Bigfootloose and Finn Fancy Free Read Online Free PDF

really was a waerwolf, in retaliation for all the years Mort pretended Pete was a waerwolf as a prank.
    Or perhaps Mort was just busy breaking his computer again.
    Whatever the case, I couldn’t simply ignore Mattie’s request. And if something really was wrong, I couldn’t ignore that, either. Damn it.
    â€œI’ll talk to him.”
    â€œThank you. Here you go.” Mattie pointed at her screen. A little red dot showed on a map. Thankfully, it wasn’t on the other side of the world—a possibility I’d dreaded. Rather, it was right here in Washington State, and even on the Olympic Peninsula.
    â€œElwha River. Great! Can you print that for me?”
    As Mattie fussed with the printer, I went over to Father. I knelt down beside him and put one hand on his shoulder. “Hi, Father,” I said.
    â€œLook at that!” he said, his tone irritated, and pointed out the window at the wild remains of Mother’s garden. “Where are the flowers? All the flowers have died.”
    â€œWe had to prune, remember? So that Mother’s ghost couldn’t be used against you anymore?”
    â€œYour Mother’s going to be mad when she sees what happened to her garden.”
    â€œMother is—here, look at me, please.” I leaned over to catch his eyes. “What is my name?”
    â€œPhinaeus Gramaraye,” he said with a touch of his old humor, and I saw recognition in his eyes, like I’d suddenly come into focus. “Why, did you want to change it again?”
    â€œAgain?”
    â€œYes, you wanted to change it to Door at one point, remember?”
    Oh. That. I’d read several Xanth novels when I was around eleven, and for some crazy reason I’d briefly wanted to change my name to Dor. I’d also wanted a tattoo of Pee-wee Herman when I was fifteen. Thank the gods my parents had forbidden both. “Yeah, I remember that. I had my nose stuck in those books that whole summer. Remember when we went camping out by Forks that year, and I tried Talking to the spirit of all the inanimate objects—”
    Father thrust my old pocket-sized Simon electronic game into my hand. A plastic circle with four different colored push pads, it had been MacGyvered, or as I liked to call it, MacFathered. A small spirit trap sat secured in the center—another twisted metal puzzle that had no solution, with what looked like a bird’s skull in the center, all covered in runes—and crystals protruded from the push pads with copper wire attaching them to the spirit trap.
    Father’s eyes found mine, and I could see him making the effort to truly focus on me. “A gift.”
    â€œWhat does it do?” I asked as I took it.
    The left side of Father’s face twitched, and he said, “Over there, other there, criss-cross spirit sauce.”
    I sighed. I couldn’t make sense of his words, but Father had a small touch of prophecy, and when I’d returned from exile he’d gifted me the ring that made the Kin Finder locate true love. That gift, and a few seemingly mad words, had helped me to put an end to Grandfather’s plotting. So I held on to a growing collection of Father’s gifted objects for fear that the one I chose to dismiss as just a product of his madness would be the object that could save my life somehow.
    â€œThanks, Father.”
    Father blinked one eye spastically several times. “Edwin?” he said. “Where’s Father?”
    It was like a steel shutter slamming down over the window, cutting off the light. For a brief moment, my father had been back. And now, he was lost to me. Again.
    â€œI’m not your brother,” I said, my voice thick with sudden emotion. I cleared my throat. “I’m your son, Finn. Father, concentrate. Please.”
    Father waggled his finger at me. “Please and thanks, or you’ll upset the ranks.”
    He turned back to his desk and began picking up random