CarryPhoenix

“Okay, number four, one more second counterclockwise… Yes!” Saroku Levi hissed, having heard the lock open, and put a chair under the door for it not to accidentally close. The local doors had quite fine locks, but that was everything fine here: the doors themselves were metal, but rusty, and Saroku hadn’t spotted any security cameras along the way. Even her father’s faithful tool, the Tick-Tock-Boom, had still not signaled about any observations, and Saroku was confident that the observation detection function was on. She pocketed the Tick-Tock-Boom (which most resembled a combination of a large pocket watch – it hardly fitted on Saroku’s palm – with eight hands of various shapes and a yo-yo) and strained her ears. Judging by the silence in the corridor, she was the only one who made an effort to get out: it was eerily quiet behind each and every door, and not because they were blocking most sounds. Not a single breath, rub of fabric against hard surface or step. Having

“Ow,” Kaster Tyler muttered, attempting to sit up. “Owwww,” he repeated, wondering why the ground beneath him was so hard. He had just now recovered from a… drop? Yes, most probably it had been a drop, and it must’ve been a miracle that the kid’s bones were still solid. When the dizziness was gone, Kaster gasped at the sight. He was in the middle of a – garden? Or maybe a forest? The strange thing was that all the trees, as well as the ground beneath him and rocks scattered around, seemed to be made of crystals. They were not angular, their outlines were just as smooth as those of normal trees, but still they were translucent and ever so slightly reflective. The second strange thing was the time of the day. Kaster could not see any kinds of sun or stars in the sky, but it was not dark. More like twilight, but nothing like that at the sunset or dawn. It was grey. Just enough for Kaster to see himself and everything around and at the same time not to cast shadows. The kid stood

Bernard Blink was almost confident that this time it would work. His sister Blanca knew what he was up to, so she passed the Quaffle to him over the head of Jameson Shamrock, and Bernard did a lightning-fast twirl, having reflected the ball right into the ring with the back part of his broom. “That was spectacular, Bernard, but at this rate all the rods of your broom will be broken very soon.” Ernesto Luna descended to him. “I don’t think that using the broom as a bat is better,” Bernard parried, having made Ernesto grunt in irritation. “The best improvisation is the planned one, don’t you think?.. Jameson, what are you doing? The Snitch could not have flown that far!” Jameson did not pay any attention to them, having flown high above the pitch and peered into the distance. “Here everyone! Something is coming!” he shouted. Indeed, something like a mini comet was approaching right to the pitch at breakneck speed – it wasn’t even possible to distinguish what it was. As