by Jason Segel
Then a noise outside put his thoughts on hold. It was a soft crunch, as if someone had stepped on the mulch-covered flower bed right under his window.
Charlie sat bolt upright. He’d never heard that particular sound before—and he’d spent enough time awake at night to be familiar with all the weird noises the purple mansion made. He knew it creaked and groaned in even the gentlest wind. The soft, stealthy footsteps that often passed outside his door belonged to Charlotte’s cat, Aggie, who patrolled the halls while the Laird family slept. (Once bitter enemies, Charlie and the cat had finally declared a truce, and it had been over a month since Charlie had woken up with cat butt in his face.) Downstairs, the dishwasher would always beep as it switched itself off, and ominous gurgles would issue from the bathroom drains.
But Charlie had never heard anything like the sound he’d just heard. Listening closely, barely breathing, Charlie picked up the slap of the plastic dog door in the mansion’s kitchen. Rufus, the family mutt, must have popped inside for a snack. Charlie waited for the familiar sound of Rufus’s slurping and chomping. When the house stayed silent, he lay back down and let his thoughts return to the girl who’d kicked him out of the dream.
Could it be possible? he wondered as he stared at the ceiling. Could the sheep and the darkness belong to ICK? No, it didn’t make sense. Why would a villain have nightmares about a flock of sheep? Why would a little humming drive her so insane? And why the heck was he in her dream?
Charlie hadn’t even begun to consider the answers when his ears detected a new noise, and his heart stopped. This time, Charlie knew exactly what it was. There were fifteen stairs between the first and second floors of the purple mansion. If you stepped in the middle of the thirteenth stair, it squeaked like a rubber mouse.
Charlie rolled over to face the door. A faint golden light was leaking into his room. Someone was in the hall outside. Charlie slid his legs over the edge of the mattress until he felt the hard wooden floor beneath his toes. He tried to convince himself that it was just his little brother heading to the bathroom for a pee. But then the soft clunk of a chain against wood confirmed his worst fears. Someone was messing with the locks on the tower door. And Charlie knew it wasn’t Jack.
He tiptoed to his bedroom door and slowly pulled it open, trying his best not to make any noise. A girl was standing at the other end of the hall with one ear pressed against the tower door. In her hand she gripped what looked like a small blowtorch, lit with a bright blue flame.
“Izzie!” INK whispered at the door. “Izzie! Are you there? Can you hear me?”
There was no response. The hall was so silent that Charlie could hear tree branches swaying in the wind outside.
“Izzie, this is no time for jokes. I’m going to try to get you out, but I’ll have to come back later with something that can crack these locks. I need to ask you a question first.”
Once again, there was only silence. Then Charlie’s dad started snoring in a nearby bedroom.
“Come on, Izzie!” INK pleaded. “It’s very important! I need to know what you remember about Father’s formula!”
Suddenly Charlie heard footsteps on the stairs behind the tower door. ICK was coming down for a chat with her sister. Charlie crept forward along the hall, hoping to eavesdrop on the conversation. Then his shoulder brushed against a portrait of one of Charlotte’s weird redheaded ancestors and knocked it off the wall. The frame crashed to the ground, sending shards of glass flying in every direction.
INK spun around. In the light of the torch, her face was horrible to behold. Her eyes were red and ringed with shadows, while her pale cheeks appeared swollen. She looked as though she might have been crying.
“It’s you,” she said. “The boy from school.”
Charlie straightened his spine and did his best to look taller. “I live here,” he told the girl. “And it’s my job to keep you from opening that door.”
“My sister is behind there,” INK said. “You can’t keep me out.”
“We’ll see about that.” Charlie took one step in the girl’s direction and shrieked with pain when his right big toe was speared by a shard of broken glass. The moment the scream left his lips, the light went on in the bedroom Charlie’s dad shared with Charlotte. He heard the sound of bedsprings creaking and heavy feet hitting the floorboards. His dad was coming out to investigate.
