All chapters of Marcy's Story

Here's a handy dandy thing that has links to all the chapters for Marcy's Story!

Chapter 1: A Summer Ruined
Chapter 2: A Bad Start and a Surprise
Chapter 3: Exploring
Chapter 4: The Dream
Chapter 5: A Riddle and a Book
Chapter 6: Not the Library
Chapter 7: Family Reunion
Chapter 8: Magic
Chapter 9: Chatting with Cyronix
Chapter 10: The Wizard Convention
Chapter 11: A Battle, Alex, and Unologe
Chapter 12: Following Matt
Chapter 13: Eavesdropping
Chapter 14: Battles, Inside and Out
Chapter 15: No More Normal
Chapter 16: Opening the Chamber
Chapter 17: The Second Character
Chapter 18: Solving the Riddle
Chapter 19: Forced Choices
Chapter 20: The Well of Souhaiters
Chapter 21: An Unexpected Surprise

For your convenience :)
~~Zoë Wingfeather

Chapter 1: A Summer Ruined

Okay, new book.  I'm calling it Marcy's Story, in case you didn't notice.  Here goes:

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CHAPTER 1

“WHAT?!  No!!  I had the summer all planned out!  I was going to have fun!  And now YOU have to RUIN it by sending me to stay with a person you hardly know while you go to the Bahamas?!  THAT IS NOT FAIR!”

Marcy shouted the words at her parents, not caring whether she hurt them or not.  I had it all figured out! she screamed internally.  Me and Olivia were going to have sleepovers every weekend!  And summer parties, and we’d go to the pool together, and stare at all the hot lifeguards….and now I can’t!  WHY DO THEY ALWAYS RUIN EVERYTHING??

“Darling, she’s your father’s sister, we know her, so--”

“Don’t ‘darling’ me!” Marcy spat at her mom.  “You haven’t seen her in years!  And the last time Dad saw her, I wasn’t even born yet!  You hardly know her AT ALL!”

“That was only 14 years ago, dear,” her father started to say.

“Yeah, Dad,” replied Marcy sarcastically.  “Only 14 years ago.  Hah!  Well, I don’t even care.  Go ahead, go visit my great aunt and uncle.  I’m sure you’ll have so much fun.  IN THE BAHAMAS!  Meanwhile I’m stuck with my stupid unmarried aunt who I’ve never even met in my LIFE!  Do you even care about me at all?!  UGH!!”  Her parents tried to interrupt but she wasn’t listening.  Marcy ran upstairs to her room and slammed the door.  Maybe they’ll get my point, she thought bitterly.  She flopped on her bed and threw her arms out across the numerous pillows scattered upon it.  They have no idea how I feel right now.  All my hard work planning with Olivia, and it’s for NOTHING!  Do they even understand at all?

She gazed at the white ceiling, trying to distract herself from the traumatic afternoon by letting her thoughts roam and her eyes wander around her room.  The pink walls were decorated with posters of her favorite boy bands and pictures of her and Olivia doing numerous activities.  Long, purple curtains with sequins on them hung from the windows.  Marcy sat up, crossed her legs, and focused on a picture of her and Olivia, both several years younger, holding up their hands with their matching nails facing the camera.  I wish I had her hair, she thought to herself.  Well, I like mine, but hers is so pretty.  She fingered the straight brown locks.  Her hair hung to about the middle of her torso, and had faded bleached streaks running through it.  Olivia’s bright pink hair was arranged in a pixie cut, and always earned her attention.  Of course, I get attention too.  Ugh, my brain is everywhere today.  Look at my face.  Hopping off her bed, Marcy walked over to a mirror set over her vanity.  She examined her nose and cheeks.  Faintly acne spotted, her cheekbones were high, making her always look happy.  Except for now.  I need to treat my face more, or I’ll get my acne back.  Oh, why do I have to go to that place over the summer?  Reluctantly, she thought back to earlier in her day.

She had just gotten home from the last day of school when she heard the dreaded sentence: “Honey, we need to talk.”

Her parents called her from out of her room and sat at the kitchen table with her.  Marcy was impatient.  She wanted to go back upstairs and call Olivia to plan their summer together some more.  But her parents insisted, so she complied.

And then they told her.

They had--without telling her--been invited to visit Marcy’s great aunt and uncle, who lived in the sunny Bahamas, right off the beach.  And she, their only child, was going to stay with her aunt, who lived in South Carolina, while they were gone.  Marcy lived in North Carolina.  At least I won’t have to take a plane ride, she mused.  

