“Hang on, Fleggs,” Billy called as he grabbed the horse’s halter.
After a quick clamber up to the saddlebags and an even quicker one down, Billy held a purple silk sack bound tight by a gold drawstring. It was fat with golden wishes.
Fleggs nickered. It sounded like a soft chuckle. Then with more sparks and clatters, but significantly fewer jingles, Fleggs shot through the fog and vanished.
Billy wondered where he could hide the gold and then remembered one of the great advantages of being a skeleton. An empty ribcage is a wonderful place to stash your loot. Gold secured, he bounded toward the tavern door.
Hammer slammers! I hope this thing is open! He whipped up the steps, flinging the door open.
“Young man. Most people know not to come messing about in the Boneyard.” Mrs. Lumbus cracked her large knuckles. She gave Billy the once-over. “Don’t you have a pretty blue glow. Not very common for a skeleton.”
“I’m here to see my great-many-greats grandfather Pete.” Billy’s grin flashed at the idea of seeing the old pirate again.
All warmth drained from Mrs. Lumbus’s manner. She muttered, “He said to expect someone awesome powerful … Must be some kind of a trick.”
“He’s here, isn’t he?”
“Nope. Not here.” Mrs. Lumbus crossed her sturdy arms.
“He has to be!” Billy’s jaw opened and closed as he struggled to think. How could he have failed Millicent so soon?
“I’m sorry to turn you out, young man, but you have no business being in here unaccompanied by an adult.” She herded him toward the door. “I could lose my tavern license.”
Billy clutched her arm. “But … I’m … trying to help Uncle Grim.”
Mrs. Lumbus hesitated. “Grim Bones?”
Billy nodded.
“He is one who’s awesome powerful.” Mrs. Lumbus’s eyes rekindled their kindness. “Follow me.”
“Billy me boy, it’s good to see ye!” Pete boomed when Mrs. Lumbus and the young visitor entered the back room.
Billy leaped into Pete’s translucent arms and was rewarded with a wonderful squeeze. He wouldn’t have traded it for eleven back-to-back birthday parties.
The skeletons fiddled with their pipes, watching the curious reunion as Mrs. Lumbus resumed her post, polishing mugs.
“I was expectin’ someone else in yer place. Where’s yer uncle?” Pete draped his arm around Billy’s shoulder.
Pete’s question reminded Billy there was no time to spare. He quickly explained the strange chain of events: the appearance of Shadewick Gloom, Millicent’s kidnapping, and the loss of Grim’s head. He finished with, “We’ve got to save Millicent and Uncle Grim from Shadewick Gloom!”
“Then that’s just what we’ll do, me boy.” Pete trumpeted in his most captain-ly voice. “We’re going after Shadewick Gloom!”
Jenkins pointed a pinfeather into the air and struck a heroic pose. “Awk! Get Gloom!”
“We’re going nowhere ’til you show us some gold,” Ned said.
Pete pressed closer to Billy. “Now, lad, I have to ask ye a rather delicate question. Much hangs in balance at yer answer.”
Billy reached inside his raincoat and rummaged in his ribcage. Yanking out the sack of wishes, he emptied it onto the table and then smiled at the delight in Pete’s eye as the coins jingled into a heap.
“Clever lad.” Pete dragged up a nearby chair, making room for the boy at the table. Bathed in reflections of gold, the value of the skeletons’ grins increased tenfold. Before they could sweep the coins into their pockets, Pete warned them, “The loot stays here, tucked snug in Minnie’s lockbox ’til the job is done.”
Ned studied Pete through thoughtful eyes and then turned to Roger. “He’s right. There’s not much to gain by traipsing through the Dark Side jingling like jimdandy. It’ll only draw attention.”
“What about the boy?” Ned grumbled. “Problem is he knows too much. We can’t leave him here, and we can’t take him with us. He’ll whimper like a baby at all the vicious doings and horrible creatures.”
Billy jumped up. “I didn’t come here so you’d leave me behind.”
“He’s good in a tussle and sneaky as a tick. Not that ye’d guess it by his face.” Pete swelled his luminous chest. “He tangled against the Investigative Branch’s finest and came out on top. I promise he won’t disappoint ye.”
Billy’s cheekbones burned with embarrassment as Ned and Roger studied him with new respect. Those were sizable shoes Pete was describing. Billy wasn’t sure if he could fill one of them, let alone two.
Chapter 12
Oversecretary Underhill
Cecil Benders clacked down the marble floor, limping with the weight of his mail bag. He weaved to avoid the other skeletons packing this section of Government Hall, then hobbled to a stop in front of an impressively large door.
A small brass plate read: LORD SAGACIOUS UNDERHILL, OVERSECRETARY OF THE HALL OF RECEPTION AND THE DEPARTMENT OF FIBS AND FABRICATIONS.
Once inside, Mr. Benders hurried toward a second large door. Behind it, muffled voices were raised in battle. The old courier had to leap out of the way as the door unexpectedly flew open.
Miss Chippendale stomped out. “We shall see what the High Council thinks of your stubbornness, Underhill!” she lashed out over her shoulder. “Grim Bones is not fit for duty, and I’ll prove it!”
An elderly skeleton with a high forehead and impressively large brow bones appeared at the doorway. His purple-trimmed robe swished as he dipped a small bow. “Always a pleasure, Cornelia.”
Adjusting her gloves impatiently, Miss Chippendale nearly knocked Mr. Benders off his feet. She bustled by, nose high.
“Your pardon, miss.” Mr. Benders lifted his cap. “Nasty old cow,” he hissed under his breath.
Re-shouldering his courier bag, he shuffled up to Underhill.
