Oliver looked about the now empty pub. It was a complete mess.
“Let me fetch you a drink,” the barman stammered, staring fearfully at Oliver, Esther, and Ralph. His whole demeanor had changed since their show of power. His gruff attitude had been replaced by compliant terror. “Do you like mead?”
Oliver shook his head. “No. Thank you. Like I said in the first place, we just wanted to dry off.” He grabbed one of the fallen chairs. “We’ll fix this mess up for you then get out your hair.”
Esther straightened the paintings that were askew on the walls, while Ralph used his powers to put the splintered table back in one piece. The whole while the barman watched them with a look of terror frozen on his face.
Suddenly, the doors to the inn burst open. Oliver turned to see what was happening. A group of people were standing in the doorway, silhouetted against the rain. They were brandishing clubs and flaming torches.
Oliver sighed. “Not again.”
“We heard there were witches!” the leader brayed, stomping into the inn.
The others followed him inside and Oliver got a clearer view of the weapons they were brandishing. One was holding chains with balls on the end, another nunchucks. A third wielded a nasty-looking club with bits of sharp metal sticking out of it. Oliver didn’t like the idea of being on the receiving end of that.
The leader of the peasant pack looked at the barman. He was still trembling, his fearful gaze locked on the three children.
“No… no witches,” he stammered, clearly too scared of an imagined retribution to admit it. “Just some kids.”
The group of vigilantes looked suspiciously at Oliver, Esther, and Ralph. Oliver tried to make his face look as innocent as possible. He really didn’t want to get embroiled in another fight.
But suddenly, a large boom sounded out from behind him. Oliver flinched at the noise. He saw the expressions on the faces of the vigilantes immediately turn to horror.
Oliver twirled on the spot to see what was happening behind him. To his dismay, a swirling black and purple vortex was growing in the middle of the room.
“A time portal!” Esther cried.
Oliver staggered back, bumping into the vigilantes who moments earlier had come to fight but were now fearfully entranced by the growing portal.
“Do you think Professor Amethyst sent it for us?” Ralph asked.
But Oliver shook his head. This wasn’t right. He felt a horrible sense of approaching doom.
Suddenly, from the vortex, people started to emerge, marching confidently into the inn. It was a group of kids. They were all around the same age as Esther, Ralph, and Oliver, and they were wearing black uniforms.
Oliver gasped as he realized that this must be the pack of students Ralph had told them about who attacked the school. Not an army but a group of school kids.
Then something so unexpected happened Oliver could hardly get his head around it.
The last figure to emerge through the portal muscled his way through the pack of kids until he was standing at the front. It was someone Oliver thought he’d never see again. It was none other than his brother, Chris.
“Hello, Oliver,” Chris said menacingly. “Surprised to see me?”