9
Another delay, thought Max. “We don’t have time for this,” he said, throwing up his hands. “Why can’t we just go around him?”
The Spriggan watched the Lumprotter attempt to wiggle its bottom out of the hole it made in the log. The more he moved, the larger the rotted area grew. The Spriggan through his arms out. “Step back.” The rot spread more. The lush, green grass where their feet had been, turned black and shriveled away. Flowers dotting the ground wilted and died.
Max jumped back an instant before it touched the tips of his sneakers. “Milo, can’t you do something?”
The Spriggan whipped around and grabbed handfuls of Milo’s shirt. “Do not use your magic.” He pointed at the rest of them. “Unless you wish to walk around with rotted magic, keep it to yourselves. The only way around
