Nobody -- not the butler, or the irritating boy, not Styg, not Spot, and certainly not Olive -- expected what happened next.
Still scowling at the boy up on the landing, Olive knelt down to stare the Deliryad directly in what one could assume to be its face. And she whispered something to it.
A twilighty whirlpool opened in the air above Spot, and with a startled yelp, he shimmered and dissolved into a cloud that wrapped itself out in a spiral to the edges of the foyer. For a moment, they were all consumed inside the dark, and it was extremely windy in the dusty mansion. Hats flew off of pegs, picture frames tilted, a stuffed eagle on a shelf tumbled away down the hallway. And then the cloudy black swirl uncoiled itself from around them all and Spot reappeared, panting and belly-up on the rug.
Styg whimpered. His fingernails had been wiped completely bare.
"I see you're good with pets," called Ferl from inside the cavernous umbrella stand into which he'd tumbled.
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