Misguided Adventures and Magical Attachments (Completed)

Chapter 15

Predictably, the truck came by just as planned. It was a small thing driven by a regular, undisturbed guy. Dipper had asked for a ride and was taken as far as the forest that edged the Mystery Shack.

"Thank you, Tad," the boy smiled, receiving a happy wave back.

"Not a problem, Dipper! Now excuse me as I ride around and pick up random hitchhikers like there isn't anything suspicious going on," the man grinned warmly and drove away, looking as comfortable as ever.

That was easy, the boy admitted, starting forward to dart into the bushes. I wonder if I'll have to teleport inside . . . He looked around, scanning the land ahead. Most of the agents appeared distracted or bored. He couldn't see Agent Powers anywhere. And where's Mabel?

Mabel is inside searching for a way to prove the agents wrong. Most of the them left to help Tigger so they won't be back for a while, Bill informed him, checking a few of his eyes again.

He pressed his lips together, walking out into the open. Glancing up at the Shack, with its broken windows and tattered exterior, Dipper hurried to the front door. He stopped halfway there when his balance was suddenly thrown off, rocks and other small objects beginning to levitate. He felt his feet lift off the ground and a sudden weightlessness overtaking him as he tried to keep himself upright in the air. Bill! What's going on?

Ah. I believe that is a side effect of the project Stan is working on . . . Bill muttered, watching everything float up for a few seconds before crashing back to the ground.

Dipper landed hard on his knees instead of his feet, the breath being knocked out of him. He stood up quickly, having been winded for only a moment. It would take more than that to hold him down. Project? What project? Dipper asked, happy that he landed in the grass instead of the splintery wood. He made his way into the house. Everything appeared the same as it had been apart from the shattered glass here and there, as if the agents had never arrived. He took to the stairs.

You'll find out soon. That was all the demon would tell him before he dropped the subject, completely changing it. Anyway, get some chalk. You need to draw an alchemy circle first. Bill pulled up a mental image of what the circle looked like. It was a circle with two triangles in it. One of the triangles was normal and the other was upside-down.

That's easy. Mabel has a box of sidewalk chalk in our room, he said. Dipper opened the door to their bedroom. The triangle window had broken, shards of glass spilling out over the floor and on the beds. "Oh no. This place is a mess . . ." the tween muttered, wondering if his shoes could take getting stabbed a few times. Maybe there's a spell I could use to get this glass out of the way . . .

There is. Easy Latin word: Repairo. That should repair the window and fix my eye, Bill informed. Imagine the window fixed; that all the glass pieces fit together like a puzzle. Then say the word and that should happen.

Dipper grinned at the new spell, adding it to his mental collection. It would be simple after all of his practice. Even fun. Looking at the windowpane, the brunet memorized the shape of the triangle and then scanned the area around him, starting to envision the pieces coming together again. Making something whole. He slowly allowed his gaze to trail back up to the window, then closed his eyes. The glass burned vividly into his imagination. He opened his eyes. "Repairo!"

Bill watched as the pieces of glass fixed themselves, fitting together just right to fix the window. In a matter of seconds, the window was completely fixed. Yes! My eye is back. Great job, Pine Tree.