Page 18 of Soaring into the Midlife

"Come on," I yelled, making a break for the fountain, my heart pounding like a jackhammer. Kendra and Zara raced beside me. Behind us, the gingerbread warrior let out a guttural roar, giving chase.

"Are we seriously jumping into a chocolate fountain?" Zara yelled as we closed in on our escape route.

"Better than being turned into cookie crumbs by that maniac," I said, my sarcasm fueled by adrenaline. My vampire senses screamed danger, and there was no time to waste.

"Great point," Kendra said as she prepared to cast another spell. "I'll buy us some time."

"Make it quick," I said, the ground shaking beneath us as the gingerbread warrior gained ground. The portal seemed so close, yet still frustratingly far away.

"Got it," Kendra said before muttering an incantation under her breath. A sudden burst of light erupted from her hands, temporarily blinding the gingerbread warrior and sending him stumbling backward.

The trio of us sprinted even harder toward the chocolate fountain. Zara and I had to keep pace with Kendra. No way we’d leave her in the dust. "Almost there!"

8

"Who needsswords when you've got Snickers?" I tossed my candy weapon aside as Kendra, Zara, and I made like Olympic divers into the chocolate fountain's portal. The thick, velvety chocolate clung to us, and I chuckled, even as the chocolate pool swirled around us, tugging us from this reality into... well, wherever portals inside confectionery fountains led.

We popped out like Hershey's Kisses from their wrappers, landing in a heap on a cool, marble floor. Wiping the delicious mess from my eyes, I squinted at our new surroundings. We were smack dab in the middle of an art gallery that screamed 'haunted' louder than a banshee at a ghost convention. Shadows danced along the high walls, playing tag with the dim lighting.

"Okay, that was bizarrely fun," I admitted, trying to ignore how the gallery's silence seemed to drape over us like a heavy, velvet curtain. Part of me wanted to sprint and explore, while my other half cringed at the mess we were making.

"Look alive, girls." Kendra's lawyer-turned-bounty-hunter-witch instincts kicked in as she scanned the room. "Something tells me we're not alone."

As if on cue, the paintings started a shimmering disco show. I watched, transfixed, as a large elephant wiggled free from its oil-painted prison. It stretched, trunk to tail, becoming full-sized, somehow, and let out a trumpeting sound that echoed off the gallery walls.

"Is that Dumbo's cousin or what?" The creature's size could give any Macy's parade balloon a run for its money. Its tusks gleamed under the feeble lights as it stepped out with the grace of a ballerina—albeit a two-ton ballerina who could crush us without breaking a sweat.

"We’re not at Hogwarts anymore," I added as the elephant gave a gentle flap of its ears and eyed us curiously. It was surreal, like stepping into a Salvador Dali painting—only, you know, with less melting clocks and more wildlife emerging from frames.

"Hailey," Kendra said. "Let's not end up as elephant stomping ground."

"Or worse, modern art," Zara said out of the corner of her mouth.

No sooner had the elephant taken its first lumbering step away from the canvas than a chaotic symphony of rolling, tumbling, and thumping filled the gallery. I swiveled around, my feet sticking slightly to the chocolate-covered floor, as a cavalcade of fruit bowls began their great escape from still life imprisonment. Apples bounced like rubber balls, bananas unpeeled themselves mid-air with a cartoonish flair and grapes... well, they grape-shotted in every direction.

"Watch the oranges!" Kendra shouted, dodging a zesty citrus missile that whizzed by her ear, leaving behind a spritz of citrus scent—nature's perfume.

"Oranges have layers." Zara batted away a rogue peach with a spin worthy of a martial arts movie. "Like onions or ogres."

"Is now really the time for food analogies?" I dodged as a pineapple rolled past, its spiky exterior threatening to turn this into a tropical-themed game of dodgeball.

While we were busy fending off the fruit salad uprising, the portraits lining the walls took it upon themselves to join the party. First came a dashing pirate, complete with a wide-brimmed hat and an attitude large enough to fill the sails of his ship, stepping out with a swagger that suggested he'd plunder our sanity if given half a chance. His cutlass gleamed in the dim light as he eyed us with a mix of curiosity and hunger—the latter, I hoped, metaphorically speaking.

"Ahoy there, mateys!" he bellowed, apparently missing the whole 'stealthy' part of being a supernatural intruder. "Where be the rum?"

"Wrong franchise," I yelled back, rolling my eyes. "And wrong century!"

Next, a Victorian lady in a poofy gown glided out with all the grace of a ghost waltzing through a wall. She looked down her nose at us, her fan fluttering fast as she surveyed the pandemonium with disdain.

"Goodness gracious!" Her British accent was as crisp as a crumpet. "What is this unseemly ruckus?"

"Welcome to the twenty-first century." I gave her a mock curtsy that nearly sent me toppling over. "We do chaos with style here."

"Hailey," Kendra said. "Friendly or not?"

"Can't tell, but let's not stick around for introductions!" I grabbed her arm as we sprinted toward what appeared to be safety but was just another corridor in an endless maze of animated art.

"Harry Potter never had to deal with this kind of crap!" I vaulted over a wayward melon that had joined the chase.