Balance Keepers #1: The Fires of Calderon by Lindsay Cummings Page A

said, and reached down to pet the dog’s soft fur. The dog thumped his tail and licked Birdie’s hand. “At first I wasn’t so sure. A place like this shouldn’t exist. But I’m totally glad it does.”
    “And now we’re all here,” Leroy mused, smiling at her as he touched one of the cool, blue flames on the wall beside them. “It’s like magic.”
    Birdie nodded. “Do you guys believe in magic? I didn’t think I did, until today.”
    Albert nodded, and pointed at Farnsworth’s glowing eyes. “If that’s not magic, if this whole place isn’t magic, then I don’t know what is.”
    The door creaked open in front of them, and they all whirled around. Trey poked his head out.
    “The Professor will see you now.”
    One by one they filed through the door, Farnsworth right on Albert’s heels.
    Albert had seen a lot of strange things today. He’d even felt like he was floating inside of a dream. But what lay behind the door took his breath away all over again.
    Across the room, a glowing blue waterfall tumbled out of an impossibly high ceiling, water pooling on the cave floor. Bright yellow-and-purple birds danced around the waterfall, singing a lively song that made Albert wish he’d worked a little harder in choir class.
    “Whoa,” Leroy said, or at least, that’s what Albert thought he said. The sound of the rumbling water was so loud he couldn’t really be sure. Albert followed Farnsworth, Leroy, and Birdie across a raised pathway, closer to the waterfall, where a fine mist landed on Albert’s freckled nose.
    The pathway led behind the waterfall and Farnsworth darted ahead, running off to greet whoever—or whatever— lay hidden behind a series of curved walls. Albert’s heart started to beat faster, like the times when he’d seen scary movies. He felt like something awful would jump out from behind each corner he passed.
    It wasn’t the boogeyman around the corner, though.
    Behind an ancient oak desk sat a man in a shimmering green jacket. He was scribbling something on a long piece of parchment paper.
    The man looked up, set the pen down, and smiled.
    Albert gulped. “Dad?”

CHAPTER 7
Professor Bob Flynn
    A s far as Albert was concerned, Bob Flynn had always been an average, vanilla-variety dad. Bob spent eight hours a day delivering mail. On weekends he read books and fought a losing battle with Pap for the best recliner in the house. Did it get more average than that?
    Bob Flynn could not be spending his days in the Core, miles under the surface of the earth, in a place that shouldn’t even exist.
    Yet here he was, standing behind a desk, staring at Albert with a look of satisfaction on his face.
    “Dad?” Albert asked for the second time, because even though his dad was standing right in front of him, Albert just couldn’t believe it was true.
    “I knew you’d make it,” Professor Flynn said, looking right at Albert.
    They were nearly identical versions of each other—Professor Flynn the larger, Albert the smaller—down to the three large freckles on each of their noses.
    “Mr. Jones, Miss Howell,” Albert’s dad said, clearly pleased to see them, too. He waved them all over to his desk, where three chairs sat open and waiting. “Have a seat. I’m sure you’re all exhausted. Getting down here the first time is quite an experience, but you’ll get used to it.”
    For a moment, Albert wondered if all of this was a strange vision from eating that bite of stale fruitcake back at the Herman Post Office, but he took his place in the middle chair, Leroy and Birdie on either side of him. Trey stepped into the office, too.
    “I delivered the letter,” Albert said, once they were all settled.
    Farnsworth barked and looked up at Albert as if he was owed something.
    “Farnsworth helped,” Albert added. “And by the way, did you know this dog has flashlight eyes?”
    His dad’s laughter echoed off the stone walls. The sound only drove it home further that there was a lot about his