Max Hamby and the Emerald Hunt, Book 2

Chapter 1

"Save some pancakes for us and be sure to take care of your mom and grandma, Milo."

His father's last words as he and his grandfather shuffled out the door. Today was their birthday. Their belongings were packed away and stored in the attic long ago. One by one, photographs disappeared off the mantle. Every year, on this day, his mom and grandma would make a big pancake breakfast and clean the house from morning till night. It was their way of dealing with the pain.

He was five when his father and grandfather disappeared. The memory used to be fresh in his mind, but now it played like an old grainy movie. If he closed his eyes and concentrated, he could almost feel his father's rough, callused hands the last time they hugged goodbye and see the twinkle in his grandfather's eye as the old man ruffled his hair. Sometimes it was hard to remember what they looked like. Those were the times he'd pull out the framed picture he kept hidden under his bed.

Once in a while he could still feel the coolness of the cement walkway under his bare feet on that last morning. It was covered with grass and weeds now. He had chased after them and begged them not to go, but they didn't listen. His father and grandfather gave one last wave and walked away. They were never seen or heard from again.

A knock thumped on the bedroom door and Milo jumped with a start. "Come in." The door opened and in popped a head full of gray curls. "Hi, Grandma."

"Good morning, Milo," she said, with a warm smile. The wrinkles around her mouth deepened. "How's the best grandson in the whole wide world?"

Milo rolled his eyes and picked his sneakers up off the floor. "I'm your only grandson," he said, smirking at her.

"Breakfast is ready, smarty-pants," she said, turning to leave.

"Grandma?"

She gave him a side glance and raised an eyebrow.

"I had another weird dream and...um...." In all honesty, it had been a nightmare.

He never had trouble discussing his dreams with her before. Normally, he'd just shake it off and forget about it, but the one he had last night was different. It wasn't jumbled like all the others and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get the images out of his head. He fumbled with his sneakers and waited for her to shuffle over and sit down.

"Why don't you tell me about it," she said, patting his knee.

Milo scrunched up his face and took a deep breath.

"I was in a dark tunnel. There was a large house.....like an old English castle. There were people there I'd never seen before....and Max Hamby was there, too," he said. "You remember him, don't you? You met him once, at the science fair." Half of his nightmare included the last day they'd seen his father and grandfather. It would only upset her and he decided to leave that part out.

She nodded. "Yes. Nice boy."

Milo swallowed and squeezed the sneaker in his hand.

"I know it sounds crazy, but there were witches, dwarfs and a troll there, too. And blood, Grandma." She placed a hand at the base of her throat. He shifted on the bed and grabbed her arm. "Max Hamby was covered in blood." His stomach flip-flopped and he exhaled slowly. "What do you think it means?"

His grandmother leaned in and ran a hand over his hair, then kissed him on the forehead. "It sounds like a combination of the books you read and the scary movie you watched the other night," she said. "I told your mother you were too young for such things. Twelve years old is just too young for scary movies."

"No, Grandma. It was more than that. I'm sure of it," said Milo. "There was a huge tree stump with a door in the center. Voices called from it. I couldn't make out what they were saying, but I know they were..... They felt bad....very bad, Grandma. It felt so real."