The Next Dimension

Chapter 7

***

The next few days were anything but peaceful. The carrot head that was Ian was very irritating, as irrational as it was. Just his presence in the same house made Sagarus want to claw his hair out. Ian didn't seem to feel the same way at all, and he went out of his way to hang around whatever room that Sagarus was in. Sagarus rationalized that Ian was just doing his job, but he didn't like the feeling of being watched 24/7.

The guy sent by the young-old man came every two days, making sure they had food and didn't need anything. His name was Houston and he was pretty cool; it was a refreshing change from having Ian on his tail all day, even though Houston only stayed for maybe a max of twenty minutes.

When Houston didn't swing by, Sagarus was busy either sleeping, putting different things together to make the potion he'd need for the spell, or looking through some books he had Houston retrieve from a local library.

He took over the kitchen, and as a basic rule, he didn't let Ian even go to the fridge while he brewed. He only relented around meal times. It was for safety reasons, he told Ian. Perhaps also the fact that he didn't want his babysitter watching his every move when he was trying to concentrate. If Ian touched any of the things he had simmering on the stove it could be disastrous for the brew, and mistakes can sometimes be dangerous for the handler, too.

Ian had only tried to get into the kitchen once when Sagarus specifically told him not to go in and had quickly learned why. To put it simply, they both had their hair turned bright blue for a few hours and had developed nasty rashes on their arms that had yet to completely dissipate. Ian didn't question why Sagarus wanted him out of the kitchen after that.

When Sagarus wasn't doing any of these things he was snipping at Ian, with Ian being a complete turd bucket right back. Their voices never rose, but the words were sharp enough to make up for it. Occasionally the bickering dissolved into pointless name calling, which became a strange game where they tried to come up with the stupidest insults.

"You're a spoon."

"You're a rabjack."

"Potato kisser."

"Toe licker."

"Crud cake."

That sort of thing.

The worst part was the fact that Ian treated the whole thing like a game, which frustrated Sagarus to no end. Ian was the real reason that their petty squabbling never got loud, his calm tone never wavered unless Sagarus pissed him off. Then Ian's slight accent started getting clearer until he finally just shut up and Sagarus got the peace and quiet he wanted while Ian stewed somewhere in the house.

Half-way through the week Sagarus found out something interesting. Ian had been sitting on the couch in the living room when he suddenly exclaimed something in an agitated voice. Sagarus heard it and wandered in, wondering what Ian could be doing.

It turned out that Ian was reading the newspaper, and the headline was: BREAKING NEWS: SUICIDAL NINJA BOMBER DROPPING INTO POLITICAL PARTY? Sagarus snorted. "A ninja bomber? Really? That's the best they can come up with?" He shook his head, tutting in disapproval. Ian glared at him.

"That's not what I'm mad about. The public wasn't supposed to know about anything! They even got pictures." Ian held up the paper and Sagarus took it, looking over the blurry photo of him in the air, glass shards all around as he fell. It was hard to tell, but it was definitely him.

Sagarus sighed. "Well, it's not like they could keep all of it hush-hush. I mean, look! There were tons of people there." He pointed to the many figures at the bottom of the photo, some of whom he recognized as the leaders from the meeting and their advisors.