But when her parents informed her that she would be staying with her aunt, whatever her name was, she knew that she would have a horrible time.  She had planned so much over the summer, and it was going to be the best summer of her life, and now….it made her mad just to think about it.  Marcy grabbed her phone and called Olivia.

“Hey, ready to plan the summer?” said the cheerful voice on the other end.

“I….have some bad news.”  Marcy told her best friend all that had happened.  When she finished, there was silence on the phone.  “Are you still there?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m here.  So….you won’t be able to do everything we planned?” Olivia asked, crestfallen.

“I won’t be able to do anything we planned,” she answered morosely.  “You don’t even know how mad I am right now.”

“Well….we can….there’s always next summer, I guess, right?”

“Sure, a whole year away.”

“Can you bring your phone?”

“I don’t know.  I guess so, Mom and Dad let me bring it everywhere.”

“Then at least you can call me!”  Olivia already sounded happy again.  I wish I was as optimistic as her.

“I guess.”  Marcy plopped down on her bed again, dangling her legs over the edge.  “Look, I gotta go.  Mom said we leave to drop me off tomorrow so I have to pack.”

“Okay.”  She heard Olivia smile over the phone.  “I love packing.”

“Olivia, you love everything.”  Marcy smiled too.

“Good, I hear you smiling.  Keep smiling, ‘kay?”

“Yeah.  Bye bye.”

“Bye, and call when you get a chance, okay?”

“Alright.  Talk to you later.”  Marcy hung up.  She tossed her phone onto her bed, stood up, and walked to her closet.  Let’s go about this like Olivia would.  Happily.  She swung the closet doors open and lugged out her suitcase.
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Ta da!!! Whatcha think? It gets better, I assure you. :P
~~Zoë Wingfeather

Chapter 2: A Bad Start and a Surprise

Weeeeellll her' tis.

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CHAPTER 2

Marcy looked out the window and sighed.  It was raining.  Droplets of water rolled down the glass, leaving streaks in their wake.  Marcy and her parents were on their way to her aunt’s house.  Aunt Jenny.  What a boring name.  Mr. Stell, her dad, had told her his sister’s name early on in the trip.  For most of the almost three hour drive, her parents had lectured her on how to behave at her Aunt Jenny’s house.  Rolling her eyes, she remembered their rules and restrictions.  They’ll have no rules when their on that trip.  Without me.  She watched the rural South Carolina countryside go by quickly, like it had been for a while.

Her parents would be leaving to go to the cruise directly after they dropped Marcy off at Aunt Jenny’s house.  I hope it rains the whole time, she thought sullenly.  They had told her everything about Jenny Stell that they could recall.  “She’s very fun, you’ll like her,” Mr. Stell had said.  “She loves adventure.  Her house is very big too--a bit old fashioned, from what I remember, but huge all the same.  She’s pretty rich too, she might even let you go shopping if you’re bored.  You’ll have a great time!”

Marcy snorted.  Fat chance of that.  She perked up when Mr. Stell began to speak again.  “We’re almost there.  Now, remember, I want you to--”

“I know, I know, I know,” Marcy said angrily.  “I’ll be on my best behavior and do all the right things, I’ll say yes mam and no mam, I’ll say please and thank you and all that.  You don’t have to tell me again.”

“Right.  Well, anyway, this right here is her house.”  He pointed to a large, very old fashioned house in the middle of a clearing.  Marcy groaned.  “Look at it!  I bet she doesn’t even know what a telephone is.”

“Oh I’m sure she does, darling,” her mom assured her.  “It’s not like she lives in another century!”

“Wouldn’t count on that,” muttered Marcy.  She swung open the door of the car and stepped out onto the gravel driveway.  The rain had mostly stopped, replaced by a slight drizzle.  Spitefully, Marcy slammed the door closed and stomped back to the trunk.  She opened it and heaved out her glittery pink monogrammed suitcase and pillow.  “Mom, can you get the rest for me?” she asked her mother, only because she didn’t want to take .  “Absolutely,” Mrs. Stell answered.  She lifted two other suitcases out of the trunk and her husband shut it.  They all walked up to the front stairs.  Annoyed as she was, Marcy couldn’t help noticing the architecture.  The house was all stone, decorated with snarling gargoyles and smiling angels on each corner.  Strangely, the stone was tinted black, giving the house a sinister feel.  Marcy looked up at one of the gargoyles.  It almost seemed to sneer at her, taunting her.  She shuddered.  Creepy.  

