CHAPTER 11Missing Mystics and Vanishing Beasts
“Calm down? I get word that some strange, possessed seashell nearly burned my son’s arm off and you expect me to be calm about it?”
Monte’s eyes shot open at the sound of his father’s voice. He squinted, his cheek sore and tender, as the morning light poured through the living room window. His arm throbbed beneath the bandages. Someone had tucked a pillow behind his head and a fuzzy blanket engulfed his body. His shoes sat neatly in front of the hearth where the remaining cinders glowed from beneath cracked black skin.
“Shush, Esca. You’ll wake the boys.” Mrs. Darrow’s voice drifted from the kitchen.
Mom and Dad are back? Monte heaved himself from the armchair and tiptoed past a heap of quilts on the couch. Garrick’s hair poked out from th
