A bead of sweat trickles down Laureus’s temple, down his neck, the scroll
clenched between his teeth. Deep in the underground caverns beneath the
Lavender and Roses Society Headquarters in New York City, his muscles strain
in the damp darkness. He climbs up steep earthen walls. Grunts, shrieks, hisses
below him. He peers down, and there’s a blur of bluish-orange shapes. Damn
those domovoi.
Professor Stone claims they’re friendly and docile. But Laureus knows
otherwise, especially when you steal something they’re guarding—like a scroll.
When piranha are done, they leave bones. The domovoi do not.
Laureus digs his fingers deeper into the pit’s wall of dirt and climbs faster.
Finally, at the top edge, Laureus heaves himself up and over and takes the
scroll from his mouth.
Four, then five, blue-haired, blue-bearded domovoi emerge from the pit,
and their eyes lock on the scroll. The closest holds out a hand, puffs his orange
chest.
Laureus waves the scroll. “Damn it, Papa Pip, it’s me, Laureus. I’ve been
down in the pits a thousand and one times. I took this for Professor Stone, I’ll
bring it back.”
Papa Pip still holds out a hand, cheeks an angry red, his mouth flashes
rows of razor-sharp teeth. Teeth meant for tearing, slashing, slicing, and thick
enough to gnash and grind bones. Laureus’s bones.
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