Gabriel Finley and the Lord of Air and Darkness by George Hagen

Author:George Hagen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2017-09-19T04:00:00+00:00

But the children would not leave. A girl with cat’s-eye glasses and hair tightly braided in twelve short blond pigtails held up a shoe box for Pleshette to see. The boy beside her, a tall, gangly fellow with black-framed glasses, pressed the bell again. Another girl holding a violin case peered in hopefully.

Pleshette opened the door a crack. “Holy Harry Houdini, stop ringing my bell!” he snarled. “I don’t want to buy cookies or whatever garbage you’re selling.”

“Hi there, Mr. Pleshette,” said the girl with pigtails. “We found this talking raven, but never mind.” She turned to her friends. “Let’s go, guys!”

“Wait!” cried Pleshette, opening the door wide. “Another talking raven?”

He beckoned for the children to enter.

Pamela removed the lid to reveal Vyka. Pleshette peered at the marvelous blue bird from every angle and nodded. “Excellent condition,” he said. “Where did you find it?”

“Her,” said Pamela, leaning her violin case against the counter. “She landed on my windowsill.”

“And?”

“Asked me a riddle,” said Pamela.

“And?” Pleshette’s eyes widened.

“I couldn’t guess it.”

“Excellent! A raven without an amicus is even more valuable. I can certainly get a good price for it, and, of course, I would give you half of the normal share—”

“Wait,” interrupted Pamela. “Why only half?”

“You’re just children,” said the shopkeeper. “You’re half the size of an adult.”

“But you’re not buying us.”

Pleshette glared at them. “I have to pay taxes…foreign tariffs…fees, fines…surcharges!”

“No you don’t,” said Abby calmly. “You’re making it up.”

“But, my dear girl, listen to reason,” continued Pleshette.

During this discussion, Somes had been looking around the shop for Paladin’s cage. He couldn’t see it among the items hanging from the ceiling, so he caught Abby’s eye and shook his head.

“Maybe we should go,” Abby said.

“All right, fine, no problem. You can have the normal share,” said Pleshette hastily. “Let me hear her talk.”

Pamela leaned toward Vyka. “Speak, little bird!”

The blue raven opened her beak and uttered a noise almost like a cork popping from a bottle: “THROK! THROK!”

Immediately, an answer came. “THROK! THROK!”

He is here, Vyka told Pamela, who signaled the good news to Abby and Somes.

“That’s not talking,” protested the shopkeeper. “You said she could talk.”

“C’mon, little bird. Speak!” said Pamela.

Vyka uttered more throkking sounds.

All this time, Paladin and Gabriel had been listening carefully. Gabriel? said Paladin. My friend Vyka just told me we’re about to be released by your friends! You must be ready to jump free of me when the time comes. Do you understand?

I’m ready, said Gabriel.

Pleshette was growing impatient. “You’re not fooling me,” he said. “This bird can’t talk. Get out of my shop.”

“No, honestly!” Pamela insisted. “I promise.” She held up her violin case. “The raven loves music.”

“Oh no.” Pleshette clutched his bald head in despair. “A horrible screeching violin. I used to play one when I was a kid. It’s the worst sound in the world.”

Pamela opened the case, gently took out her violin, and started playing. A joyous melody filled the shop. Dozens of miserable captives peered out from their cages. Even Pleshette lowered his hands and listened, transfixed by the beautiful sound.

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