Over the Underworld by Adam Shaughnessy

Author:Adam Shaughnessy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Algonquin Books
Published: 2016-08-16T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 18

Mister Fox rose from his chair, instantly alert.

“What is it?” ABE asked. “What’s happened? Where do we need to go?”

“We need to take the Henhouse to school and drop it on our teacher, Mr. Jeffries.”

The detective sat back down.

“I can’t do that, Pru,” he said.

“Why? You dropped it on Gristling last year. Now when I need a tiny favor, you’re suddenly all moral about dropping your house on people?”

“A little bit, yes. But just to save some time, let me be clearer. I literally can’t do that. I told you last year that the Henhouse is very limited in where it can set foot.” The detective turned to ABE. “And no, ABE, I’m not making a pun on the word foot.”

ABE closed his mouth, disappointed.

“The point,” Mister Fox continued, “is that when it’s on Earth, the Henhouse can only land in places where Earth and Worlds of Myth intersect, what I call the Borderlands. That’s true of all witch’s houses. The Henhouse, however, has the added limitation that it can only set down on grounds that border the living and the dead. Graveyards, cemeteries, and the like.”

“Right. You think it’s because you’re mortal and not a witch,” ABE said, remembering.

“Precisely. Which is why we can’t use the Henhouse to squash your teacher, Pru. Sorry.”

“Fine. Then I want a hammer. Thor has a hammer. I want a hammer,” Pru said, throwing herself into a chair next to ABE’s. She glanced around and added, grudgingly, “Nice library, by the way. What happened to the old one?”

“The room you saw last year? That was just a workshop, a space I use for a specific project. I set that one up during our last investigation specifically to study the Middleton Stone. And while we’re on the subject of Thor’s hammer and things related to Norse mythology, perhaps we can return to our navigation?”

While Mister Fox collected the leather-bound book he’d taken from the shelves earlier and paged through it, ABE whispered to Pru, “Things didn’t go well with Mr. Jeffries?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

ABE leaned back, frowning.

“Okay,” Mister Fox said, turning the book to show ABE and Pru the page he’d been seeking. “ABE, have you ever seen this woman before?”

ABE gasped.

“That’s the woman from my dream!” The book was a handwritten journal and the image was a pencil drawing, but it was unquestionably of the woman from his dream. The likeness was uncanny, even if half of the woman’s face was so heavily shaded that it looked like a black shadow.

“Not a dream, ABE,” Mister Fox corrected. “A nightmare.”

“Well, yeah. Technically, I guess.”

“The distinction is actually important in this case. Do either of you know what a mare is?”

“It’s a horse!” Pru blurted. “Sorry, ABE. Beat you to that one. Not that I have a thing about horses!”

ABE decided that was the perfect time to not bring up her unicorn pajamas.

“Well, yes,” Mister Fox said. “But in this case, that’s not the answer I was looking for. A mare is also the name for a creature from Norse mythology.

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