But Aryl was grinning. “I think you’ve got all the de-Glopifying power you need right there.” He pointed at the soggy item in Spencer’s hand. “That, my lad, is a spit sponge.”
“A spit sponge?” Spencer shuddered, quickly withdrawing his hand and dropping the yellow sponge to the concrete.
“Told you he wouldn’t like the answer,” Olin said. “He has a thing against germs.”
“Doesn’t everyone?” Spencer said. “I mean, who really likes germs?”
“I do!” Dez said. “Germs rock!”
“You’re disgusting,” said Daisy.
“If by disgusting you mean amazing!” He flexed his large biceps.
“What does a spit sponge do?” Rho asked.
“Spencer,” Sach said, “when you activate the magical Aura, what do you do?”
“I spit,” answered Spencer.
“Right. And when you touched that sponge, your Glopified spit was infused into it,” Sach explained. “Now you don’t have to wait for a regeneration period. You don’t even have to spit. All you have to do is wring a bit of spit out of the sponge, rub your hands together to activate the Glop, and you’re at full power.”
Spencer stared at the wet sponge lying at his feet. It was a brilliant tool, and it could make a huge difference in getting needed Glopified supplies into the hands of the Rebels.
But, really? A spit sponge? Could it get any grosser than that? Even if it was his own spit, Spencer didn’t want to pick it up, let alone carry it around.
“What if it . . . leaks?” Spencer asked.
“It won’t,” Aryl said. “The sponge will only release the spit when you squeeze it with the same hand that Glopified it. To the rest of us, the sponge feels dry.”
Marv bent over and picked it up. Spencer was surprised to see that the sponge hadn’t left a wet mark on the concrete where he had dropped it. Still, Marv shouldn’t be touching other people’s spit sponges. Spencer reached out and took it from him.
“I don’t know about you,” Olin said, “but my neck is really itchy. You know, I don’t think I’ve been able to scratch it for about two hundred years.”
Spencer shook his head. Here he was, worried about the germs in his spit sponge, while the three Dark Aurans were still under the curse of the Broomstaff.
Spencer held up his sponge and squeezed. A dribble of saliva ran into his left palm. He shivered, trying really hard not to think about what it was. Instead, he focused on the task ahead.
“It’s time to set you guys free.”
Chapter 5
“We’re in this together.”
Olin was the first to get un-Panned. Spencer extended his glowing left hand and pressed it against the hard bronze. A bright magical pulse shot through the metal. There was a resounding crack, and Spencer stepped back.
Olin leaned forward. The dustpan around his neck was no longer Glopified. A jagged split down the back let the first bit of fresh air onto the bare skin of his neck. Olin reached up, taking the Pan in both hands and bending it open. It slipped away from his body, and he let it clang to the concrete pad.
His skin looked raw and painful. Huge calluses had formed on the spots where the Pan rubbed most. The rest of his body, tanned and tough from so many years in the Texas sun, was a stark contrast to the pale, tender flesh that had been hidden under the Pan.
Olin reached up and rubbed his neck with both hands. There was a huge smile on his face and he finally broke into a joyful laugh.
“Is it as good as you remembered?” Aryl asked.
Olin nodded. “Even better.”
“What are you waiting for?” Aryl asked Spencer, clearly anxious to go free. “There’s plenty of spit in that sponge. Once you release the three of us, we’ll Glopify sponges for ourselves. Then we’ll see if we can’t create a few more weapons for your Rebel friends.”
Spencer nodded. The spit sponge was a bonus he hadn’t expected. He already felt more useful, knowing he could use his Glopifying powers without waiting for them to regenerate.
Wringing out the spit sponge twice more, Spencer quickly un-Panned Aryl and then Sach.
“I don’t get it,” Dez said, watching the Dark Aurans laugh and rejoice. “So they took off their weird necklace thingies. What’s the big deal?”
“It’s not a necklace,” Daisy explained. Marv and Dez hadn’t been with them on their first trip to the landfill. “It’s a Glopified dustpan that stopped them from using their powers and kept them trapped on the landfill.”