INK must have heard it too. While Charlie was plucking the glass from his toe, she hit the stairs running. Charlie couldn’t follow without cutting his feet to ribbons on the broken glass, so he ducked back into his room and grabbed some sneakers. He slid them onto his feet and made it as far as the doorway when he heard his father shout, “Charlotte, grab the bedspread!”
He found his dad at the top of the stairs, a golden light illuminating his face from below. For a moment, Charlie had no idea what was happening. And then he smelled the smoke and heard the crackling of flames. The purple mansion’s stairway was on fire, and the blaze was already making its way toward the portrait of Silas DeChant on the landing. Charlotte ran from the master bedroom, her wild red curls springing in every direction. She tossed the bedspread to Charlie’s father, and then sprinted into Jack’s room for another. Andrew Laird threw the thick blanket over the flames and began to smother them as Charlotte arrived back on the scene with the second blanket. The fire was almost completely out before the alarms bothered to go off. Charlie knew what that meant. If he hadn’t cut his foot and screamed, his father might not have been alerted in time. The thought nearly scared him to death. Another second or two and the fire could have raged out of control. The purple mansion could have burned down. And there was a good chance that his family wouldn’t have made it out alive.
Charlie watched his dad examine the giant black burn mark on the wallpaper that lined the staircase. When Andrew Laird looked up, his eyes landed on his son and traveled down to the sneakers on his feet. “Why are you wearing shoes?” he asked. “What the heck just happened here?”
Jack came out of his bedroom, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with his knuckles. “Did Charlie set the house on fire?”
“It wasn’t me. It was her. She had some kind of blowtorch,” Charlie said before he had a chance to think things through. “She must have set the wallpaper on fire as she went down the stairs.”
Behind Andrew, Charlotte pressed a finger against her lips. She didn’t want him to say any more.
“Who did?” Andrew demanded.
Charlie paused. He was close to breaking Charlotte’s most important rule: no matter what happened, Andrew Laird couldn’t find out about the portal. Knowledge of the Netherworld was as much a curse as it was a blessing, Charlotte always said. The portal chose who could see it. She didn’t want her beloved husband burdened with protecting another realm.
Usually Charlie agreed with his stepmom, but this time he was torn. She wasn’t asking him to hide the source of a few mysterious noises. The fire INK set had nearly killed them all. Charlie couldn’t lie to his dad about something so important. “It was a girl about my age,” he told him. “I think her name is India.”
Jack gasped at the name and looked at Charlotte.
“You’re telling me some kid nearly burned down our house?” Andrew asked skeptically. “You’ve got to be joking. What was she doing in here?”
Charlie shook his head. “I’m not sure, but I saw her. She was running down the stairs, and she had something that looked like a blowtorch in her hand. It must have set the wallpaper on fire.”
“Charlie, are you sure about all this?” Charlotte asked nervously. “Is it possible that you might have been dreaming?”
“No,” Charlie answered defiantly. “It wasn’t a dream. And she wasn’t a ghost either.”
When Andrew Laird looked back at his son, Charlie could tell he believed him. “Where did the girl go?”
Charlie pointed down the stairs. “She ran out the front door.”
Andrew Laird sighed. “Forget the wallpaper. There’s
a kid wandering around Cypress Creek by herself in the middle of the night with a blowtorch?” He stepped back into the bedroom and emerged again with his cell phone and a sweater. “Jack, go back to bed. Charlotte, call the police and tell them there’s a little girl on the loose. I’m going to take a spin around the neighborhood and see if I can find her.”
“And I’m going with you,” Charlie told his father.
—
Charlie’s dad drove slowly through the streets of Cypress Creek, searching for any sign of the girl who had nearly burned down his house. Charlie suspected that INK was long gone—and part of him was glad. There was so much his dad didn’t know, and now wasn’t the best time to tell him. Answering his questions about the fire had been tricky enough. Charlie had tried his best to be truthful without giving too much away, but it didn’t feel good.
