TITLE: DARK SKY'S ASHES
GENRE: Upper MG Fantasy
The brick house was the tallest building on the street and the brick house knew it. It towered over the competition on its city boulevard and that was without the rooftop launch-pad smashed to rubble in 1940. It was three stories tall and had a thousand to tell.
On hot days, its limestone windowsills smelled like burnt barbecue and gunpowder. Dark red stains clung to chalky mortar. Thick concrete floors hid old bones and air shafts that whistled in the dark.
A century-long line of home inspectors said, “Completely safe and stable,” and each time, the brick house grinned quietly. It was immovable and ingenious and fireproof, but the best word to describe it to someone outside the Dragon Agency was “dangerous.”
The brick house kept its eyes open. It was biding its time. It expected a lot and usually got it. The house had never settled, would never settle for anything. Its jazz-blue front door and curling ivy vines swaggered. The brick house was strong and good-looking and the brick house was kind of a jerk.
But that didn’t change the fact that it knew its stuff, didn’t change the things it had seen and the lives it had helped begin and end. That didn’t change the dark corners it would show the right tenants and the questionable plans it had for their futures.
And the brick house knew that gangly, twelve-year-old Conley Hoss was the perfect kid to help it stage its comeback.