"That was weird," Malcolm said as I shut the door behind us and locked it—more because it made me feel better than for protection.
"Yeah." I dropped my backpack on a bench in the foyer. "Is it supposed to storm?" I looked outside to see big, fat snowflakes flying through the air, already dusting the ground. "I guess so," I answered my own question.
"Thunder and snow—that usually means we're going to get a lot of it. It's rare, but not unheard of," Malcolm said, but we both knew this was not just a simple, unusual weather phenomenon.
The wind picked up, and the snowflakes swirled in the air. The sight was beautiful, but I struggled to appreciate it, filled with apprehension. That laughter in the thunder—it sounded familiar. I'd heard it earlier, in the library. Which meant that whatever I'd encountered was no longer confined. Somehow, it had escaped. I sighed, deciding to tell Malcolm about the ordeal. He listened intently, his eyes widening.
"Duncan said—well, the piglet Duncan said—that it was feeding on negative energy."
"Like anger?"
"I don't know, not for sure. But I know I knocked it back by sending a positive energy wave. Maybe we can kill it with kindness." I sighed. I wondered what could have strengthened it since then.
"So you have the book?" he asked.
"I do," I replied. "I thought it might hold some clues as to what that thing was, but maybe I should have just left it." I was afraid I'd inadvertently unleashed something terrifying—something tied to the book. "I'm really wondering if I should have just left it alone."
"I can't believe you went back for it," he shivered. "You're braver than I am."
"Or stupider," I said, with a half-smile. "But I'm not taking it back now."
We walked into the main part of the house, a huge open space with a giant staircase leading to the second floor, where all the bedrooms were. The house was quiet; my parents were probably still working. They both worked at the hospital, performing healing spells for humans. My brother was playing a video game—I could hear the annoying background music coming from his room.
Melinda came walking out of the kitchen with a plate of cookies that looked like they belonged on a battlefield—fallen soldiers in my sister's war with baking. They were in pieces, not one of them a shape resembling round. She saw us and stopped, a smirk on her face. I gave her a warning look.
She didn't heed the warning, of course.
Melinda's eyes sparkled with mischief. "I didn't know you had a boyfriend," she said, giggling. "Want a cookie?"
"Melinda, this is my friend Malcolm," I said. "He was nice enough to give me a ride home today—I left early. So I invited him to stay for dinner."
"Hi, Melinda," Malcolm smiled at my sister. She handed him one of her strange cookies. He took a bite. "These are actually pretty good," he said. I took one, and he was right.
"Never judge something on looks alone," Melinda said with a grin. "You're cute," she said to Malcolm.
"Melinda!" I hissed, watching poor Malcolm turn bright red.
"Well, he is," she giggled. "We got let out of school early because of the storm coming in."
"I was wondering why you were both here. I didn't even know it was supposed to storm."
"Nobody did," Melinda shrugged. "It wasn't forecast. It just blew up unexpectedly and started dumping snow. They said it's barely moving."
My heart dropped, and Malcolm and I exchanged a look. His face returned to its normal color, and his eyes held concern.
Thunder rumbled again, making us all jump. "That's weird," Melinda said, with a frown. "I've never heard thunder during a snowstorm."
We rushed to the window to look out. The snow was piling up even higher, already covering the brown grass.
"That's so pretty," Melinda said. "Look at the big fat snowflakes!"
"It is pretty," I said nervously. "I think we're going to go look at the weather reports. Melinda, stay inside, OK?"
"Why? I want to have a snowball fight!"
I sighed. I didn't want to scare her, but something about this storm had me on edge. Especially since it hadn't been predicted. "Because this storm is unusual and I want you to stay safe. Maybe when Mom and Dad get home."
"Fine," she said. "Have fun with your boyfriend!" She giggled. I shot daggers at her with my eyes.
I looked at Malcolm, who had a small smile on his face. "Your sister is cute," he said. "In a little kid kind of way."
"She would be so mad if she heard you say that. She's so excited to grow up."
We headed upstairs to my room. We had research to do. I had a feeling this storm was connected to the presence in the library. Until I could talk to my parents, all I could do was find out whatever I could from the only tangible evidence I had.
"I hope it's not too messy," I told Malcolm as I opened the door. He was the first guy I'd ever brought to my room. The storm had me on edge, but the butterflies in my stomach had his name all over them.