by Sheila Grau
“Syke!” I screamed. “Frankie, we have to get her down!”
“No!” Syke yelled. “Don’t waste time! Go!” With a heave, she threw her backpack at us. “You’ll need it more than—”
And she was gone.
“Syke!” I yelled as she disappeared into the trees.
I looked at Frankie.
“You knew?” he said.
“I only just found out. I didn’t know what to do.”
Thumping giant gorilla steps shook the ground, heading our way. Frankie picked up Syke’s backpack and handed it to me, and I jumped onto his back. He ran so fast I thought I was going to throw up from all the jarring changes of direction and stops and starts. Twice I was hit by flaming pebbles that burned holes in my shirt as fire rained from the volcano.
The forest thinned out and I noticed black shapes in the smoky air above us. They swooped between the trees silently. For a second, I thought it might be Syke, but there were three of them. They were big and dark, and they were following us. Frankie sped through the trees almost as fast as my heart was racing. I was terrified. Who knew what other horrific monsters Pravus had stationed around here?
We had to make it to the waterfall. I knew we were getting close because I could hear the sound of rushing water ahead. We broke through the trees and faced a giant pool at the base of the cascade. Frankie screeched to a halt, and I jumped off his back. He didn’t seem winded at all, but I was wheezing and unsteady on my feet.
The waterfall was not a straight drop of water, but more like a river on a tilt, the water sliding over a rocky path down the mountain. The pool was wide and calm, edged by boulders and shrubs and pine trees. A gravel path wound around the pool to the base of the waterfall.
I patted Frankie on the back. “Great job,” I said. “We made it. Now we just have to find that flame under the waterfall.” But as we started off on the path, three winged creatures, each as big as a full-grown man, dropped down in front of us, leering with menace.
Sometimes you need to shake things up.
—DR. CRITCHLORE’S EARTHQUAKE IN A CAN™ PRODUCT MOTTO
They spread out, blocking the trail. Though they were big, they looked like teenagers, and they stared at us with the sneering gaze of a bully who’d just come across an unprotected underclassman.
“Those are ahools,” Frankie said.
“Shh, Frankie,” I whispered. “Don’t be rude.”
“Remember Rimbo? He graduated two years ago? He was an ahool. Looked like a giant bat. Got detention all the time for raiding Tootles’s fruit orchard.”
“Oh yeah,” I said, remembering. Rimbo was kind of creepy. Like these guys, he had a stubby nose; huge, pointy ears; and big fangs. His wings were so large he had trouble navigating the hallways, and he was always angry. These guys looked angry too.
“That’s a Pravus crest on their chest armor,” I added.
I reached into Syke’s backpack, hoping to find the perfect dress for this occasion. I pulled one on over my head as Frankie held the bats off by swinging a very large stick.
One of the beasts swooped right at Frankie, which was a mistake, because Frankie has crazy-fast reflexes. He easily dodged the attack, swung around to grab the flying man-bat by the legs, and flung him into the water, hard. The ahool sank down, only to come up with his wings smacking at the water uselessly.
“It looks like he can’t swim,” Frankie said to the others. “Better help him.” The other two backed up a step.
I clapped my hands, hoping that some sort of defense would pop out of my dress, but all that happened was a blast of perfume filled the air. It smelled fruity, which just incited the bats more. I’d turned myself into a delicious-smelling snack.
“I would have gone with the Jetpack dress for this situation,” Frankie said. “Maybe accessorized with some of Frieda’s rings.”
I yanked the dress over my head and threw it at the ahools, who swarmed over to it, drool leaking from their mouths. I reached in for another dress.
“I’ll keep them off you,” Frankie said. “Go up that trail and find the flame.”
“Okay.” I stuffed the dresses into my pack and took off. I kept checking behind me, the hairs on my neck prickling. One of the ahools tried to fly over Frankie to get me, but he underestimated Frankie’s jumping ability by a lot. Who wouldn’t? Frankie looked like a kid who’d get winded tying his shoes. But he sprang into the air like a flea and knocked the ahool into the water, where it joined its struggling partner. Their wings were just too big and unwieldy in the water. Frankie turned to the third, now hiding behind a tree.
