Compass of Dreams by Pierdomenico Baccalario

Author:Pierdomenico Baccalario
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: 978-1-4342-6517-3, 978-1-62370-157-4, 978-1-4342-6520-3, fantasy, magic, enchanted emporium, stone arch books, science fiction, Scotland, folklore
Publisher: Capstone Young Readers
Published: 2014-05-15T16:00:00+00:00

I couldn’t move. I just kept staring wide-eyed at those motionless figures in the garden. They stood there, watching us, posed in impossible positions. It took me a long while to realize they were just statues.

I’d heard that Barragh McBlack had a collection of strange statues, but I hadn’t expected them to be so . . . creepy. There were men with octopus heads, ducks with wheels for legs, and giant shrimp with glowing gemstones for eyes. Sure, they were bizarre and terrifying, but I had to admit they were pretty interesting, too.

Aiby and I exchanged glances, then headed toward the house. As we neared Scary Villa, we reached the first of those monstrous statues.

“It’s made of porcelain,” Aiby said. She passed her hand over a statue of a bug-eyed child wearing a shiny coat made of purple leather. “Creepy.”

“Agreed,” I said. The statues looked like they could come alive at any moment. “And very lifelike,” I added, nearly unable to pull my eyes away.

We kept moving. Whenever we heard a noise, we stopped and ducked. For some reason, there was a golf hole with flag number 17 sticking out of it.

“Can I ask you something, Aiby?” I asked.

“Sure.”

“You know where the compass is, right?”

“More or less, yes,” she said. “You read the entry in the BBMO too, right?”

“Err, yes, I sure did,” I said. “I just wanted to make sure we’re on the same page.”

Aiby frowned at me. “Sherwood’s Compass is more like a weather vane,” she said.

I nodded. That much I knew from looking at the drawing. “So where will we look for it?”

“Well, they don’t keep it inside the house, as you read.”

“Of course,” I said.

“So it should be somewhere out here, or in the barn,” Aiby said.

We divided the garden between us and searched for it for about ten minutes. Neither of us found anything related to Sherwood’s Compass.

We walked toward the house and peered inside a window. It looked like no one was home. We examined the three front dormer windows, but saw nothing.

Aiby pointed at the barn. With great caution, we drew closer to a window on the barn’s northern side. On top of the barn was a tall, wooden tower with a tin-plated roof. As we peered inside the window, we saw that part of the barn was being used as a pottery workshop. I saw the gaping mouth of a kiln, little dishes and pieces of statues on a small table, china pots, lumps of moist clay, molds of various shapes, and designs and drawings on the walls.

“Welcome to pack rat heaven,” I whispered. “If the compass is inside there, we’ll never find it.”

“I don’t think it is,” Aiby said.

“Why is that?” I asked.

“Because of the oven,” she said. “The intense heat would destroy the compass.”

I smiled to hide my confusion. Maybe I should have tried harder to learn to read the Enchanted Language . . . or, you know, just admit to Aiby that I hadn’t.

Heading toward the barn, we reached the side that had been converted into a garage.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.