Wednesday, May 6, 2020

Chapter Notes On The Enchanted Amulet - 1360 Words

CHAPTER SIX The Enchanted Amulet Clouds of chocolate-colored dust closed around us the next day like a throttling throw. â€Å"Off on another adventure, eh lad?† Cotton coughed, as he vaulted over a huge, tumbleweed. â€Å"And I don’t see a witch anywhere! This is exciting. Just you and me on a quest to discover the golden key.† â€Å"Yeah, I just hope we can find it. And the sooner the better. Hey this dust is killing me,† I choked. â€Å"I even have grit between my teeth.† â€Å"What’d you say? You’ve a pit beneath your wreath. Why?† I shouted. â€Å"Cotton get the dirt out your ears.† He leaned over and dump what seemed like a bucket full of sand out of each ears. â€Å"I even have grit between my teeth.† I repeated. He smiled and I saw a pebble wedge between†¦show more content†¦Didn’t I?† I racked my brain, then finally said, â€Å"I remember you talking about all kinds of stuff, but you never mentioned them.† He shrugged. â€Å"Ah . . . Maybe not. I’m not as young as I used to be. And I guess I’m a little absent-minded at times.† â€Å"How old—† â€Å"Aiden, look out!† Cotton shouted. From behind me I heard, †caw . . . caw . . . caw,† cries echoing across the sky. I ducked and watched hundreds of huge black birds fly over my head. â€Å"Where did they come from?† â€Å"Those are the witches watch dogs,† he explained. â€Å"They’re all over the place. They search the land and report back what they see.† â€Å"They’re creepy. Hey thanks, I owe you one.† Cotton nodded. â€Å"Let’s get out of here.† â€Å"But won’t they tell the witches where we are?† I asked him. â€Å"And . . . um, what if they send those spooky birds back to swarm around and peck at our heads . . . or something?† â€Å"Come on! We’re not going to let a bunch of dumb birds stop us. Letâ₠¬â„¢s just do what we have to do and we’ll be fine,† he said, picking up his pace. â€Å"Now let me see. You wanted to know how old I am, right? I haven’t thought about that in a while.† He started counting his fingers. Then he whipped off his little clogs and counted his toes. â€Å"I’m around four hundred and fifty-three years old, give or take a hundred years.† â€Å"That’s old!† â€Å"I guess. Anyway, back to my story. The problem is though, I don’t really know where to begin. I suppose it’s best to start at the beginning. Correct?† he

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