“You are, sir,” Henry added with a short laugh.

“Bahtzen bizzle!” Coralis turned abruptly and walked at a brisk pace, shouting over his shoulder, “Keep up if you expect to eat anything.”

“Henry, he was embarrassed,” Brianna said gleefully.

“I know! So who do you think Gretchen is?” asked Henry.

“Coralis and Gretchen sittin’ in a tree, k-i-s-s—”

“Shhh!” He clamped a hand over her mouth. Then he bent down to give her a light kiss on the nose. “But I think you’re right.” And they shared a private giggle as they scrambled to catch up.

“Whoa! What is that?” Henry ran ahead of Coralis, up several flights of stairs in a large open plaza. An enormous silver object—oblong, curved, and reflective—sat in the center of a paved area. “This is so cool!” He ran around it, then under and through the center, watching how his reflection distorted in the curves. “Look, Brianna!”

He took her out from his jacket and held her nose up to the surface. “Wow! What is this thing?”

“Did that mouse just talk?”

Henry gasped and quickly shoved Brianna back under cover. He’d been so caught up in his excitement that he’d forgotten about her predicament. Had he begun to accept it as normal? Regardless, the small boy standing next to him must have been there all along and Henry never took notice. “Um … no … of course not. Mice can’t talk.”

“I’m a hedgehog! And don’t be so rough!”

“That one does,” said the boy with a British accent. “Can I hold it? I’ve only seen talking mice in the movies, and Mum says they aren’t real.”

Henry thought wildly about how to escape from this. “It’s a … it’s a … ” Then it hit him. “I’m practicing to be a ventriloquist!”

“What’s that? I can hardly say the word. Ven-tri … ”

“Ventriloquist. I can project my voice without moving my lips so that it sounds like my stuffed toy is talking.”

Brianna squirmed angrily. “Stuffed toy? I’m your sister, Henry!”

“Wow! That was really good. Your mouth never moved. I’m Michael. Who are you?”

“Henry. And my stuffed … um, sister is Brianna.”

“Can I try her?” He smiled broadly and held out his hand.

“Henry, perhaps you can introduce me to your young friend.” Coralis’s reflection loomed up behind him, looking none too happy.

“My name is Michael. Are you a wizard?” He extended a polite hand in greeting, which Coralis shook.

“Why would you ask such a question, Michael?”

“Oh, I dunno. Guess you just kinda look like one. Maybe it has something to do with the talking mouse.”

Henry continued to watch the scene play out in the reflection rather than face the Wand Master.

“A talking mouse, Henry?”

Henry attempted to speak several times, but was truly at a loss for words.