“Oh, all right.” Coralis tapped a pale wand the size of a pencil against the urn. “Go!”

The room immediately erupted in a flurry of snakes and rats of all sizes. “Guess I was overdue for a little housecleaning after all,” he said dryly.

“I think you are right. And it’s good that I am not doing the cleaning,” Gretchen said with a nervous tremor, stepping up on a workbench.

Activity in the room settled down quickly, the snakes proving to be remarkably efficient. When Gretchen finally turned her attention back to Coralis, he was deep in thought. He rubbed his hands as if fraught with worry. “What will you do now?” she asked him.

“It doesn’t take a genius to see what’s happening, but it does take a fool to ignore it.” He picked up the jar with the giant leeches inside. “I have had my head buried in the sand. This letter … ” He gently laid it on the workbench. “This is no coincidence. I knew it the second I touched the envelope. That falcon is five steps ahead of me, and it’s time I caught up.”

He put the jar down. “You’ve heard stories about the powers possessed by the seventh son of a seventh son?”

Gretchen nodded warily.

“Well,” he said with a short laugh, “in this case, I can do you one better.” Then his tone turned serious. “Young Henry is not your average boy. The Leach bloodline is strong, and he is the son of the seventh generation of Wandmakers on his father’s side … and his mother’s side, too. In our world, it is the equivalent of being a musical prodigy. He will have been born with exceptional skills. Whether or not he has the strength of character to use them wisely … ”

He slapped both palms flat against the workbench and turned to Gretchen, his face filled with grim determination. “Please fetch that confounded falcon. It’s time for Master Leach to discover what he can do, and I have just the items to give him a proper nudge. Our feathered friend has a delivery to make.”

Gretchen saw the spark in his eyes that she hadn’t seen in too many years. “It’s about time.”

Chapter Four

Henry hopped from the bottom step of the school bus to the curb. He casually took a few steps to the left. Then, as the bus began to roll by, he quickly reversed direction. Two ripe tomatoes and the remnants of a PBJ sandwich flew past his ear.

The back half of the bus cackled with laughter, led by none other than Billy Bodanski. “Leach the freak!” they chanted in unison.