Chapter 9

chapter nine Dirk jerks awake at the sound of a loud SCHWOOM followed by a BANG! "Whazzat?" he grunts, half-asleep but already kicking off the flea-bitten motel bathrobe he was using as a blanket. Drooler meep-meeps good morning as Dirk grabs his sword. Coming out of the pool, Dirk spots Quint. He's standing with his conjurer's cane on the pool's uprooted diving board, masked in silhouette by the morning sun. "Dude, you're already up?" Dirk asks, still rubbing gunk out of his eyes. "More like... still up!" Quint says with a sly—and slightly unnerving—grin. "Did you get any sleep?" "Oh, sure! Got a solid three minutes. I slept standing up. Like a horse!" Dirk peers at Quint sideways, noticing he looks a little twitchy, like he pounded ten movie theater–sized fountain sodas. "Are you all right, bud?" Dirk asks. "I haven't seen you this wired since that time you tried to control Big Mama with your brain..."

"That would have worked if you hadn't stopped me," Quint says, flashing a way-too-wide smile. "Now, to your point—I may be a bit over-energized, yes, but I feel GREAT. I crammed HARD, friend. And I believe I have mastered ONE conjuration: Kinetic Volley. It is the second level of the Kinetic Dynamo conjuration tree." "Wait... Kinetic Dynamo? Isn't that the one that teleported us??" "Close! It was Kinetic Crescendo that teleported us —that's the seventh level of the Kinetic Dynamo conjuration tree. But the technology in my cane

allows me to adjust the energy—the power, if you will —of the conjuration. Do you follow?" Dirk scratches his chin. "Uh, yeah, I follow. Maybe. But explain it again for Drooler." Quint beams, happy to continue. "Every conjuration has levels—just like a skill-tree in a video game! At its maximum level, Kinetic Dynamo produces enough energy to teleport, like you saw. But at a lower level, it's akin to a small laser blast. By adjusting a few dials and knobs, it becomes a less powerful—and less teleporty—conjuration! Behold!"

Kinetic Valley, BOOM SLASH BOOM, BOOM, BOOM. Drooler meeps once. "Uh-huh, Drooler," Dirk responds. "Whoa is right." Just then, Kimmy shambles over. Her tall ears are sticking out at wild angles, like monster bedhead. "Too early," she mutters. "Awake bad." "Look who's up!" Quint calls cheerfully. "Hey, sleepyhead, you ready to slay a Drakkor?" Kimmy cocks her head, a little surprised by Quint's energetic eagerness, then grins. "Ooh, yesyesyes," she

says, suddenly all business. They rouse Galamelon, who missed all the commotion thanks to a crude pair of chewing gum earplugs. "Just a little bit longer..." he mumbles. "I'm in the middle of a powerful dream. Dreams often foretell the future, and as a conjurer, I must heed the dream's call. It may hold much meaning..." "You talking about this dream?" Kimmy asks, projecting for all to see... forty at Galamelons tonight or GalaMellons invited. "You're here to help Quint," Dirk growls, grabbing Galamelon's eye mask and yanking him to his feet. "So get up and start helping. Unless you wanna handle the Drakkor alone?"

"There is nothing I would desire more," Galamelon says. "However, I promised to guide Quint—so I must restrict the usage of my own powerful abilities. No easy task for a master conjurer like me—but I am being disciplined." "You can be disciplined in the Jeep," Dirk says. "C'mon." Carol gallops hard down sunbaked streets, speeding through the thick, humid air. The sun is midway in the sky when, at last, the adventurers reach the Drakkor's lair. Hold up King Possum's family fun palace. That's the drag horse layer. King Possum's family fun palace, fantastic. We'll slay the Drakoor free the queen in armor and still have plenty of time left over for ski ball Quint's agenda for the win. Just one quick note. The tracker is up there,