The car’s headlights lit the way as Charlie’s dad turned onto one of the wooded streets at the edge of town. While Andrew Laird kept his eyes on the road, Charlie watched the trees go by. The forest outside Cypress Creek was vast and wild. Bears and bobcats lived there. Some people claimed Bigfoot did too. Ms. Abbot’s house was in there somewhere, which meant that the woods were home to at least one witch. The moon was out, and here and there, beams of silvery light broke through the trees and cast pale circles on the ground.
As Charlie was watching, he saw something dash through one of the moonbeams. He caught his breath and pressed his forehead to the window. His dad hit the brakes and the car skidded to a stop.
“What is it?” Andrew Laird asked. “Did you see something?”
“Yeah, I saw a white thing running through the woods,” Charlie told him. It had been moving fast, as if desperate to avoid the car’s headlights.
“In the woods?” his father asked. The woods were no place for a kid to be alone at night. “Do you think it could have been a deer?”
Charlie sighed. “I guess so,” he told his dad.
It could have been, he thought, but it wasn’t.
Andrew Laird yawned and mussed Charlie’s hair. “What do you say we head back to the house? Both of us have school in the morning, and I think we’ve done all we can for one night. We’ll let the police take over from here.”
“Yeah,” Charlie agreed with an exaggerated yawn. His nerves were on edge, and he wasn’t sleepy at all.
“Then let’s go,” Andrew Laird said. “I’m sure the cops will find the girl.” But the car wasn’t moving, and he was still looking at his son. “You know, there may be a giant burn mark on our wall, but I’m glad I had a chance to spend time with you. Maybe we should chase delinquents together more often.”
“You bet,” Charlie answered with a wide grin.
But inside, he was miserable.
By noon the following day, the police had already performed a thorough search of Cypress Creek Elementary—and found no trace of the twelve-year-old arsonist who’d nearly burned down the purple mansion. On his way to lunch, Charlie overheard two teachers questioning the very existence of the missing girl. Apparently, India Kessog hadn’t been officially enrolled in the school, and her parents could not be identified. But Charlie knew INK was real, and he wasn’t taking any chances. He kept an eye on the clock in the school cafeteria. At exactly twelve-fifteen, Rocco, Paige, and Alfie marched through the door like well-trained soldiers and claimed seats across from Charlie.
“The cafeteria and auditorium are clear,” Charlie told his friends.
“So are the gym and the boys’ locker room,” Rocco said.
“And the girls’ locker room and east wing classrooms,” Paige added.
“There’s no sign of any miniature villains in the west wing classrooms or administrative offices either,” Alfie reported.
“So she’s definitely not at school today,” Charlie concluded.
“The building is completely INK free,” Paige confirmed.
“What I don’t understand is why none of the teachers figured out she didn’t belong here yesterday,” Alfie said.
“Duh,” Paige replied. “Nobody expects kids to lie their way into school.”
“Good point,” Alfie admitted.
“Okay, then,” Charlie said, getting back to business. “After school, let’s all meet on the front steps and get ready for a hike through the forest. The last place I spotted INK was in the woods around Freeman Road.”
“Hey, would it be okay if Alfie and I caught up with you guys a little bit later in the afternoon?” Rocco asked. “We’ve got football practice right after school, and I need to be there. Jancy Dare got totally chewed out by the principal yesterday, and I bet she’d love to pay me back by starting a mutiny.”
“Fine,” Charlie said. Though he wasn’t thrilled to be short two men, there wasn’t much he could do. “But since when did Alfie join the football team?” He looked over at the boy, who was wearing a T-shirt that proclaimed I LOVE PI. “I thought you’d sworn off exercise.”
“Oh, I have,” Alfie assured him. “But you don’t really work up a sweat when you’re the water boy.”
“Wait—you’re the sucker who agreed to be water boy this year?” Paige scoffed. Everyone in Cypress Creek knew it was a thankless job. When Jancy couldn’t find a quarterback to pummel, she’d often settle for the water boy.