I was on my own. No Frankie. No Syke. No Critchlore and no Coach Foley. Just me and a clock ticking down on Professor Zaida’s life.
I hurried up the hill. My hand felt for the little vial of antidote in my pocket. I had to reach her in time. I had to.
The path disappeared into the rocks that lined the waterfall. I didn’t see a flame anywhere, so I kept climbing. The rocks were slippery and steep. I stopped every few steps to scan the wide waterfall for any sign of a flame. But how could a flame keep burning under a waterfall? The more I thought about it, the more ridiculous it seemed. I kept climbing, my legs complaining with every step. The sun had also abandoned me, slipping away like a coward. Now the mountain face was draped in smoky darkness.
The ground kept shaking, and the sound of explosions reverberated around me. I heard a crackling sound that made me think of fire. Smoke rose off to the left, joining the ash that already filled the sky. Soon, there’d be fire everywhere, and my task would become impossible.
I reached a wall of sheer granite too high to climb. I pulled Trinka’s dress out of my pack and flung the polka-dot disks at the wall, where they made a line of little stairs I could climb with my toes.
I pulled myself over the ridge and scanned the next section of the falls. There, a dark, curving space stretched beneath a flat granite ledge. Water rushed over the ledge in separate streams, joining up in a little pool before continuing downhill.
I stepped over wet rocks until I was parallel with that ledge. I crouched down, looking into the darkness beneath, but I didn’t see anything. Carefully, I stepped closer to the middle of the falls, jumping over one of the streams until I was right in front of the cave, one hand balancing on the wet rock. I reached deep into my backpack and pulled out a pair of Pismo’s gloves. The finger lights lit up the dark, empty space.
The little cave was only a meter high. I ducked down and snuck inside, hoping to see the sign, but I found myself in a cave with no flame.
This isn’t it.
But it did smell bad, like rotten eggs. I pulled out my Dr. Critchlore’s PocketTool™ and unfolded some attachments until I found the right one: not the screwdriver, or the tweezers, or the tooth floss, but the mini-flamethrower. It was only good for one short blast, so I aimed it at the back of the cave and gave it a shot. The cave filled with light for a moment and I had to shield my eyes. When I opened them, a small flame was burning on the floor of the cave.
Someone had put it out, and I had just relit it.
Zaida? Or Dr. Pravus?
I crawled forward. The cave was small and wet, and continued into the mountain. I was able to hunch through, bending low, and the gloves lit up the space around me. The walls were close; I could touch both sides as I made my way down the gently sloping tunnel.
The space widened, and soon I was walking upright. I flashed my fingers forward and saw a T-junction ahead, so I raced for it. My narrow tunnel came to a dead end at a much bigger tunnel road, big enough to drive a car down, and it was dark in both directions.
Which way? I tried to picture the mountain outside. If the waterfall was the Great Lady’s head, her body stretched to the right, so I went that way. I didn’t hear any sounds except my own panicked breathing.
The tunnel curved, and I felt like I was running farther into the mountain. It wasn’t long before I reached another dead end. I faced a huge blast door that had to
be a foot thick, and it was opened at a slight angle, letting the light from inside escape.
I slowly peeked in. Opening up before me was a room so massive it made me think the entire mountain had been hollowed out.
I tiptoed inside, awed by the enormous space in front of me. I forgot my panic as I realized I was standing in the Great Library. I was standing in history. In forbidden history. I was standing in the most important and secret place in the world, and it was spectacular.
I stood in a central walkway of a room that was longer than the boulderball field at school. The arched ceiling was seven stories above me, painted to look like the night sky. Thousands of stars seemed to glow like photophores up there, providing enough light for me to see the shine on the floor, and the spines of the books. Each story held row after row of stacks stretching into the darkness at the sides, and they were all filled with books.
