CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
The fire in Chris’s stomach finally stopped burning. He opened his eyes and blinked, surprised to find he was still in Mistress Obsidian’s office. She and Malcolm were both peering at him. His whole body had flopped over onto the table. He pulled himself to sitting.
“Is it over?” he asked, hearing his voice come out frustratingly timid.
Mistress Obsidian folded her hands in front of her. “It is. How do you feel? Different?”
Christopher looked down at his hands, turning them over and back again. They looked normal. He touched his body. Nothing felt any different.
“I don’t think so,” he said. “Not really.”
“It may take a little while before they come into effect,” Mistress Obsidian said. “While we’re waiting, let’s talk about your mission.”
The door opened then, an