Mr. Stell rang the doorbell.  A long note sounded in the house.  The door opened inward.  Marcy peered inside.  She got a glimpse of the hallway and inwardly groaned again.  The wallpaper was flowered and looked like it was from the ‘70s.  It was dark inside.  I don’t think I can stay the entire summer in that house.  Suddenly, a man stepped out from inside, interrupting her train of thought.  He was wearing a tuxedo and looked to be in his early thirties.  A butler.  Great.  “This is the Miss Jenny Stell residence, state your business,” he intoned.  Marcy got the feeling he did that a lot.

“We’re Damion and Christina Stell, with our daughter Marcy.  She’s staying with Jenny for the summer,” Mr. Stell answered.  “Right, come on in,” the butler said, ushering them deeper into the old house.  He led them through the hallway to a parlor.  “Wait here please,” he said, then left, shutting the door behind him.  

Marcy set down her suitcase and slumped in a chair that looked straight out of the 1900s.  A cloud of dust poofed up from it, causing her to sneeze.  “Ugh,” she coughed, quickly jumping up.  She walked over to the large fireplace and examined it.  The mantle was high and the stone was crumbling.  

“Well, she has strange tastes,” her mother ventured timidly.  “I’ll say,” Mr. Stell agreed.  “Reminds me of my childhood.  My grandma’s house looked like this.”

“And this is where I get to spend my summer.”  Marcy turned to look at them.  “I just know I’ll have tons of fun.  Hah!”

Her father started to say something but was interrupted by the sound of a door opening.  The Stells swiveled around to look at the source of the sound.  That was when she got her first glimpse of Jenny Stell.

She was tall, like her brother, and had his red hair as well.  One of the first things that Marcy noticed about her aunt was Jenny’s eyes.  They were bright green and seemed to sparkle with a sense of fun and a mysterious secret hand-in-hand.  She looked a bit older than the butler but wasn’t ancient like her house, Marcy noted thankfully.  She wore blue jeans and a flattering black shirt which emphasized her slender form.  The first thing she did was walk to her brother and hug him.  “I haven’t seen you in ages, Damion,” she said happily.  “I know, me neither,” he replied.  They pulled away.  

“You look fatter.”  Jenny playfully poked his stomach.  “Me?  Nah!  You, though, you’re a bit more plump than last I saw you!” Damion answered.  The siblings laughed.  Jenny looked over to her sister-in-law.  “And Christina!  I haven’t seen you since you were pregnant!  You look wonderful!”  They hugged and chatted about how life was going by too fast.  Marcy stood by awkwardly, watching the reunion go on.  Then Jenny spun to look at her.  She gazed at her niece with a sad smile in her eyes.  Marcy held her stare and then looked down at her feet.  “You look just like someone I knew a long, long time ago,” Jenny said quietly.  Marcy looked up, meeting her eyes again.  “You’re a very pretty girl, Marcy,” she remarked, then clapped her hands.  “But enough of that.  You don’t care to know all about my past, do you?  Good.  Now, you guys”--she waved her hands at the Stells--“better go!  You’re going to be late for your plane!”  Marcy’s parents protested but Jenny insisted.  “Go on!  You haven’t much time!”  

“It’s not like it’s a life or death situation!”  Mrs. Stell giggled.

“I hate when she’s like this, she’ll never budge,” Mr. Stell commented to his wife.

“Exactly!” declared his sister.  “Which is why you should go!  Right now!  Shoo!  Away with you!”

And so the Stells, laughing all the way, were ushered out by Jenny, who pushed them out to the doorstep.  Marcy kissed her parents goodbye, waved to them, and then suddenly--they were gone.  That was faster than I thought it would be, she thought, standing on the steps with her aunt.  

“Well!”  Jenny dusted her hands off.  “Now they’re gone.  And now we begin our summer together!  I’m so glad you’re staying with me.  Oh!”  

Marcy started.  “What?”

“I get to show you your room!” Jenny said excitedly.  “Let’s go!  I’ll help you carry your stuff.”  They walked back inside and Jenny picked up one of her suitcases.  “Your room is upstairs.  I think you’ll like it.”

Yeah, right.  Bet it looks like it came out of a time machine, just like everything else in this house.  Marcy lugged her stuff up the winding circular staircase to the hallway above.  The ugly flower pattern continued until she got to the top and then--

Marcy stood at the top of the stairwell, shocked.  The wallpaper had changed!  The flowers and vines abruptly stopped where the hallway began!  What…..?  The wall now looked so different that Marcy had to look back to compare them both again.  It was painted a beautiful light blue that brought out the light from several large windows placed strategic locations.  White picture frames were mounted on the wall, showing off bright colored paintings of lovely mountain scenes.  As Marcy unbelievingly gazed down the hallway, she saw white doors, some of which were ajar to reveal rooms painted shades of light green, grey, and more blue.

