Bigfootloose and Finn Fancy Free Read Online Free PDF Page A

kid transferred from the fourth grade into an advanced high school class mid-semester and told there was a quiz on Everything next week.
    Father sat at his own desk, beneath a window overlooking Mother’s garden, or at least the wild tangle it had become now that nobody tended it. Bits and scraps covered his desk, including pieces of broken watches, a variety of crystals and stones, a small collection of polished bones from creatures both mundane and magical (purchased legally, not taken from our customers, of course), and the pieces of an old Robotix set. I’d donated or purchased a lot of the materials, and borrowed the rest from the piles of junk left in Dawn’s yard by her artist ex-boyfriend.
    Once upon a time, Father had been a skilled thaumaturge, an inventor and creator of magical artifacts. Married into a family of necromancers, he’d used that skill to create many artifacts that allowed our family to compete with other necromancer families who had more money or influence, artifacts like the Kin Finder 2000; or like the Podium of Politeness, which enhanced a speaker’s ability to say nice things about even the most wretched or boring deceased with full (if temporary) sincerity and belief, making the speaker feel rather good about themselves. He’d also made a number of smaller, non-magical objects he would sell to tourists in the shops on Water Street.
    Once upon a time. Before Grandfather used Mother’s ghost to forcefully possess my father and make him do horrible things, driving him mad in the process.
    Three months since Mother’s ghost had been exorcised, and no signs that it had helped Father’s madness. But he still had his ability to imbue artifacts with magic, and occasionally the inventor or artist in him peeked through the madness. I was doing everything I could to bring him out fully.
    â€œFinn!” Father said, looking up from his desk. “Finn Fancy, learn to dancey.”
    At Father’s loud greeting, Mattie quickly shut her laptop and looked at me as if caught looking at pornography—something her father apparently did on a regular basis according to our sister, Sammy, who refused to fix Mort’s computer any longer.
    â€œEverything okay?” I asked.
    â€œOkeemonkey,” Father said.
    â€œYeah,” Mattie replied. “All good. I was just checking Tumblr.”
    â€œTumbler. Right. That’s not, uh, something inappropriate for a young lady, is it?” I asked.
    Mattie rolled her eyes. “No.”
    I’d have to ask Sammy about it. “Okay. Well, I was hoping you could help me with this?” I held up the sheet from the Kin Finder with the line drawn across it. I could use the line in conjunction with Thomas Guide maps to identify where the line pointed to, but I’d never been good at it. “You said you found a better way to do it?”
    â€œSure!” She took the sheet from me and scanned it using the printer on the desk. “Uncle Finn?”
    â€œYeah?”
    â€œCould you talk to Dad? I’m worried about him.”
    â€œAbout what? His fashion choices? Because they worry me, too.”
    â€œNo, for reals. He’s been seriously moody lately. And sick a lot.”
    â€œHe’s not always like that?” I asked, surprised. In the three months I’d been back, I’d never seen Mort look particularly happy or healthy. The one time I’d tried to ask him about it, he’d told me to mind my own business.
    â€œNo. Well, he used to be better, anyway. But it’s been getting worse lately. And he didn’t used to stay in his room all the time. I tried to get him to tell me why, but he won’t.” Mattie finished scanning the document and then began doing something on her laptop.
    I could think of a number of possible reasons why Mort would hide in his room. He probably still resented my being back. Or maybe he was afraid Pete would bite him again now that Pete