
Written to
Aspen pulled the candles and fake logs from the fireplace and whispered a quick spell, unstoppering the chimney. “Fire,” she murmured, pleased with herself. “All right, Toph, Betsy, there are eight candles in there. Arrange them in a half-circle around the fireplace, and then we’re going to put you in the middle, Toph, and we’re going to focus on the problem.”
“No, uh-unh.” He shook his head emphatically. “That’s how we end up with the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man.”
“No, no. That’s how we ended up with the nice shield over this block, remember? It’s not always like Ghostbusters, bub.”
Topher sighed loudly. “All right, all right. We can focus on the problem. Which is me, yeah? Me is the problem?”
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