All of this happened in the space of ten seconds.  Shaking herself out of her trance, Marcy followed her aunt, who had proceeded to a room on the left side of the hallway.  She pushed open the door.  Marcy got her first look at what was to be her room for the summer.  ---------

My thingie is doing strange things, sorry for the indent.

Took a surprising turn? Yeah? Huh? Like it?

~~Zoë Wingfeather

Chapter 3: Exploring

:] and so we return.
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CHAPTER 3

Woah….

Marcy gaped at the room.  This is so different from what’s downstairs!  It was rather large.  The walls were light purple and the trim was white.  Three windows were placed on one wall and one on another.  Green gauzy curtains hung before each of them.  A white queen size bed made lime green sheets and set with the headboard against the middle of a wall occupied a great deal of the floor, but there was other furniture.  A white wood dresser and vanity were placed in the room as well.  Marcy saw a door to a closet and a bathroom.  The room was so light and cheery, it was hard to tell if she was still in the same house.  

Jenny humphed as she dumped her suitcase onto the floor.  Marcy started to open her mouth to ask questions but her aunt cut her off.  “I’m assuming you have questions?”

She nodded.  “Well, go ahead and ask them.”

“Well, for starters, why in the world is the upstairs so cool and the downstairs so old fashioned?” Marcy asked.  She set down her pillow on the bed and her other suitcase beside it, then sat down on the bed.

“Ah, that.”  Jenny abruptly plopped down onto the carpeted floor and crossed her legs, sweeping her red hair out of her face.  “Well, sometimes I find it better to be thought of as a crazy lady who isn’t quite with the century.  It--for lack of a better word, uninterests people.  And sometimes it’s better for them to wonder about me.  Plus it’s fun.  And I don’t get any suitors.  Which helps.”  She smiled.  “Next?”

“Do you live up here?”

“I do.  The part of the house that you and your parents saw makes me sneeze, so I keep away if I can.  All else is as modern as this.  It’s pretty cool, actually.”

Marcy laid down.  “So, why don’t you want people to come here?  Are you a criminal or something?” she asked jokingly.  

“That would depend on your point of view,” said Jenny.  “And yes, there is a story behind that.  But I’ll wait to tell you.  Maybe you can figure out some parts of it yourself.”  She looked at Marcy slyly.  “Let’s just say that the police don’t want me and I haven’t broken the law and leave it at that.  Look hard enough and you’ll find out more.”  Jenny clapped her hands and stood up.  “Well, I’m sure you want some time to put away your things and get settled.  I’ll leave you for now.  Dinner is at six and we’re having homemade mac and cheese!  You can come down before then if you want.  Oh, and the wifi password is derpywizard32.  Bye for now!”  She waved as she left the room.

Okay, thought Marcy.  She opened her phone and connected to the wifi.  Good.  At least I can call and text.  I doubt there’s a cell tower within a mile from here.  She took a picture of her sarcastically happy face and texted it to Olivia with the message, having so much fun. :|

She set her phone down on the bed and began to unload her things into the dressers as she waited for Olivia’s reply.  Before long she heard the ding of a new message.  Eagerly, she picked up her phone, but set it down again with a sigh as she saw who the message was from.  

We miss you already, honey.  Text me every day to let me know how you are.  Love you.  --Mom

Hah!  Think I really believe that?  Yeah, right.  She deleted it and returned to putting away her things.  Suddenly a thought occurred to her.  Wonder why there’s no dust?  I doubt she cleans all these rooms.  She examined the dresser more thoroughly.  Hm….strange.  No dust at all.  Course, she does have a butler.  Maybe he does it.  Her train of thought stopped abruptly as she heard the text tone.  She read the message:

Olivia: Can’t be that bad.  :)

She sighed as she texted back.  

Marcy:  I don’t know….when we first got here I thought I stepped into a time machine….  She told Olivia everything--the strange house, Jenny’s peculiar reasons for living there, the shock of the modern upstairs, and the butler.  Olivia returned her text almost immediately.  

Olivia:  Hm.  Well, at least you can talk to me and at least the rest of the house doesn’t look like the front!  :D

Marcy:  I guess.