“It’s not very glamorous, I’ll admit. But it’s an important first step toward a Nobel Prize,” Alfie said. “I’ve been adding a few special ingredients to the water I serve. You might say that I’ve turned the entire football team into guinea pigs.”
Rocco scowled. “Don’t say that,” he warned Alfie. “Ever. You promised me that stuff was just vitamins and electrolytes.”
“It is, it is!” Alfie assured him.
“Well, I’m free to hunt for INK after school,” Paige piped up. “Charlie, do you mind if it’s just you and me?”
“Nope,” Charlie said with a smile. “Not at all.”
The truth was, there was nothing he would have minded less. In fact, fifteen minutes later, he was still smiling as he and Paige sat down at their lab table in science class.
“Good afternoon,” said a voice at the front of the room, and Charlie’s pleasant daydream came to an end. Ms. Abbot was wearing a stylish black dress, as if she were planning to go straight from class to a cocktail party in the teachers’ lounge. She also seemed to be sporting a rather unusual piece of jewelry around her neck. Thin and black, with red and yellow stripes, it looked as though it was made out of rubber.
“Since this is our first official day of science class, I thought we’d kick off the school year by studying something fun,” the teacher informed the students.
Charlie lurched forward in his seat. He was pretty sure he’d just seen Ms. Abbot’s necklace move.
“I’d like you all to meet Darwin,” the teacher said, twisting her necklace around to reveal a head and a tail. Several kids squealed, and a boy who’d been sitting in the first row bolted to the back of the room. “Can anyone tell me what kind of snake Darwin is?”
“It’s a coral snake,” Paige answered without bothering to raise her hand. She never really needed to. In the classes she and Charlie had without Alfie, Paige was the one who knew all the answers. “It’s the only North American snake that belongs to the cobra family. And I’m really surprised that you brought one to class. Coral snakes are super dangerous.”
Two more kids in the front row abandoned their seats and scrambled for safety.
“Oh, really?” Ms. Abbot replied nonchalantly. “Are they venomous or poisonous?”
“Venomous,” Paige answered. “Things that bite or sting you are venomous. Things that make you sick if you eat them are poisonous.”
“Very good, Miss Bretter,” Ms. Abbot said. “I asked two tough questions and you got one of them right.”
The smug grin that had been growing on Paige’s face disappeared. “Which one did I miss?”
Ms. Abbot gave Darwin a little kiss. “This is not a coral snake,” she said. “Th
is is a scarlet king snake. They look nearly identical, but while the coral snake could kill us all with a single drop of its venom, Darwin here is perfectly harmless unless you’re a cricket. Which brings us to the subject of today’s lesson: mimicry. Who can tell me what that means?”
Charlie was surprised to feel his own hand rising. Charlotte had taught him all about mimicry during one of their weekend afternoons at Hazel’s Herbarium. “It’s when a species evolves to look like something else. There’s a plant called the mimicry plant that looks exactly like a rock. And your snake is a mimic too. Darwin is harmless, but his stripes make him look like another species that no one would want to mess with. He’s probably safer from predators that way.”
“Yes, though Darwin might have more friends if he didn’t resemble a killer,” Ms. Abbot remarked. “Excellent answer, Charlie.” Then she smiled at the kids who’d abandoned their seats at the front of the class. “Are you ladies and gentlemen ready to come back yet? You don’t want to hurt Darwin’s feelings, do you?”
While the kids slunk back to their seats, Paige leaned over to Charlie. “It works the other way around too, doesn’t it?” she asked. “Sometimes dangerous creatures pretend to be harmless ones. Like ICK and INK. They get away with murder because they look like cute little dolls. INK practically burned down your house last night, and what did your dad do? He drove around all night trying to save her.”
“Hmmm,” Charlie said. “If I shouldn’t trust cute girls, then maybe I should find a new best friend.”
Paige batted her eyelids and grinned slyly. “You think I’m cute?”
Charlie felt his face flushing. That wasn’t what he’d meant to say. He turned back to the front of the room, where Ms. Abbot was starting her lecture, and tried to ignore Paige’s tittering.