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“You know,” Dewey said, as they wandered into the main archive, “this could be one of the side effects mentioned. It also could stem from the substitution of pixie dust and a normal rock.”
“Is it permanent?”
“No idea,” Dewey answered with a shrug. “As soon as we get back upstairs, I’ll research it.”
“Well, I suppose he’s less of a threat now, but I don’t know how I’ll explain this to my vet.”
“You could always–“ Dewey stopped when red lights began to flash.
A loud klaxon blared overhead. Across the space, a communication device sprang to life. A ticker tape spit from it.
Dewey glanced at Paige, his eyes wide and his lips pressed together. “Another case.”
CHAPTER 8
Paige nodded as her forehead pinched from the obnoxious noise and flashing red lights.
She shouted over the earsplitting alarm to be heard. “We really need a new way of announcing that.”
“Take the cat upstairs. I’ll grab the case info,” Dewey bellowed.
“Okay.” Paige gave him another nod as she cuddled the cat closer to her chest, her hand shielding his ears from the screeching noise.
She crossed the room away from the ticker tape machine toward Dewey’s nest and circled around it on the dozens of stairs to reach the top.
Paige pulled the now too-big bed for the cat nearer to her air mattress and set him inside. He toddled around, finding it difficult to walk on the fluffy material. After a few moments, he yawned widely and nestled down for a nap. Paige covered him with a blanket as Dewey buzzed into the room.
“We need to get a baby gate or something so he can’t roam around. He’s so tiny, I’m afraid he’ll get hurt or lost.”
“At least he can’t open my door anymore. He’s way too small for that,” Dewey said as he flew to his chaise with the ticker tape streaming behind him.
Paige shoved her hands into her pockets and raised her eyebrows at him. “So, what do we have this time? More werewolves?”
Dewey shook his head. His dark eyes scanned the tape as he held it out in front of him. “No, it’s worse than that.”
Paige collapsed into the armchair across from him. “Worse than werewolves?”
“‘Fraid so,” Dewey said and sucked in a deep breath. “W.O.D. S.P. Threat level: Purple. Threat credibility: Medium-High. Retrieval priority: High. Requested library facility: Shadow Harbor.”
Paige wrinkled her nose at the cryptic message as her mind recalled the last one they’d received. It had indicated the closest library facility, not the requested one, and the threat level had not been a color. “What?”
Dewey let the long, thin strip of paper fall into his lap, his nose horns wiggling as he considered it.
Paige continued with her query. “What is a purple-level threat? Last time, it said high. And why does it say requested not closest library? And what in the world is a W.O.D.? Another duplication thingy?”
Dewey shook his head and balled his fist. “I’d bet my life it’s the Wand of Division.”
Paige drummed her hands against the chair’s arms. “And I’m guessing this thing doesn’t help kids with long division.”
Dewey shot her an unimpressed stare. “What do you think? Do they even do long division anymore? What century do you live in?”
“One where I learned long division in school and wished I had a wand that would do it for me.”
“Sorry, we still can’t help you with that. No, the Wand of Division doesn’t help with anything mundane. If it actually exists, which is what makes me think is the reason behind the purple threat level, it has the power to literally divide things.”
Paige flitted her gaze around as she tried to make sense of his comments. “Divide things as in…”
“As in here’s Paige.” He waved his hand up and down Paige’s length. “Zap! Here is Paige divided in half.”