Olivia:  Just look on the bright side.  You can probably do whatever you want!  Did you bring money?

Marcy:  Yeah, enough for a good bit of shopping.  I think Mom and Dad felt bad for me.

Olivia:  Good.  Send me pictures of all the stuff you get, okay?  I have to go, Mom’s calling me.  :P  Talk to you soon, bye!

Marcy:  Bye

Marcy set down her phone.  Why oh why can’t I be like Olivia?  I’d have so much more fun in life.  She opened up the closet and tossed her suitcase onto the floor, then began to hang up her shirts.  The first thing she noticed was the abundance of hangers.  The second thing was a small door near the corner of the closet.  It was only about five inches high, and, strangely, had a small sign hanging on it, which swung back and forth like the door had been opened recently.  Marcy bent down to look at it.  She peered at the sign.  Miniscule writing was inscribed on the plaque.  She bent closer.  Barely, she made out the words, “do not disturb.”  Huh.  She thumped the door.  Nothing happened.  Weird.

Disappointed, she stood back up and returned to hanging up her clothes.

***************

When she finished, Marcy looked at the clock hanging on the wall.  Only three?  Ugh.  What am I supposed to do with all this time? she thought.  She flopped on her bed and lay prostrate among the many pillows.  I wonder what the rest of the house looks like….

Quietly, she wandered out of her room into the hallway.  The house was silent.  She peeked into some of the other rooms.  They were spacious, with walls painted light colors like hers.  There were two doors opposite each other about halfway down the hall.  They were shut completely.  Tentatively, Marcy tried the handles.  They were locked.  Hm...must be Aunt Jenny’s room.  But whose room is that?  

She looked around her.  No one was near.  Still wary, she looked under the crack between the hardwood floor and the door.  She saw part of a room, and also, some black men’s dress shoes.  Barely, Marcy contained a gasp and scooted frantically away from the door.  Must be the butler’s room.  She got up as quietly as she could and tiptoed away from the door.  Back at her room, she noticed a door, partly glass, all the way at the end of the hall.  Wonder what that room is?  Curious, she wiggled the knob.  It was unlocked.  She pulled open the door and was faced with a short flight of stairs, which she climbed.  At the top, she found a large room with a couch and some chairs surrounding a widescreen television.  A small kitchenette was situated in the corner, complete with a microwave, sink, and a fridge.  Marcy checked out the television.  She saw two game consoles and several games in a shelf with a large collection of movies.  Huh.  Nice.  Maybe I can watch some of these.  She slowly ran her hand along the movies.  I’ve been wanting to watch this one, and this one too.

Having seen all of the TV room, Marcy tromped down the small flight of stairs and thumped down the bigger spiral one.

She walked down the old fashioned hallway into another modern hallway much like the one upstairs.  It had the same blue walls of her room and was decorated with various baubles--small square mirrors, a splash of white dots, and a picture here and there.  She observed the pictures with mild interest as she moved down toward the end of the hall.  There were a few pictures of Jenny’s childhood--one with her and Damion playing with a hose in the backyard of what Marcy recognized as her grandparents’ house, a few of family gatherings, and one which caught her eye immediately.  The picture was different than the others.  In the photo, Jenny stood beside a man, who she knew was not the butler.  They had their arms around each other.  The man was taller than Jenny, and had brown hair and dark brown eyes.  Marcy leaned closer to the picture.  He was wearing jeans and a white t-shirt.  Jenny wore jeans and a pink blouse and looked immensely happy.  But what interested Marcy the most was the man’s face.  His eyes seemed to hold secrets (almost like Jenny’s, she noticed).  He wore an easygoing smile, but his eyes contradicted it.  They looked like the mysteries behind them were dark and full of death.  

Strangely, after Marcy blinked and rubbed her eyes, disbelieving what she saw, and looked at the picture again, the eyes looked happy and loving.  Marcy shook her head and inspected the photo.  She still saw the carefree eyes.  Huh.  Weird.  I must have imagined it.  But I don’t remember Mom and Dad ever mentioning that Aunt Jenny was married.  Huh.  Maybe he was just a boyfriend.  She resolved to ask Jenny later.

