12.
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