How to Stop a Witch by Bill Allen Page B

hold of Ruuan. Figured it was just a matter of time before you came looking for me. But what do you want with Dad and Melvin?”
    Melvin frowned. “Why wouldn’t they want me? I’m a legend.”
    Your brother must be very proud, Greg thought, not for Melvin’s status as a living legend, but for his legend-worthy bragging skills.
    “Of course you are,” said Edna, “and so is your father.”
    “Sure, but he’s like a thousand years old.”
    “He’s not. He only looks that way.”
    “Thank you, dear,” said Norman. “Like I said before, I’ll get my cloak.”
    “But . . .” Greg found he could barely maintain the energy to stand. “I haven’t slept in days. I thought we were going to stay the night.”
    “Oh, I think that’s a splendid idea,” Edna said, pulling her youngest son’s head to her bosom. Melvin struggled to escape, but he was no match for his mother. Good thing she wasn’t a dragon, Greg thought, or Melvin would have shown her what a real hero could do.
    Kristin cleared her throat. “That’s Kristin, like in piston, but with a ‘Kr’ instead of a ‘P.’ Get it?”
    Marvin clearly had no idea what Kristin was talking about. The look on her face caused him to take a quick step back.
    “Sit down, everyone,” insisted Mrs. Greatheart. “You should eat.”
    By Greg’s count, they were at least two chairs short. Mordred wasn’t interested in sitting anyway. He paced back and forth throughout the meal, though as small as the room was, he looked to be just twirling about. Norman gave up his seat as well. Greg suspected he wanted to join the others but couldn’t get his knees to cooperate. In the end, Marvin had to carry him to the living room sofa, where he could lie flat with his feet hanging above the edge of the kitchen table.
    When Marvin returned, the only empty chair was next to Kristin. He chose instead to stand, hovering over the table while Edna served up piping hot bowls of stew.
    “Out of the way,” Edna scolded. She pushed past Marvin to place a steaming bowl in front of Greg. Marvin squeezed his massive form in behind her, only to end up in her way again when she tried to retreat. “My word, always under foot. Would you go sit down?”
    “But Mum—”
    “Don’t argue with your mother. Now sit.”
    Marvin pulled in his stomach, nearly launching Edna into the kitchen with his expanding chest. “Sorry, Mum.”
    “Who’s your friend?” Melvin asked Greg, his eyes fixed upon Kristin’s cheek. Kristin continued to stare at Marvin, trying her best to ignore the younger Greatheart, much the same way the older Greatheart tried to ignore her.
    “Her name is Kristin,” Priscilla told him, “and stop staring. You’re making her uncomfortable.”
    “I’m not staring,” said Melvin.
    “Yes, you are,” Kristin said without looking his way. Edna placed a steaming bowl in front of her. “Thanks. This smells good. What is it?”
    “Fresh wyvern stew,” said Edna.
    “Wyvern?”
    “They’re kind of like small dragons,” Melvin said helpfully.
    Kristin grimaced and pushed the bowl aside. “Ugh, no thanks.”
    Greg made a show of eating a large spoonful. “Try it. It’s delicious.”
    “I don’t think so.”
    Melvin leaned forward to draw Kristin’s attention. She promptly turned the other way. “I can get you an ogre patty from out back,” he told the back of her head.
    “Yuck.”
    “Are you sure you don’t want to try some stew, dear?” Edna asked. “You don’t want to go to bed hungry.”
    “Yeah,” said Lucky, “we haven’t eaten all day.”
    Kristin regarded her bowl as if it might suddenly sprout limbs. She picked up her spoon and dipped it cautiously, withdrew a morsel barely large enough to see, and guided it toward her lips. The others looked on expectantly.
    “Hey, this is good.”
    “There now, glad you like it,” Edna said with a smile. She turned then and started toward the kitchen, frowning at Marvin, who was trying his best to blend in