A Contemporary Fantasy Book Series
Chronicles Of Zofia Trickenbod by Lorelei Bell
Series Excerpt
The gratifying aroma of brewing coffee, and what smelled like blueberry pancakes, greeted Zofia as she made her way down the flight of stairs the next morning. Zofia transvected through the dining room and into the kitchen. Landing gently in a ladder-backed chair, she hummed her euphoria. “Good morning, Tillie. That smells marvelous!”
“Morning, child,” Tillie said. She stood guard over the sizzling electric griddle where several puddles of pancakes browned and sent up heavenly scents. A spatula flipped one of the pancakes over, as if of its own accord. Either Tillie had magicked the spatula, or Biddle was wielding it. At the same moment, a jug of milk and carton of orange juice floated out of the refrigerator. That answered who had flipped the pancakes.
“Good morning, Biddle,” Zofia said as the orange juice and milk landed smoothly onto the table.
“Yes, it is, Madam Zofia,” Biddle said.
“You sleep well?” Tillie asked Zofia.
“No one ever asks me if I had a good night’s sleep,” Biddle complained bitterly.
Zofia eyed the space where she guessed Biddle occupied. “Okay,” Zofia said. “How was your night, Biddle?”
“Dreadful!” he croaked. “Squirrels kept me up all night.”
“You shouldn’t steal their nuts.” Tilly flipped a pancake. “What about you?” Tillie slid a glance Zofia’s way.
“I think I had another dream about the black unicorn,” Zofia said.
“Like the one the other night?”
Zofia sat in thought a moment. “No, this one didn’t have Blood in it.” Who knew where he could be now?
She frowned recalling her dream and she remembered certain scenes enough to put it together. “I think I was standing in a shop. Our shop—maybe—and the unicorn was trying to tell me something was wrong. A warning of some sort.” She gazed across to Tillie. A chill crept up her back and spiked the hairs at the nape of her neck. “I held him in my hands, he was so small.”
“Who was, dearie?”
“The unicorn.”
“That’s very odd. This couldn’t be a dream of portent as that can’t happen in real life,” Tillie said confidently, flipping another pancake. The pan sizzled and the aroma of blueberries filled the house.
“No. I suppose you’re right,” Zofia said, gazing unfocused across the room. The dream was too fuzzy to recall. Maybe Tillie was right. It meant nothing and she could forget it.
The phone jangled her out of her thoughts. She jumped from her chair and answered it.
“Hello?”
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