4
“How much longer do you suppose we’ll have to be out here?” asked the Spriggan.
“Until we’ve covered the grounds, I guess,” said Milo. “I would rather be doing this than tending to the bayard, though.” The Spriggan grunted in agreement.
They had rushed past Alfie and Cynric’s workshop, out of fear that there might be another explosion from a potion gone wrong, which was common place these days. A bit of rustling from Knoxby’s shack had put them on guard, but it turned out to be nothing more than a mouse hidden in the bushes. They were about a mile away and had just reached the base of the hill when the Spriggan stopped and grabbed Milo’s arm. The Spriggan’s yellow eyes were wide with fear. He lifted his nose in the air and sniffed wildly. “What is it?” whispered Milo. “I-I don’t see a
