Balance Keepers #1: The Fires of Calderon Read Online Free

trunk of the tree was as wide as three school buses were long, and so short that if he wanted, Albert could have taken a small leap and been able to skim the leaves with his fingertips. And because he was a boy with a big imagination, he couldn’t help but call the tree by a name that seemed fitting.
    “A Troll Tree,” he said, because it was the most accurate description he could think of. It looked like it belonged in the dark wood of a fairy tale.
    Albert stood there for a while staring at the thing he’d named a Troll Tree, with a crooked smile on his face. He’d explored these woods for five summers and counting. How had he not come across this monstrous thing before? It had to have been there all along, and just now, at the age of eleven, he had finally discovered it.
    Farnsworth barked, a low, rumbling sound that made Albert jump.
    “What is it, boy?”
    The dog padded forward and grabbed Albert’s shoelace, pulling on it like a chew toy. Farnsworth was dragging him toward the tree, as if it were important. And something in Albert’s feet must have agreed, because they carried him along with the dog. Walking toward the tree was like walking toward some sort of bright, beautiful beacon. Albert’s chest felt lighter. His fingertips tingled, like they wanted to reach out and touch the solid bark.
    They circled and circled and circled the tree, or at least that was how it felt to Albert. Finally, just when Albert’s head was starting to spin, Farnsworth raced off, out of Albert’s line of vision. Albert walked a little faster, turning the wide corner around the tree.
    “Farnsworth? Hey, buddy?”
    Albert looked to the woods searching for the dog, and found instead that while he’d been wandering around the tree, the forest had turned to night. Only a hint of sunset remained, far off on the horizon. The trees swayed softly, like ghosts moving noiselessly closer. Albert backed up against the great tree and began sliding along its rough surface. Somehow, having the solid weight of the endless trunk against his back made him feel less afraid. At least nothing could jump out at him from behind and carry him away.
    Suddenly, the coarse feel of the bark on his right palm and fingers changed—now it felt smooth, like polished brass—which made Albert pull his hand back like he’d been shocked by an electric fence. Okay, this is getting seriously weird . He inched his fingers out once more and felt the cold, slick surface of something very untreelike. There was nothing left to do but turn around.
    There, on the side of the trunk where bark should have been, was a smooth wooden door.
    Albert took a step back, confused. Was this where his dad had wanted him to end up? It was the only thing that resembled a house he’d come across all day. At least it had a door—that was something. But the map hadn’t led him here. Nothing had, really, not even Farnsworth.
    Albert pulled the letter out of his pocket. It was crumpled now, and whoever was behind the door would surely know Albert had read it, but he didn’t care. What he wanted, more than anything, was to get out of the woods.
    He took a step forward, swallowed the knot in his throat, and knocked. The sound echoed.
    No answer. Albert knocked again, a little harder this time. Maybe the person inside was like Pap, and couldn’t hear very well. Maybe they’d grown weary of waiting for their letter and gone to bed. Albert noticed a round copper handle on the door. He reached for it and turned it enough to understand that it was not locked, then pulled his hand back.
    “I can’t just wander into someone’s tree house, can I? I’m not even sure that’s legal.”
    He felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise as the wind made the trees groan and sway. His hand went quickly to the door, and this time he turned the knob all the way.
    The door swung inward with a long, loud creak, like it hadn’t been opened for a million years. Surprised that the door had opened at