An antelope or a gazelle, tiny as a beetle, tumbled out of his coat sleeve and splatted on the floor below. Mister Bumblethorn studiously ignored this.
As soon as Alba was done, Madison seized the glass with two hands and drank steadily, her sharp breaths like puffs of a little steam engine. The Kool-Aid went fast.
The wizard’s calico daughter, Anya, was not a wizard. Oh, she could do magic; in fact, she often helped her father with his work. But she didn’t want to be a wizard, and her father didn’t want her to be one either.