The weight of the room—of all that knowledge—was overwhelming. I felt so small, so insignificant. I could live a thousand lives and not learn everything that was contained in that room. Pravus had said that wisdom is knowing what you don’t know. He was wrong. I was staring at a mountain of books, an ocean of things I would never know, and I didn’t feel wise. I felt like I’d never be more than a ripple in that ocean. We had learned so much in our time on this planet that I could never comprehend it all.
Maybe that was how it was supposed to be. Maybe we were supposed to feel humble. No matter how much any single person knows, it’s nothing but a snowflake in an avalanche of knowledge.
I tiptoed over to the nearest column on my right. It was marked with a code for whatever books were held on its shelves, but I didn’t understand it. It was something library-ish, I’m sure. GPC 1500–1502. Across the aisle, the stacks were marked with Fiction OIR Repulgio–Rexultor.
I could find out about the Oti here. I could find out where I was from. But that didn’t matter now; I had to find Professor Zaida. I walked forward, staying near the stacks so I could duck into an aisle if I saw Pravus or one of his henchmen. Thumps still echoed from outside, but this long room was quiet.
After walking for a few miles (not really, but it was a long way), I approached a place where a wider aisle crossed the room. The right side was dark, but weak light seeped into the hallway from the left. I ducked behind the nearest bookshelf and peeked through. A long table stretched down the middle of the wide aisle, and on one of these tables was the source of the light: a desk lamp.
And standing beside the table was Dr. Pravus.
Gulp.
—THAT IS ALL.
I was alone in a room with Dr. Pravus, again. If a giant were squeezing me in his fist while a dragon got ready to blast me with fire, I would not have felt more terrified than I did looking at that man. It was a fear so paralyzing, so crushing, that I wanted to curl into a ball and close my eyes and pray for the world to end before he discovered I was there.
But I didn’t. I peeked through the books, getting as low as I could, and spied on him. His attention was completely focused on a book that lay open on the table. It was a book I’d seen before, locked up in Dr. Critchlore’s office. The Top Secret Book of Minions. Or it was an exact copy.
I crouched down, wondering what to do. I had to find Professor Zaida. I had to get that book. And I had to make sure Pravus didn’t see me. I was mostly focused on that last one.
I peeked through again, slowly. So slowly. I assumed that Dr. Pravus had a keen sense of movement, like most predators. He examined the book with a gleam of victory, reverently turning pages, his smile widening as he discovered the secrets inside.
Footsteps approached from the far end of the library. I stayed hidden, listening to the uneven steps, coupled with the sound of a struggle. Two people turned down the hallway in front of me, and I caught a glimpse of them—a man and a girl with shimmering hair. Oh no.
“Look what I found sneaking in your new entrance,” the man said. It was the chameleon, I was sure of it, and he held Syke roughly by the arm. “Seemed to pop out of the trees like magic and dropped in right behind our guards.”
“Who is she?”
“She won’t say,” the chameleon said.
Syke was wearing Verduccia’s green knife-sleeved dress. I rummaged in the backpack, looking for something, anything. But none of the dresses seemed like they’d be helpful here: not the Jetpack, or the Slip-n-Slide, or the Side Puncher. I needed something to incapacitate two villains while I saved Syke, and I had nothing.
“Tie her to the banister,” Pravus said. “You remember the plan?”
Please say no, please say no. I need to know the plan.
“Yes.”
“Then take this book and go.”
Go where? To do what? What’s the plan? C’mon, guys, now’s a good time for a chat!
“I remember you now,” Pravus said to Syke. “You’re from Critchlore’s. You play tackle three-ball, and you’re quite good. How many more Critchlore minions are here?”
“Thirty-seven,” Syke said. “We’re on a field trip. Dr. Critchlore is here too. He’ll probably be wondering why you’ve attacked another minion school. That’s against the Directives. You’ll be banished to Skelterdam if you don’t get out of here now.”
Dr. Pravus laughed. “Critchlore is trapped in a field on the far side of the river. We saw his dragon go down, thanks to the defensive measures of the librarians. Your PE teacher won’t be here either; my giant gorillas intercepted him, and the man with the off-road vehicle too. That leaves just the two of us.”
