The Magic Half by Annie Barrows Page A

moist, splintery sound as it plunged into something under the surface of the earth and stuck fast, and Miri let out a breath she hadn’t even known she was holding. She knelt to scratch away the dirt, and her heart began to gallop wildly, because she saw that the shovel had cut into a rotten board just below the soil. It was an old piece of barn floor, the wood nearly decayed—all she needed to do was shove up the edge over there, and pull it away from the chunk of gray brick that held it in place. Once more, she turned to look up at the spot where she thought the loft had been. If she had remembered the shape of the barn right, this was almost sure to be the place she had seen Horst digging.
    She burrowed her fingers into the earth until she found the bottom edge of the board, and then she yanked upward. The slimy wood slipped out of her hands and back into place. Miri took a deep breath, dug her fingers under the edge of the wood again, and heaved upward. This time it came. With a squealing creak, the board pulled away from the gray brick and toppled over.
    Underneath was a hole. It wasn’t a big hole, and weeds and spiderwebs and slug-things filled most of it, but there in the middle was a metal chest the size of a shoe box.
    Miri sat back on her heels. It was Horst’s box. She had found it. She stared at the box, her breath coming in little pants. She had found it.
    The glasses. Were they inside?
    She couldn’t stand to look.
    She couldn’t stand not to look.
    Miri forced herself to reach into the hole and lift out the box. Then she paused for a moment, gathering courage. The black metal was rusted through in some places, and its clasp hung uselessly by a single nail. There was no lock. Slowly, she stretched out her hand and opened the lid. A wet, rotting smell rose up, and the first thing she saw were several large, bug-eaten brown lumps that had probably once been paper. Then the glint of metal caught her eye, and, poking the lumps to one side, she found a little collection of jewelry. Horst’s loot. There was a tarnished watch, the kind you wear on a chain; a ring with dark red stones; two gold lockets; a cameo pin; and a gold bracelet.
    “The pink gold bracelet,” she whispered, though it didn’t look especially pink.
    But where were the glasses? Miri prodded the brown lumps again and then pulled them out, looking for the shine of glass. They had to be here. They had to be here. With the first sharp prick of desperation, she picked up the box and shook it.
    Something rattled.
    There was another bottom. Miri yanked at the top tray and it gave way, breaking into pieces in her hands. And, underneath, was Horst’s most secret secret: a small rectangular metal box. Miri snatched at the box and wrenched it open. There, lying calmly on a piece of yellowed cloth, was a pair of eyeglasses. One of its thin metal rims held nothing, but the other encircled a fragile lens. Just one. But one was all she needed. “Oh boy,” Miri whispered. “Oh boy oh boy oh boy.” With exquisite caution, she turned the delicate frames over. The lens was clear and unbroken. It was perfect. It even looked magic. Okay, not really. But she knew it would work. She had found her ticket to Molly, and all she had to do was keep it safe. She placed the glasses back in the case and hugged it to her. “Okay,” she assured herself. “Okay, okay, okay. I’m almost there.”
    Her thoughts were running around like hamsters, and she tried to collect them. What’s next? Okay. Next, I have to get my new glasses so we can come back. Tomorrow at noon. Noon. Okay. She tried to breathe calmly. “I’ll be there as soon as I can, Molly.” I hope that’s soon enough, said the voice in her head. She chewed on her knuckles, thinking. Molly either hadn’t found or hadn’t taken Horst’s stash. Maybe that means she didn’t run away. Maybe that means he killed her, the voice whispered. Shut up, she told it.
    “On your mark! Get set!” It was Ray,