“Don’t be a fool!” Dai She snapped. “It’s nothing more than a passenger pigeon in disguise. What we need to find out is to whom he was delivering this precious cargo.” Dai She’s stubby fingers pinched his beak tightly. This time Randall did lash out. He quickly brought his talons up and raked at Dai She’s hand, drawing blood and a pitiful scream. “You idiot! Bind those wretched talons,” he shrieked.

Markhor cleared his throat. Was he laughing at Dai She? “As you wish.” Randall was firmly pinned to the ground by a large foot while hands deftly tied his talons. He was placed back in the trunk. “We should get going soon. We want to get to the caves before sunset.”

The lid slammed shut, sealing Randall with nothing but his thoughts, the foremost of which was: This is not going to end well.

Chapter Twenty

Coralis allowed Henry and Brianna to sleep on the train ride from Pittsburgh to Chicago. When Henry awoke, he saw that it wasn’t just for their benefit. Coralis’s head was bent at an unnatural angle against the windowpane, almost guaranteeing a sore neck.

With Brianna wrapped safely under the seat in a blanket, Henry took advantage of the clacking of railroad ties to stand without disturbing anyone and head for the nearest bathroom. The train rocked violently, knocking him off balance as he closed the door behind him, and he decided it would be much safer (and less messy) to sit than stand. But as he pulled his pants up, his wand tumbled from his pocket and rolled beneath the sink.

Henry froze. He had read about the lack of sanitation in public bathrooms. What might the contamination do to his wand? Several wild scenarios ran through his mind, ranging from accidentally spreading disease to unsuspecting travelers, to giving janitors the ability to see through walls.

Using a clean wad of toilet paper, he gingerly picked it up. The water was probably filtered, but just to be safe, he wet a small area of his pants and rubbed the wand against it—his theory being that at least the pants were connected to him.

He examined it in the unnatural light of the fluorescent bulb for any signs of cracks or damage. Not only was it his prized possession, but he needed to show Coralis he could be responsible. He was relieved to see the wand was intact, and he felt certain he’d done the right thing.

The mirror hanging over the sink was covered with a film of hazy grime and soap stains. He took the wad of toilet paper, dampened it, and wiped a small section of the surface—then gasped in shock. Right in the center of his chin was a large red pimple! How long had it been there? Why hadn’t anyone told him? And why hadn’t he noticed it sooner?