“What kind of powers?” Marv asked.
“Basically the same as Spencer’s,” said Daisy. “But they’ve got a lot more experience.”
“Sissy powers,” Dez said. “Nothing beats my wings.”
Sach twisted his head back and forth, feeling the full range of motion in his neck that the Pan had denied him. He gave a celebratory laugh and kicked his broken Pan. It skidded across the concrete pad and came to rest at the feet of someone who had just stepped out of the Auran building.
It was V.
She stood rigid, her impossibly long white hair swirling around her in the breeze. She held a slender black shovel in one hand like a staff, the butt of the rawhide-wrapped handle against the ground, with the tapered trowel above her head. In her other hand, she casually held a mug of soda, brimming with fizzy bubbles.
V’s presence instantly killed the jubilation of the Dark Aurans. They stood beside Rho and the Rebels, watching the thin girl walk slowly toward them.
“Free at last,” V said, gesturing to the fallen, de-Glopified Pans. “What will you do with your newfound freedom?”
It was silent for a moment. Then Aryl replied. “I suppose it’s time to do what the Witches created us to do.”
“What’s that?” Spencer asked.
“Destroy the Toxites,” said Olin. “Forever.”
“You have a plan?” V asked.
Sach chuckled. “Plans,” he said, “happen to be our specialty.”
“I’ll call the others,” V said. She lifted the mug to her lips like she might take a sip, but paused when Aryl cut in.
“No,” he answered, striding toward the Auran building. “We’ll take it from here. Just us and the Rebels. The last thing we need are you meddling girls.”
V’s face darkened and she lowered her mug. With her other hand, she swung the Spade around until the pointed shovel stopped just under Aryl’s chin. “It’s no mystery that I don’t like you boys,” she muttered. “But the Witches have betrayed us all. We’re in this together. We agreed upon that.”
Olin stepped up, pushing the Spade away from his friend’s face. “Very well,” he said. “You alone. Besides, we might need your shovel.”
“What about Rho?” Spencer blurted. She was standing there between Marv and Dez, looking small. Under strict orders from Marv, the Sweeper boy was holding his breath again. Not only did it protect Rho from his Rubbish effects, but Spencer liked how it silenced Dez’s usual annoying commentary.
Rho stared in silent pleading at the Dark Aurans. If they were only going to trust one of the Auran girls, shouldn’t it be her?
“Why not?” Sach said. “Rho took a chance on us. Without her, we’d probably still be feuding.” He glanced around the concrete dumping pad, scanning for any of the other Auran girls. “Let’s hurry inside,” he said, “before the others come back.”
V led the way into the sturdy cinder-block building. Months had passed since Spencer had been inside, but the interior was just as gloomy and dim as he remembered. They moved down a hallway and into a spacious room where the vaulted ceiling was pocked with skylights.
The first time Spencer had met the Aurans it had been here, sitting around the large circular table with thirteen chairs. V and Rho had lied to him at this table. He was counting on it to be different this time.
Olin shut the door behind them, switching a dead bolt to lock it shut. Daisy, V, and Rho were already settling into the wooden chairs when Dez took a gasping breath.
“It’s light-headed,” Spencer corrected. “Although it’s hard for an empty head to get any lighter.”
“Whatever,” Dez said, still panting for breath.
“Hold it,” Marv demanded, one strong hand on the back of Dez’s neck.
“I don’t think that will be necessary any longer,” V said. The spade was propped against the tall back of her chair. She set down her mug and produced an aerosol can of vanilla air freshener. She spritzed a mist across the room, and Rho instantly perked up.
“Take a seat,” Marv ordered, dragging the annoying Sweeper into a chair beside him.
“I could take you down if I wanted to,” Dez grumbled.
Spencer rolled his eyes as he seated himself with the Dark Aurans. “We’re all on the same team,” he reminded Dez. He glanced across the table at V, hoping that was really true.
