Chapter 35
The next one was a weirder mix. In among “Visit scenic Maine” guides were tax returns and some old family photos and a box of Christmas ornaments. Dale was about to toss the plastic bag of ornaments back in the box for disposal when a tingling, or maybe that was closer to a buzzing sensation in his fingers got his attention. Taking magic lessons from a dragon had its uses.
He opened the bag and plucked one of the ornaments out. It was glass, transparent with an artistic rendition of an angel drawn inside a recessed depression. Touching the painted image produced a feeling of euphoria with a side order of dizziness, not completely dissimilar from being totally hammered drunk. He sat there staring at it for an unknown number of minutes before he finally drew his thoughts back together enough to set it on the floor. Whoa. That was no average antique ornament.
“Dale?”
He heard the soft pat of bare feet on the stairs and saw Riadh coming down them.
“Are you okay?” Riadh asked.