The Longest Halloween, Book Three: Gabbie Del Toro and the Mystery of the Warlock's Urn. Frank Wood

night reading?” she asked, noting the glasses.

      “A bit, ma’am,” he replied.

      She sat two steaming bowls of mush at the table—one smallish but normal-sized and one, for Grawl, a much larger and heavier bowl.

      Grawl sat across from Gabbie at the table. Gabbie and Grawl had been friends forever, ever since she had rescued him from that mudslide when they were younger. It had been a pretty bad mudslide that had changed the whole topography of the Crescent, of which the city of Ghoulsville was one of the points. That mudslide had wiped out the entire troll city apart from Grawl. Gabbie’s father and Uncle Niall, on one of their Night Guard missions, had done the actual rescuing, but it had been Gabbie who had first spotted Grawl clinging for life in that mudslide. Grawl had lost his whole family. Thankfully, Gabbie’s family had taken him in.

      Though they were witches and warlocks, Gabbie took pride in the fact that her family was far more liberal-minded than others in the witches and warlock sect. You see, normally no one liked trolls, just for the fact that they were trolls. But Gabbie and her family felt that was wrong.

      Grawl had warned them that taking him in would bring them bad luck—he was prone to looking on the dark side of things—but the Del Toros would hear none of that. As fate would have it, things did not go so well for the Del Toros after they added Grawl to the family.

      “You’ve let Graymalkin out?”

      “Yes ma’am.” Graymalkin was the family’s dog, a monstrous Caucasian Shepard dog that looked more frightening than he actually was.

      “You have all you need?”

      “Yes ma’am,” Grawl replied.

      “Good enough then,” Mrs. Del Toro said, wiping her hands. “You need to eat and be on your way. I hope Grandmamma gets here soon; the twins’ll be stirring momentarily, I suppose.”

      “They were sleeping like the dead this morning, Mother,” Gabbie said, munching on a piece of toast.

      “Fly safely, Gabriella,” Mrs. Del Toro called over her shoulder as she headed back into the hallway, "and mind the canopy!"

      “Yes, Mother.”

      The canopy was a large, dome-shaped cover that fell over the whole of the town of Ghoulsville and stayed in place from eventide until dawn. Constructed by the Night Guard, it was designed to help keep the city safe. Since the arson at Pumpkin Hill and its mysterious implications, the town understandably had been on high alert, though against what or whom Gabbie had no idea.

      Grawl groaned. “I don’t suppose we’ve got time to walk, after all?” He hated to fly.

      “Oh Grawl, it’s not as if Ghoul School is that far away ... and my flying’s gotten a lot better.”

      Grawl groaned again.

      “Come on now,” Gabbie said, putting her plate into the sink. She grabbed her sweater and scrollsack—students at Ghoul School carried scrollsacks—and headed for the staircase that would take them to the rooftop deck where they would launch.

      Grawl drank down the rest of the contents of his big bowl and reluctantly followed Gabbie up the staircase to the roof, his scrollsack and gardening tools strapped across his broad back.

      Dodging through the twins’s flying apparatus (set up over the Del Toro home to assist in their flying lessons), Gabbie retrieved her broomstick from the family’s broom closet. The small, spindly broom shook with excitement as she removed it.

      “Hello, Elvira,” Gabbie said to the broom, as all brooms had names, “ready for some exercise?” The bristles of the broom shimmered in response.

      “Ready, Grawl?” Gabbie called over her shoulder as her adoptive brother straddled the broom behind her.

      “Not really,” he moaned and then asked, “are you sure this broom can hold me?”

      “Of course it can, Grawl,” Gabbie clucked. “Let’s go!”

      Grawl put his heavy head down onto Gabbie’s spine and started to yell at the top of his lungs.

      “Spider’s juice, Grawl, I haven’t even lifted off yet!” Gabbie scolded.

      “I know that! I’m just getting ready,” he returned.

      “Whatever!” she returned. Touching the tip of the broomstick, the two rocketed off the rooftop and immediately took a sharp nosedive to the streets below. Both Gabbie and Grawl yelled during the plummet until the broom shook forcefully and turned upward, back into the sky. As Gabbie and Grawl headed toward their school, Gabbie spotted her grandmother entering the airspace. They nearly collided.

      “Sorry, Grandmamma!” Gabbie called over her shoulder.

      “Have a good day, you two!” Grandmamma called back as she landed atop the Del Toro home.

      Oversight

      Abigail Del Toro flipped open the window that led out to the second story of the home. The blond-haired woman in sleek black, the one Gabbie had seen last night, was there.

      “You need to be more careful,” Abigail told her in a direct tone. “Gabbie saw you last night.” Abigail handed the other woman a parcel wrapped in black tape.

      “I’m sorry for that,” the woman replied, taking the parcel. “I’ve been more distracted than normal.” Her voice gave her away as being much younger than her height and bearing would indicate.

      “Very well. We appreciate your oversight,” Abigail said.

      “He’s due for liberty today, isn’t that right?”

      “Yes,” Abigail said, “though I would keep a low profile. All eyes are on him these days. And despite your cloaking, you’d be a valuable target.”

      “I understand,” the woman said. “Thanks for the meal.”

      She alighted her broom as Abigail heaved a deep sigh.

      Work Study

      Gabbie rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Grawl, that’s not how the story goes, you know that!”

      “What’s wrong with a little dramatic license every now and again?”

      “It would be fine if you didn’t change up everything!”

      “You’re just mad because I beat your boy toy to the final punch.”

      “I am not. And he’s not a boy toy!”

      Grawl snorted in derision.

      “Do you want to go again?” Gabbie asked, her eyes flashing. “Your defenses are getting better, Grawl. You’re learning to use less brute force and be more agile.”

      “The keys are still too small for my fingers,” he complained. “They should make these controllers in troll size."

      “You’re probably right about that,” Gabbie agreed, regarding his huge hands.

      “Anyway, it’s getting late, Gabbie, and I’ve still got the whole south lawn to get done.”

      Grawl’s job as part of the work-study program was to care for the elaborately manicured lawns of Ghoul School. It was a natural thing. As a troll, Grawl had special life-affirming abilities when it came to the earth, a fact not often known about trolls. Gabbie was assigned parlor and indoor work, polishing and vacuuming. She could use her witchly powers, but it would be charged against her magical cache. Every witch- and warlock-in-training was given a cache of how often and how much they could use their powers. Any excess was taken from their stewardship, though it could be made up with extra credit. Students who were older and further along in their training tended to have larger caches. As a troll, and without magical powers per se, Grawl