“Speaking of teams,” Sach said. “Last time you came to the landfill, there were more of you. Where are the other Rebels?”
There was a moment of silence before Marv answered. “This is us.”
“What do you mean?” Aryl asked. “What happened?”
“The BEM is capturing the Rebels, one by one,” Spencer answered. “They’ve got almost everyone. And those of us left are almost out of weapons.”
“What about the old warlock, Walter Jamison?” V asked. “Our visions went dark after the Witches returned.”
“So did mine,” Spencer said. “But you wouldn’t be able to see Walter anyway. When we opened the Glop source, the Witches took us by surprise.” Spencer swallowed hard at the horrible memory. “Walter didn’t survive.”
A respectful silence hung in the room. Then Sach continued. “Is there anyone left who might be of use to our cause?”
“What about the garbologist?” Rho asked.
Marv shrugged. “Haven’t heard from Bernard in a week. BEM probably got him by now.”
“We have Bookworm!” Daisy said.
Spencer and Rho shared a guilty glance. Marv seemed to study the wooden tabletop.
“He’s a great fighter and he can travel fast through the garbage,” Daisy went on.
“I don’t think we can count on Bookworm right now,” Spencer finally said.
“Why not?” Daisy asked.
“Well . . .” Spencer thought about telling her the truth, but he could only imagine the devastation it would cause her to find out about her missing parents and dead Thingamajunk. “Bookworm’s all the way back in Welcher,” Spencer invented. “I don’t think we have time to go get him.”
Daisy nodded. “Okay,” she said. “At least we know where to find him if we need him.”
“I can’t say I’m encouraged by our numbers,” Sach said. “You’re sure there’s no one else?”
Spencer thought about it for a moment. “I guess there’s Min and the Monitors,” he said. Min Lee was a genius kid they’d met at New Forest Academy. He had organized a network of student spies across the nation who monitored their school janitors and sent reports of suspicious activity. “But they’re just a bunch of regular students. I’m not sure how they’d do if we called on them to fight.”
“Let’s hope we don’t have to find out,” said Aryl. “But it doesn’t hurt to list them among our allies.”
“Now,” Olin said, “let’s get to business.” He turned to Spencer. “You said you helped Walter Jamison open the Glop source?” Spencer nodded. “So you know where it is?”
“It’s a drinking fountain at Welcher Elementary School,” he answered. “Why?”
“Because now it’s time to close the source.”
Chapter 6
“I love Bingo!”
Marv leaned across the circular table. “Believe me,” he said, “we’ve tried to destroy the source. Hit it with all we had. BEM has Sweepers protecting it.”
“The Glop source can’t be destroyed,” Olin explained. “But it can be closed.”
“How?” Daisy asked.
“The same way it was opened,” said Aryl. “With a Glop formula.”
Spencer remembered how he and Walter had added every ingredient to the drinking fountain. Spit of an Auran was the final element, which was why it had been necessary for Spencer to be there.
“As long as the source is open,” Sach said, “we run the risk of the Witches getting their wands back.”
“The bronze nails are safe for now,” Aryl cut in. “But it’s only a matter of time before the BEM finds them. If the Witches get their wands, this war will be lost.”
“So that’s why we have to close the source?” Daisy said.
Sach nodded. “There are a number of reasons. For every moment the source stays open, more Toxites are being introduced to the world.”
“Because Toxites are born out of Glop.” Spencer shot a glance over at V. She’d been recycling the nasty liquid with her Glopified pump house. But Spencer had put an end to that operation.
“Right,” said Olin. “But you have to understand what Glop is, and where it’s coming from.”
“Where?” Aside from the source, Spencer had never really thought about it.
“You’ve been there before,” Olin said. “The Dustbin.”
Dez moaned, obviously remembering when they had intentionally gotten sucked into the Vortex. “Not that place again! It was so . . . dusty!”
Marv folded his big arms. He’d spent more time in the Dustbin than any of them. “Glop comes from the Dustbin?”
“Indeed,” Sach said. “Everything ties back to the Dustbin. Think about it—when dust gets wet, what happens to it?”
