“Chapter 8I hurried home to tell Gus about the strange guy at the restaurant and the weird lightning storm. When I got there, Gus was out in the back yard, laying on a blanket on the snowy ground. He was bundled in a parka and ski mask, and surrounded by a giant circle of jar candles, pushed into the snow.As I got closer, I noticed Gus’s eyes were closed and he was humming and waving his gloved hands. “What are you doing?” I asked.“Weather magic,” he said, opening one eye. “Either I thaw Grundle...shanks out in the house, or I need warm weather.”“Wait until summer.”“Bite your forked tongue. Patience is not a good color on me. I want that toad bone and I want it now.”I sighed. “You do realize that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction, right? That’s got to be even more massive when it comes to weather.”“Hush, woman. You’re interrupting a genius at work.” He sat up. “Would you tell Michaelangelo his ceiling mural could be mistaken for graffiti?MoreLessRead More Read Less
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