AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry it took me so long to get this out!😭 Chapter five is a little shorter, but hopefully you'll enjoy it. Thank you so much for the support!!😊
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Oskar N. Reteep was puffing his pipe in his rocking chair when Artham and the children approached Books and Crannies. Zouzab, his ridgerunner and helping hand, perched among the rafters of the porch, eyeing them with a strange, attentive gaze. The bookkeeper waved, offering a kind smile.
“Ho, there, Igibys!” he called after lifting his pipe from his mouth.
“Hello, Mr. Reteep,” Janner waved back.
“Heading to Dragon Day, are we?” Oskar asked.
“Yes, sir,” Leeli replied with a smile. “Aren’t you going to the festival, Mr. Reteep?”
“I enjoy it from a distance,” the old bookkeeper leaned back in his chair with a creak. “This is my busiest day of the year, after all.”
Artham raised a brow at the empty bookstore, hiding a smile. He doubted many people wanted to stay inside and read with the sea dragons to look forward to. But now that he thought about it, he wouldn’t have minded retreating into Books and Crannies for a few hours, tucked into one of the armchairs beside the fire, sipping hot tea and enjoying a good book.
“Speaking of busy,” Oskar continued, “Janner, could you stop by tomorrow afternoon? I have a new shipment of books to unload, if it’s all right with your uncle, of course.”
“Can I?” Janner turned to face Artham, excitement lighting his face in a wide smile.
Artham nodded. “Yes.”
“And bring that brother of yours, too,” the bookkeeper added. “He looks as though he could use some exercise.”
Tink ripped his gaze from the ground as if snapped out of a trance. “What?”
“I’ll bring them by after lunch tomorrow, Oskar,” Artham promised as he ushered the children into town.
“So long, Igibys! In the immortal last words of General Shnimp, ‘Toodles’!” he called with one last wave.
Artham led the children down the lane, making sure Leeli was at his side while Janner and Tink ran ahead, playing some sort of tagging game. A lively jig was playing, and it mingled with laughter and excited chatter. Seas of people crowded on either side of the road, gathering around stands or games. Fangs wandered about, scowling and throwing the occasional bone or rock at passersby.
When Janner and Tink suddenly paused their tagging game in the middle of the road, Artham quickly took notice. The two boys were still, Janner protectively putting his arm over his younger brother. They were silent, and looked back to their uncle for help.
Standing before them was Esben. He stood motionless, oblivious to the several townsfolk that brushed past him and offered strange stares. His gaze was held on the boys and on the boys alone, his socked hands trembling at his sides. His mouth was open as though he wanted to speak, and something like tears began to form in his wide eyes.
Artham swept his arm over the children, who cowered behind him. He held his gaze with Esben for a few moments, unsure how to respond. So he didn't.
“Come along,” he instructed, guiding them around Esben.
“Artham.”
Esben’s singular word made all four of them, including Nugget, stop in their tracks. Artham shuddered, keeping his back to the Sock Man. He couldn’t bear to face him.
“Please. They’re — they’re my — my —” Esben struggled to speak, choked by his own sobs.
The three children glanced up to their uncle and then back to the Sock Man, confusion written across their faces.
Artham sighed. “Go home.”
Without waiting for another word or reaction from Esben, Artham shadowed the children in his arms as he led them away. They were quickly lost in the throng, and Esben had disappeared.
“How does the Sock Man know your name, Uncle Artham?” Janner asked when they were out of earshot.
“Glipwood is a small town,” Artham explained solemnly. “Crazy people hear lots of things.”
“He visits our cottage sometimes,” Leeli added as though this were perfectly normal.
Startled, Artham looked down to his niece. “How do you know that?”
“I’ve seen him in the garden,” she explained. “I think he steals our totatoes when he’s hungry. And he was in the garden this morning.”
Artham sighed. He wasn’t as discrete as he thought he was.
“Why would the Sock Man come to our cottage?” Tink asked. “There’s plenty of other gardens in Glipwood. Grandpa’s always saying that Buzzard Willie’s totatoes are better than his.”
“Our cottage is closer to the forest,” Janner said. “The Blaggus boys said that he lives there.”
“They also said that they saw him riding a toothy cow once,” Tink added.
“Those Blaggus boys are pulling your leg,” Artham laughed, though riding a toothy cow sounded like something Esben would try do.
“He must be lonely there,” Leeli said thoughtfully. “Do you think we can visit him? If he’s always coming to the cottage, maybe we can bring him some food.”
Artham’s face fell. “Podo would never allow it.”
“How do you know?” Tink asked.
“Trust me, your Podo wants nothing to do with that man,” Artham replied sadly. “Now let’s go. I’ve heard rumours that Armulyn the Bard is going to perform during the festival this year.”
what happened too Esben?