“It turns to mud,” Spencer said.
“The Glop source is a spillway,” said Sach. “When the source is open, magic dust from the Dustbin leaks into our world. But crossing over the threshold causes the dust to weaken and destabilize. It turns into Glop.”
“So Glop is just muddy dust from the Dustbin?” Daisy asked.
“Basically,” said Aryl. “Hundreds of years ago, the Glop source opened for the first time. We don’t know exactly how it happened, but as a result, thousands of gallons of Glop leaked over from the Dustbin before the source could be closed. Since that time, those thousands of gallons have been recycled over and over, sustaining life for enough Toxites to continually regenerate and cover the nation. Now the source is open once more. Each day, hundreds of gallons of new Glop are leaking into this world through that drinking fountain in Welcher Elementary. It gets absorbed into the ground and mingles with the Glop that’s already here. This is causing the Toxite population to increase, since more Glop equals more Toxites.”
“So, if we close the Glop source, it’ll stop the Toxites?” Rho asked.
“It’ll stop the new flow of Toxites,” Aryl clarified. “Then we’ll just have to deal with the ones that already exist here—the hundreds of thousands that continue to regenerate in the Glop that has already leaked into the earth.”
“All this sounds lovely,” V said. “But who knows the formula to close the source?”
“We do.” All three of the Dark Aurans said it in unison.
“The Witches gave us the recipe the first time we closed the source,” said Olin. “That was a long time ago. We were just kids then. But you don’t forget something that important.”
“You guys closed the source before?” Spencer asked.
Sach nodded. “It was a direct order from the Founding Witches. We closed the source, sealing them inside, safe and sound until the day when they were supposed to return and help us.”
“Stinks to be you right now,” Dez said.
“Stinks to be all of us, if the Witches have turned evil,” Sach answered.
“When the Witches came back,” Spencer said, “what were they supposed to help you do?”
“Destroy all Toxites forever,” answered Olin.
“So there is a way?” Marv asked. It was what the Rebels had been searching for since Alan was rescu
ed from the dumpster prison.
“Remember the Instigators from the Dustbin?” Aryl asked.
Spencer nodded, and he saw Marv’s expression darken at the name. The Instigators were the rulers of the Dustbin. They had constructed a giant fortress, unleashing waves of toilet-paper mummies to wipe out any newcomers.
“The first time we entered the Dustbin,” Aryl continued, “we were prisoners of the Instigators. The Witches rescued us, but as we made our retreat from the Instigators’ fortress, we came across something horrible. We found the very place where Toxites originated. Three hideous nests. They were not occupied by giant beasts or monsters, but in the heart of the nests were three great brains, rotten and corrupted. Visible brain waves of light intertwined, spiraling heavenward like a beacon.”
Spencer felt a chill pass through him. He remembered what he’d seen as he rode the slipstream leaf blower out of the Dustbin. He’d looked across the wide expanse of endless dust and seen the dark fortress of the Instigators. He’d seen a beacon of eerie light rising from the heart of the black abode.
“The Instigators created the brain nests,” Aryl continued, “and the Witches told us that we were the only ones who had the power to destroy them. Within us was the ability to destroy Toxites forever. The Witches called us the heroes of the Dustbin.”
“So you have to go back there,” Spencer said. “Back to the Dustbin.”
“Eventually, yes,” answered Sach. “But first, there’s something we must find in order to succeed.”
“We need the scissors,” said Olin.
“You should have told me,” Daisy said. “I have some in my backpack. I could have brought them.”
Olin chuckled. “These are no ordinary scissors. They are likely the most powerful Glopified tool in history.”
“More powerful than the Vortex?” Spencer asked. The deadly vacuum bag and the Spade were the strongest things he’d encountered.
“Three times more powerful, you might say,” said Sach. “We Glopified the scissors together, before we got Panned. Using our combined magic, we created something that would be strong enough to sever the brain waves from the nests.”
Heroes of the Dustbin Page 4