Chapter 4! Oh, and just as a note, I know the gang would be in high school now and wouldn't have Rotwood as a teacher, but frankly, Rotwood's more fun to write about and I really didn't feel much like making up a new teacher. We'll say he's like Mr. Feeny and just follows the main gang wherever they go, haha.
RRRIIIIINNNNGGGG
At the sound of the long-anticipated final bell, the students immediately grabbed their things and darted out of the classroom. Jake, however, reluctantly stayed seated, contemplating what form of seemingly-endless torture Rotwood could possibly be cooking up for him to endure during his detention. Trixie and Spud gave Jake one last hopeless glance, as if futilely wishing him luck, before also heading out the classroom door.
As the room finally emptied, Rotwood stood and strode over to a bookshelf in the back of the room. Jake watched him struggle with a particularly large, old-looking volume containing that which he could only speculate. With apparent difficulty, the teacher lugged the gigantic tome over to Jake and slammed it down on the desk in front of him, causing the confused student to jump slightly.
"What's this?" Jake asked curiously.
"This," Rotwood explained in a condescending tone, "is the extremely valuable and much-sought-after History of Mythology. It is the epitome of all things mythological, and contains everything you will ever want or need to know about magical and/or mythological creatures, spells, and other forbidden dark arts, and this very copy is one of the only remaining three in the entire world." Jake had a fleeting thought of whether or not this book was where Rotwood learned all he 'knows' about magical creatures. If so, then it needed a bit of an update. "Being as valuable as it is," Rotwood continued, lathering in his superiority in the fact that he had something his colleagues didn't, "many have, naturally, wished to purchase it from me. I, of course, have had to refuse, but, being the generous man that I am, I've offered to have the information in its pages copied and sold to them for a slightly lower cost. And that," he snapped, his voice returning to its usual manner as he glared down at the student before him, "is why you are here. You will spend the next two hours copying down every single word from this book onto separate paper."
Jake stared, shocked. "What? You gotta be—"
"And you will NOT complain!" the teacher finished, slamming a small stack of off-white parchment-paper on the desk and turning to walk brusquely back to his seat at the front of the room.
Jake grumbled unhappily, pulling the heavy book forward and opening it to the first page. On the inside front cover was a ridiculously long table of contents. Jake quickly scanned the alphabetical list, finding that most of the creatures he had never even heard of. Deciding not to waste time, he quickly flipped through the introduction and came to a halt at the A section. Jake groaned again. This is gonna be a long two hours…
After about one hour and forty-five minutes, Jake had only gotten through letters A through F, and some of the G section, and his hand was currently feeling as though it was ready to fall off from overexertion. He wasn't about to say a word, though; he knew Rotwood would just give him even more work to do. Instead, having just finished a particularly long entry, he turned the thick page slowly, ready to move on. He instantly forgot his previous troubles at that moment, however, at the sight of the title of the next creature entry: Gorgons. Also, to his surprise, there was a small, folded piece of paper stuck in the margin of the page. Jake thought briefly about notifying Rotwood, but decided against it. He was curious, after all. So, very discreetly, he picked up the piece of paper and unfolded it under the table, so as not to alert his teacher. Upon opening the small scrap of paper, Jake was surprised to see an old newspaper clipping, dated at about fourteen years ago. But what really startled Jake was the headline: Snake-haired criminal captured outside local village. Above it was a vivid picture of the exact gorgon from his dream the previous day.
Jake looked up briefly at Rotwood to make sure he wasn't watching, then eagerly returned his eyes to the clipping. He began reading the article, growing more and more unnerved at each word. The account of the creature's capture was described with detail, exactly how Jake had seen it in his dream. Apparently, the gorgon had been stealing from the town supplies, to feed her family, so she claimed. Of course the authorities didn't listen to her, and arrested her anyway. She tried to run later, but was accidentally shot and killed.
This new knowledge shocked Jake, to say the least. The event in his dream had actually happened? He didn't think it was possible. No way… he mused silently, a look of disbelief on his face. So now I'm… psychic or something? But no, I saw what happened in the past... That's different… Try as hard as he could, he couldn't wrap his mind around a logical solution to this unexpected conundrum.
"Mr. Long!" Rotwood snapped suddenly, bringing Jake abruptly back to reality. Realizing he had been staring at the article under the table for an indefinite period of time, he quickly shoved it into his pocket, hoping Rotwood hadn't noticed it. The sudden movement aroused some suspicion on the teacher's part, however, as his eyes narrowed in distaste. "Have you finished copying the book?"
Jake fidgeted uncomfortably. "No…"
Rotwood smirked. "Then it seems you will have to come back tomorrow, and each day following until you do."