He put on some gloves, watching Syke intently. I edged down my row, to be closer to them. Syke was out of my line of sight, but Pravus stood tall and threatening.
“Perhaps I can squeeze some truth out of you.” He reached down and Syke screamed. Pravus struggled to hold a thrashing Syke, but his face showed nothing but amusement. “Now tell me . . . how did Dr. Critchlore find out about the library? How did he know to stop my takeover? TELL ME!”
“I don’t know.” Syke’s voice sounded raspy and weak.
“Pity.”
Looking at his face, I felt it again—that hand on my throat. I felt the horror that he would squeeze the life out of me without a care. And now he was doing that to Syke.
“Leave her alone,” I said. All of a sudden, I found myself pushing books off the shelf in front of me and crawling through. I don’t remember telling my body to do that.
Pravus turned, releasing his grip. When he did, Syke screamed “Runt, run!”
The full power and evil of Pravus’s attention was on me, and I wanted to run. I shook with how badly I wanted to run. Every nerve ending in my body screamed at me to obey her. But I couldn’t leave Syke sitting on the floor, her hands bound to the banister next to the staircase.
“Another child,” Pravus said. He laughed as he approached me. “I was expecting Dr. Critchlore to send some of his more . . . adequate employees.”
“Where’s Professor Zaida?” I asked.
“The dwarf? Dead, probably,” he said. He lunged toward me, just as he had in Dr. Critchlore’s office, but I was ready for the move, and I rolled under the table, popping up on the other side.
“Runt, listen to me,” Syke said. “I heard screams coming from a room at the end of the hall. Run!”
Pravus had never taken his eyes off me. “Ah, yes,” he said. “I remember you as well. That’s what you do, isn’t it? Run. Like a coward. Don’t listen to your friend. I will go much easier on you if you don’t run. If you do . . . it will be unpleasant.”
My heart pounded so hard I thought I was going to throw up. Pravus pulled out a slim metal tube and blew on one end. A faint, high-pitched whistle came out of it.
“You have a few seconds,” he said. “One of you will tell me how Dr. Critchlore found out about the library. The other will experience pain and terror so magnificent I will almost feel sorry for you.”
I pulled out my medallion and looked at Syke. She was trying to tell me something. She nod
ded at her hands and made a silent coughing face. She wanted me to make some noise.
Pravus had backtracked around the end of the table and was approaching me again. I reached behind me and knocked a row of books to the floor, trying to stop his advance. I backed up and threw more books in his path. I kept throwing books, and he calmly stepped over them.
“I’ll tell you,” I said, my hands up in surrender. The truth was, Dr. Critchlore didn’t find out about the library, and it had been his dumb luck that he blocked Pravus’s takeover, but I didn’t want Pravus to know that. I thought about Uncle Ludwig, and how he asked questions and then answered them himself, just to prove how smart he was, so I decided to see if that would work here.
“I’ll tell you,” I repeated. “But I’m surprised you don’t know. Dr. Critchlore always tells us how clever you are.”
He scowled and then closed a fist in anger. “It was my henchman Waverley,” he said, nodding. I felt my eyes widen, shocked that my tactic had worked. “Of course,” he said, taking my reaction as confirmation of his guess. “Waverley was careless, which is why I staged that little scene at the Evil Overlord Council. People knew he was talking to me. I had to make it look like he was only loyal to Tankotto. But Critchlore figured it out, didn’t he?”
Probably not.
“Thank you for the information. Your cowardice has saved your life. The girl will not be so fortunate.”
“What girl?” I asked.
Pravus turned around and saw only severed ropes next to the railing. As soon as his attention was off me, I turned and ran . . .
. . . right into a wall of Girl Explorers.
“You’ll pay for this,” Pravus said. “The girl too. You have a few seconds before my minions rip the skin off your body and reduce you to bones.”
I laughed. I don’t know why—maybe I was hysterical with fear. It wasn’t the reaction Pravus had been expecting. He bristled at my laugh. Clearly he was used to intimidating people.