Chasing the Golden Trinket
I counted them.
‘Headcount’s thirty-four,’ I telepathically mumbled.
“Who are these kids?” Asked an old woman. She was wearing a dirty, loose, moss green dress that reached up to her knees with rubber slippers.
‘The fashion sense of this witch is making me faint.’ I could imagine Macky’s grimace.
I need a plan. Think, brain. Think.
‘Eve, distract them for me and hypnotize them and make them focus only to you. Louise, help me trap them in a glamour with Eve. Boys, gather important things we might need here. We’ll kill them in the glamour,’ I ordered them with my rushed plan.