Read Online The Magician's Tower by Shawn Thomas Odyssey - Free Book Online

mind with boredom. This was information every five-year-old born on Dark Street could recite. She heaved an exasperated sigh.
    â€œPatience,” Deacon whispered in her ear.
    â€œIt was Oswald the Great,” the tour guide continued after patting his forehead with a handkerchief, “the most powerful of the Magicians of Old, who is credited with closing the Glass Gates and severing the two worlds completely.”
    The guide pointed at a painting to his right, and Oona thought she could hear the creak of the old man’s bones.
    â€œAnd here is a portrait of Oswald’s famous magic wand, painted by the equally famous painter Bernard T. Slyhand. It was Slyhand himself who stole Oswald’swand and then afterward sent this painting to Oswald, along with a ransom note demanding a great deal of gold.” The old man lowered his hand to a glass-encased piece of red parchment below the painting. “Oswald never received the painting, or the note. In fact, Oswald was never seen again. No one knows what became of the mighty magician, just as no one knows what became of the stolen wand—though legend has it that the wand itself is the only key to the Glass Gates.”
    Oona felt like she might scream. Who cared about Bernard T. Slyhand and this stupid painting of Oswald’s wand? Especially when Isadora Iree was out there right now, victory in her grasp. Glancing around at her fellow competitors, she saw that Roderick Rutherford appeared just as bored as she was, though Mr. Bop, who was standing closest to the old tour guide, appeared rapt with attention.
    Adler’s and Oona’s eyes met. He gave a little yawn, followed by a barely discernable smile.
    â€œAnd that,” said the tour guide, “is the end of our tour. For those in the contest, I’ve been instructed to give you each one of these. You are to take it to the tower.”
    He reached into his pocket and slowly removed a handful of golden tokens, holding them out in a shaky open hand.
    â€œWe hope you enjoyed this trip through history,” hesaid, his voice aquiver with age, “and if you have any questions, I would be more than happy to answer—”
    But Oona didn’t hear the rest of what the old tour guide had to say. She snatched a token from his hand and bolted for the front entrance so quickly that Deacon leapt from her shoulder and followed by flight.
    â€œNo running in the …,” the security guard called after her as she banged through the front door. She could hear Roderick and Adler hot on her heels as she plunged down the front steps, and then darted up the sidewalk in the direction of Oswald Park.
    â€œHere I come, Isadora,” she said under her breath.
    Her shoes pounded the pavement, weaving through clusters of confused-looking pedestrians, many of whom clasped red flyers in their hands. Lungs beginning to burn, she sprinted up the sidewalk with all the speed she could muster. To her left, the iron fence separating the park from the street flew by, seemingly endless. Oona had never realized just how large the park was. Twice she nearly tripped on her skirt. At the park entrance she could feel herself beginning to slow, and by the time she reached the first row of oak trees, Roderick had overtaken her lead.
    â€œBloody dress!” she said through her ragged breath, though she knew that it was not simply the dress that was slowing her, but that Roderick was stronger and faster.
    Stronger physically
, she thought to herself as they cut across the grass toward the tower.
But stronger mentally? I think not
.
    She could hear Adler Iree clomping across fallen leaves behind her, but as they neared the tower, Oona was fairly certain she was going to beat him. Roderick was the first to clamor up the steps to the stage, where the architect stood patiently waiting. There was no sign of Isadora.
    â€œHere!” said Roderick, slapping his golden token into the architect’s