The Dragons of Ordinary Farm by Tad Williams & Deborah Beale & Greg Swearingen

Author:Tad Williams & Deborah Beale & Greg Swearingen [Williams, Tad & Beale, Deborah & Swearingen, Greg]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Juvenile Fiction, Fantasy & Magic, sf_fantasy
ISBN: 9780061543456
Amazon: 0061543454
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2009-06-01T23:00:00+00:00

Colin knew exactly where Gideon was going because the antiques dealer, Jude Modesto, had taken the bait of Colin’s email and told him where they would be meeting—at Gideon’s “secret office.”

Gideon Goldring was not the kind of man to transact his business in front of every curious soul in Standard Valley, and there were obvious reasons he didn’t want to have Modesto (or anyone else) visit Ordinary Farm, so he had taken the precaution of leasing a tiny office in a small, half-built business park several blocks away from Standard Valley’s main street. Luckily for Colin it was still twenty minutes until Gideon’s meeting, so the old man and Ragnar were going to get a cup of coffee first. They invited Colin to join them at the café but he declined politely. When they headed toward Rosie’s, Colin walked into the general store, then straight through and out the back door. Once he was out of sight, he tucked his briefcase under his arm and began to sprint toward the business park.

The building was small, and except for a chiropractor’s office and a secondhand store that was apparently closed today there were no other businesses yet in place: Gideon’s office was on the second floor above one of several empty storefronts. Colin paused at the bottom of the stairs long enough to slow his breathing and wipe the sweat from his forehead, then walked up and pushed the door open.

As Colin had hoped, Jude Modesto had let himself into Gideon’s sparsely furnished office and was waiting. The antiques dealer was plump and pink, his bulk overflowing the inexpensive office chair, and he had a little tuft of a mustache, which did not make him look as young and fashionable as he probably thought it did. Modesto’s glasses slid halfway down his nose as he mopped sweat from his face with a handkerchief. “You kept me waiting long enough,” he said crossly, staring Colin up and down. “Look at you—you’re just a kid! What do you want from me?”

Colin was very conscious that Gideon Goldring would be coming through the door in less than a quarter of an hour, but he did his best not to look hurried. He settled into the big chair that he supposed must usually be Gideon’s, unlatched his briefcase, then paused and gave the antiques dealer his sternest look. “Just one question, Modesto. Are you rich enough?”

“What nonsense is this?” Modesto wiped his forehead furiously, as if to scrub away even the memory of being talked to that way by a mere boy. “I’m a very important man . . . .”

“Yes, I’m sure you are, but we’re not talking about important, we’re talking about rich. I’m asking whether or not you would like to be really, really rich. Are you happy dealing in trinkets, Modesto? Setting things up for the people who have the real money? Or would you like to get in on a truly big score”—Colin hoped he wasn’t overdoing the tough-guy lingo:

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