Broken Dragon (The Chronicles of Mara Lantern, Book 3) Read Online Free PDF Page B

branches reached into the clear blue sky, allowing the bright sun to stream through. The entire character of the block looked different.
    Mara’s heart pounded as she made the last right turn onto Abby’s block, although not because of exertion from pedaling up the inclined roads. The house was just half a block ahead, and she still didn’t know what to say to Abby’s father. But she did know she couldn’t live with herself if she didn’t at least show some concern.
    Looking ahead, Mara eyed the olive green mailbox with big black numbers, 2-5-7, crookedly displayed on its side. She and Abby had painted it in third grade. It sat next to the short driveway in front of the house. As Mara approached, an old blue-and-white Ford pickup backed out and into the street, its tailgate turning away, so the front of the truck faced Mara.
    There, behind the wheel, was Mr. Gibson, Abby’s father. His eyes widened with recognition when saw Mara. Smiling, he waved, honked his horn and drove away. He didn’t look like he had a care in the world.
    Odd.
    Mara stared after the truck, until it turned at the end of the block. Once it was out of sight, she looked up at the house. The edge of a curtain hanging in the wide window next to the front door swayed for a second. But there was no light coming out. Of course it was a bright sunny day, so why would there be? She told herself Mr. Gibson probably caused the curtain’s motion when he closed the front door, even though she knew he most likely went out the side door, the one that led from the kitchen to the garage.
    Standing over the bicycle at the curb, she stared at the curtain for several seconds. It did not move again. Sitting back down, she pushed off the curb and pedaled up the driveway. Leaving the bike on its kickstand in front of the garage doors, Mara walked up the concrete walkway to the front door. Pausing for a second to listen, she heard nothing inside and jabbed a finger into the lit doorbell. She heard the familiar two-toned bell inside but didn’t sense any movement.
    Still, she had the feeling someone was there.
    Only two people live here.
    She knocked on the door. “Abby? Are you in there?”
    Nothing.

CHAPTER 6
     
     
    Sitting at the desk in her bedroom, Mara stared into the screen of her laptop. After checking her email and finding none—no surprise since normal people were celebrating Thanksgiving, not worrying about their gadget repairs—she found herself randomly entering words into a search engine and not getting any meaningful results. She entered aphotis and saw nothing relevant, and so typed in darkling wraith and metaphysics and realms . All returned something, but nothing relevant to her current concerns. Soon she realized she wasn’t reading the screen, just entering random words and hitting Return.
    Sitting back, she tapped the Power button and folded the monitor over the keyboard. Behind the laptop, she spotted the small leather book her niece had brought from the future. She picked it up, again amazed at the heft of it. Running her hands over the grain of the leather cover, she turned it over and looked at the back. Just more grain. Opening the front cover, she stared at her own handwriting: The Chronicle of Continuity . The paper looked old and worn, dry and brittle, brown at the edges. It had tiny lumps and fibers running through it; imperfections you didn’t see in modern stationery. Oddly the words appeared to be written with a ballpoint pen. Modern words written on ancient papyrus, almost an affront to the title, a visual discontinuity.
    Why would I have a five-year-old bring a blank book to me from the future?
    Book in hand, she stood and walked out of the room.
    Downstairs she found Hannah, flapping her dragon wings, pacing in a circle in front of the fireplace, tracing the outline of the circular throw rug on the floor.
    “Hey, dragon girl, you look like you’ve plumped up since the last time I saw you,” Mara said, taking a seat on the