TITLE: TINY MITCHELL AND THE SIXTEEN NIGHTS OF MAGICK
Even in the dark, it didn't take Theresa "Tiny" Mitchell long to get to the frog pond on her bike. Up ahead, she saw the spot she and Delilah planned to meet for their first magical scrying. Gnarled trees
dipped their feet into scummy water, and reeds and swamp grass grew in thick clumps. The whole area smelled of wet mud and moldy water, but she didn't care. Hidden behind a swamp where no one but mosquitoes went, it was the perfect place. Far enough away from houses and streets, it gave her and Delilah a place to make all the noise they wanted and not be heard.
When she rode up, she saw her friend, Delilah, standing by the old folding table they found abandoned behind Tiny's house and dragged to the frog pond. She watched her friend take something out her
backpack and set it on the table.
At the sound of Tiny's bike rumbling to a halt, Delilah turned. “There you are.” She ran over and gave Tiny a hug. “I was worried you might not come. It's pretty spooky around here.” She smelled like French fries and hot dogs, and had a dab of mustard on her black T-shirt, and a blob of ketchup on her black shorts. Delilah was as big and teddy bearish as Tiny was small and serious.
Huddling together, they marched to the table. Delilah's eyes sparkled in the moonlight when Tiny handed her the snowman globe.