Jake stood up suddenly, knocking his chair over backwards. Rotwood glared at him. "Say what? No way! I can't come back here every day! I'm… too busy with… other stuff!" Jake realized hopelessly that without a valid excuse, which he knew he couldn't give, his cause was sadly doomed.
"'Busy'?" Rotwood repeated in a tone dripping with sarcastic bitterness. "Well, I'm sorry to say that you will just have to make time for your other… activities." He paused. "Unless, of course, you'd like to tell me what you really have planned…?" he finished with an accusatory tone.
Jake sighed in defeat. "I'll be here."
The teacher smiled maliciously, though he still looked slightly disappointed. "Good. You may go. I will see you tomorrow at class."
Not wanting to go home and face his parents with this news, but at the same time wanting even less to remain in Rotwood's prison, Jake packed up his things hurriedly, constantly aware of the arrogant teacher's hawk-like eyes watching his every move, and headed swiftly out the door.
-0-0-0-
"You know, no matter how hard I try, these things never really do come clean."
Ebony laughed lightly at her father's futile attempts to rub a particularly stubborn stain off of one of their off-white dinner plates, the origin of which was unknown. "That's because you're not doing it right," she said playfully, taking the plate and wash cloth from his hand. "You've gotta rub in a back-and-forth motion, not a circular one." He rolled is eyes as she demonstrated. "It helps to use your fingernails, too."
Her father smiled. "Well, if you're so good at washing dishes, it can be your job from now on." In mock-fear, Ebony quickly set down the dish.
"That's okay, Dad. I think you were doing a wonderful job!" They both laughed as the older man picked up the plate and cloth again and scrubbed the stain as his daughter had said. She instead resumed the act of returning the clean dishes to their rightful place. When they finished, they sat down at the kitchen table together.
"Dad?" Ebony began. He looked over to her. "I was thinking of going on another walk tonight. You don't mind if I leave for a bit, do you?"
He smiled. "Of course not, Eb. In fact, I think I'll come with you." He started to rise, but Ebony jumped up faster.
"No!" she shouted suddenly, earning a confused look from her father. "I mean…" she tried to think of an excuse. "I, er… met a girl my age up the street yesterday and I… said I'd meet her at the park tonight." It wasn't a total lie; it just wasn't the whole truth.
Her father's confused look changed to one of pleased happiness. "You did? That's great, Ebony! A new friend on the first day in a new neighborhood? Wow. You go ahead. I'll stay here and work on painting upstairs."
Ebony sighed in relief. "Thanks, Dad. I'll see you later!" With that, she grabbed a black coat from the closet and headed out the door.
-0-0-0-
"It's past seven o'clock. How long must we wait?"
"Don't worry, Uncle. I'm sure the sender will be here."
The two annoyed Huntsclan members had arrived at the required destination at seven o'clock sharp, but their mysterious host had not been their. It was now almost seven thirty, and they where still the only ones there. The Huntsman was currently contemplating leaving, when a dark, hooded figure stepped out from the shadow beneath a tree.
"Who are you?" the hunter asked forcefully, pulling out his staff and readying for attack. The figure simply put up a hand.
"There's no need for that. I do not wish to harm you." The voice that spoke from beneath the hood was decidedly female, and probably no older then Huntsgirl. "I only wish to negotiate, as my letter said."
"Yes, but still I am no fool," the Huntsman replied, not lowering his weapon. "You understand."
The girl chuckled. "Of course," she replied in a humored tone. "Now, to business. You know what it is I want. The question is, what will you ask for in return for your services?"
The two Huntsclan members looked at each other briefly, then to their host. "Power."
"'Power'?" she repeated. "I'm afraid you'll have to be a little more specific."
The Huntsman thought about it. "You want our services, correct?" The girl remained silent. "Then you must pay our price. We want power, plain and simple. If you are incapable, then I'm afraid you will simply have to find someone else to help you." He turned to leave, knowing his answer would cause some sort of spark in their 'client'.
"No!" she shouted, her voice momentarily becoming hoarse and deep. The two hunters looked at her, alarmed, as she shot a seemingly anxious glance at the now setting sun. "I can help you, but I have only little time to talk. There is a book I will require, perhaps you've heard of it, History of Mythology. I know for a fact a copy resides in this very city, and when I obtain it I will have a better idea of what exactly I can do for you. Now, I expect you know of a dragon we can find…?"
The hunters looked at each other again, wicked grins spreading across their faces. "We do," the Huntsman replied, mind spinning with excited thoughts, but expression passive. "Tell me, have you ever heard of the American Dragon?"
BUM BUM BUUUUUUM! (ahem) Well, another short chapter, I know. But hey, this way they come faster, right? Yeah…
Lata much