My heart skipped a beat as the photo came to life. There we were, Jacob and I, jumping up and down and grinning at Mom. She must have thought it was because we were excited. Mischievous, giggling, and making silly faces at each other. Little did she...
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Chester held onto my shoulder tightly, standing straight as a rod, but with a hint of unease. Faint blotches on his face revealed his embarrassment. In silence, we descended into the Inner Courtyard, meticulously examining the portraits and noting the tiniest details. It felt like the staircase was moving slower than a Fire Crab.
Chester cleared his throat, catching my attention. I looked at him skeptically.
"For example, this is a portrait of Paracelsus," he began. "He was renowned as a healer and is rumored to be the creator of Episkey. Remind me to teach you that spell next year; it can be quite handy, given your knack for accidents."
Paracelsus, upon hearing his name mentioned, gallantly bowed. I noticed a cauldron in the background of his portrait, its contents shimmered a beautiful crimson.
"Of course, he was also an alchemist," Chester continued. "You know, it's a bit like chemical transfiguration, transforming one element into another. Nicholas Flamel, who's also an alchemist, is here somewhere... Ah, there he is!"
Davies scanned the walls with his eyes and pointed somewhere upwards. I tilted my head to follow his gaze, observing dozens, if not hundreds, of portraits in motion, engrossed in conversations and visits. A few frames remained vacant. My attempt to locate Nicholas Flamel in this whirlwind quickly proved futile.
"See him? There!" Chester turned his head towards Flamel, unconsciously placing his hand under my chin to direct my gaze.
In that very moment, he pulled back as though stung. Flustered, we jumped to the opposite railing, while Nicholas Flamel chuckled softly. At some point, I had to threaten him with my fist. Chester's face broke out in blotches again, but he quickly regained his composure.
"Ahem, I think—I think we can move on now. These two — ehm! — these two portraits strike me as a peculiar pair: Laverna de Monmornacy and Sacharissa Tugwood. The creator of the love potion and the creator of the beauty potion."
One of the women — beautiful, with tight curls — winked flirtatiously at Chester. Chester blushed again. For him, this descent was clearly a contender for the most awkward experience of his life. Laverna de Monmornacy peered out from behind her hair, her portrait frame adorned with tiny hearts. To me, she appeared rather ordinary.
I asked, puzzled, "Why a peculiar pair?"
"Oh, that's simple. Just keep watching."
Laverna playfully put her hand to her lips, and an airy kiss floated in our direction. Snap! Chester caught it just inches from the tip of my nose. Laverna irritably shook her head, tousling her hair to reveal the other half of her face. Swampy, slightly bumpy skin. Small growths around her eyes.