Marcy meandered down the photo hallway and came to a door, and then another hallway.  The door was set in the wall of the photo hallway.  She tried the knob.  It was unlocked.  Quietly, she opened the door a crack.  She saw another hallway.  Checking her surroundings for anyone, she opened the door a bit more and slipped through, shutting it behind her.  There were a few doors down this hallway too.  Marcy tried each one.  They were all closets for cleaning supplies.  She found a vacuum, mop, bleach, brushes, sponges, paper towels, soap, dusting cloths, and more.  Disappointed, she snuck out of the supply hallway and back into the photo one.  Thankfully, Marcy had a good memory, and was composing a map of the house in her head as she went.  She entered the hallway she had noticed earlier, which branched off of the photo hallway.  This one was very short and painted a pretty shade of light orange.  I think I’ll call this one the sunset hallway, she thought.  It’ll help me with my idea of the house if I give names to all the places.

She walked through it and came to a sand colored living room and a powder room.  She stopped in the latter to take a bathroom break and then exited the sunset hallway back into the photo one.  It didn’t last long--the photo hallway abruptly turned and changed color.  It was now pale purple, similar to one of the rooms upstairs.  This hall was short too.  Marcy suddenly came into a large room that was a combined kitchen, breakfast nook, and dining room.  She examined it and decided that it was her favorite so far.  It had by far the most windows and was quite spacious.  The furniture and decor was to-date.  The kitchen had all the latest appliances and a stylish backsplash with a theme of silver, brown and green.  The floor was hardwood and very shiny, like it had just been cleaned.  

Marcy leisurely strolled over to a pair of French doors off the living room.  She opened one and stepped out into a screened in porch, complete with a table and chairs, a heat lamp, and a small beverage refrigerator in the corner.  Sighing, she humphed down into a chair.  It was wicker with a cushion and surprisingly comfortable.  What am I going to do with all this time? she labored.  I wish I could drive.  Then I could at least go shopping or to Starbucks or whatever I wanted.  Pulling out her phone, she glanced at it.  Wow, 5:00 already.  At least time’s going by kind of fast.  Dinner’s at 6.  What should I do until then?

I wonder if there’s a library?  A house this big is bound to have at least something like one.  She got up from the chair and left the porch.  Entering the living room again, she looked around for another door or hallway.  Ahah!   She spotted a door coming off of the kitchen and opened it.  It was a pantry.  She searched again.  Finding another door, this time adjoining the living room, she tried it.  It was a bathroom.  She had almost given up when she spied one more door off of the living room.  She opened it and found a hallway.  Maybe this goes to a library.  Cautiously, she tiptoed down the darker hallway.  She felt as if she wasn’t supposed to be there.  She saw a door at the end of the hall and tested the knob.  It was unlocked.  Slowly, Marcy turned the doorknob and the door swung open.

She gasped.  There was a massive library in the room before her.  It was double the size of the kitchen-dining room.  Tall shelves filled with books rose to the ceiling.  This room is huge!  I didn’t think a personal library could be this big! thought Marcy as she stared at the room in awe.  She walked in, head swiveling from side to side as she took it all in.  The books were very different, she noticed--some were old and very dusty, and some looked like they had been published that month.  She strolled over to a shelf and took a book off of it.  It was one of the older ones, and Mythology: Legends From All Cultures was the title.  Marcy opened it.  A cloud of dust flew up from the book.  She coughed, waving her hand before her face.  Ew, she thought.  Wonder who was the last person who opened this?  The pages looked very fragile with age.  Carefully, so as not to break them, she turned to a random place in the book and began to read.  “Mythology is typically based on truth.  There are a few exceptions--for example, the gods of various cultures.  This is most obviously not true.  Several reasons for this have been proved.  

“First, the gods, if they were real, would be the same for each people, as would their methods of required worship.  If this were valid, archaeologists would have found evidence to the contrary.  Instead, they have found many different practices.  The ancient Mayans, for example, had very bloody rituals and often sacrificed their own people to their gods.

“On the other hand, the Greek gods also made sacrifices to their gods, but these sacrifices were often animals--a bull, a goat, a sheep.

“There are also other proofs.  In addition, the--”

Marcy heard a sound, like the creaking of a door from the other side of the room.  She hastily closed the book and slipped it back onto the shelf as quietly as she could, then made her escape.  She shut the door behind her and let out a breath.  Silently, Marcy tiptoed down the hall, let herself out, and then ran through the house upstairs to her room.  She panted from her run as she collapsed on her bed.  Whew.  That was risky.  I want to go back though.  Might be worth it.  If I’m going to be stuck here I may as well read some stuff.  Maybe there’s some interesting books in there.  She glanced at her watch.  It was almost time to eat.

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My formatting is wacky again :/ sorry. Oh well. You'll probably have to go back and read the first parts.

~~Zoë Wingfeather