The Oversecretary blinked pleasantly. “Cecil.”
He ushered Mr. Benders into his office and sat him on a marble bench. Rounding the desk, he tidied up a few documents, then sat down opposite in a high-backed stone chair. “Is this an official visit? Or just one old friend brightening the day of another?”
For a moment, Mr. Benders drifted back to the days they had served together in the skeleton cavalry—those were exciting times.
But the thought of danger shook Mr. Benders back to the present. “There’s a situation at the Department of Eternal Energy, Sagacious. The generators are slowing down.”
Mr. Benders dug the message out of his bag and handed it over. Oversecretary Underhill tapped a bony finger on his chin as he read it.
“The engineers are always talking to us like we’re children,” Mr. Benders chattered. “There’s two whole paragraphs explaining the history of existical energy and eternal energy—real basic stuff. It says how millions of years ago, when the first living thing died, it released the two magical energies: one that powers the magic of Earth and the other that powers the Afterlife. There’s a bunch of blah, blah, blah technical stuff after that, but the upshot is that neither of these energies are being produced at the moment because nothing’s dying. Seems a time stoppage on Earth is the cause.”
“I should say!” The oversecretary sighed wearily—ignoring the fact that his old friend had been reading notes as well as delivering them that day. “It’s clearly an unscheduled stoppage. Something must have happened to Grim Bones.”
Mr. Benders fumbled with his bag as he placed it on the bench. It thudded on the floor, contents fluttering down just behind. Some of Grim’s correspondence was scattered into the pile. The old courier bent over and hastily collected the mess, paying particular attention to one wax-sealed envelope. “I hope it doesn’t have anything to do with this message to Glass-Eyed Pete.”
The bulge of Underhill’s frown looked like a rock ledge. “Glass-Eyed Pete is mixed up in this? This is an emergency,” he said, fingering his silver medallion. “We must alert every secrets keeper on Earth to conduct a search for Grim Bones. I sh
all require a regiment of skeleton messengers within the next few minutes.”
Oversecretary Underhill turned to Mr. Benders. “Your territory on Earth includes the Boneses, does it not?”
“It does.”
“You’re to start there.” Underhill scribbled off a quick note and handed it to Mr. Benders.
Mr. Bones was reading his copy of the Eternal Bugle while Mrs. Bones flounced a feather duster around a cobwebbed trunk. Her duster clattered to the floor as Mr. Benders slammed open the secrets-closet door.
“Good heavens, man! What’s the fuss?” Mr. Bones snapped.
Mr. Benders hobbled into the closet. “Time stopped and a field agent down is fuss enough, I should say!”
“An F.A.D.!” Mr. and Mrs. Bones repeated in two gasps. The trunk lid clunked noisily as Mrs. Bones sat down.
“Here, Lars.” Mr. Benders handed Mr. Bones a sealed note. “I’m sure you’ll have this sorted out in no time at all.” He tried to sound calm as he rocked nervously on his creaky old feet.
The Boneses were regional leaders, in charge of emergency response. Mr. Bones doffed his trusty departmental hat. He slipped on his spectacles, and then, breaking the document’s seal, he scanned the note. “It’s from Oversecretary Underhill.”
Mrs. Bones rushed to her husband’s side to read over his shoulder.
My Dear Lars and Decette:
By now I’m sure that Cecil has informed you that we have a field agent down. And I needn’t tell you that means Grim is in serious danger. Unfortunately, so is my position and the very future of the D.F.F. There’s no telling how unstable this situation will become if the council gets word of an unscheduled time stoppage. A power outage caused by Grim and even a whiff of Pete will play right into Cornelia Chippendale’s hands.
I am truly sorry that at a time I should be offering my deepest condolences I must urge you to action. But as two of my best, I know you will get this situation under control.
My deepest sympathy and unflagging support,
Sagacious Underhill
“Right, Cecil,” Mr. Bones said as calmly as he could manage. “We’ll meet the rest of the secrets keepers at the rendezvous point.” But his hand bones trembled as he tucked the note into his vest pocket.
Mr. Benders instinctively swept up the outgoing mail. Neither rain nor sleet nor an Afterlife emergency would keep this skeleton from his appointed rounds. His hand paused when he spotted Billy’s note to Pete sitting atop a nearby pile. “Don’t want that mixed up with the rest of your mail.”
“Celesdon’s Bells! I’m getting fluff-headed. I meant to get rid of that.”
Mr. Benders tucked the note into his bag. “Don’t work yourself up too much, Lars. Special deliveries are my specialty. I have to stop later at the Boneyard anyhow.” Turning gingerly, he limped out the door, leaving it open. “Best of luck, old friends. I’ll be back to help as soon as I can.” He hobbled next through a shimmering portal, and past the curtains that separate this world from the next. With the proper Afterlife permissions, even a solid old skeleton like Mr. Benders could travel like a ghost.
Mr. and Mrs. Bones gathered up a map and a list of fellow closet skeletons. In no time they were crunching across the manor’s gravel turnabout, between suspended raindrops. It would have been a stiff morning rain, had time not been stopped.
One good thing about dangerous situations—they can really focus your resources. And this one had Mr. Bones’s energy level soaring like an emergency flair. In all the centuries he’d been dead, he never felt so alive!
Part 2
In the Shadow of Gloom
If you want to flee Gloom’s shadow
it’s easy as can be.
You need only cast your eyes about
and find a nightmare key.
Chapter 13
Nevermore
Shadewick Gloom yanked Millicent through the last of the shadow hallway and stepped into Nevermore. The place was maliciously dark, made colder by a starless sky.
Gloom led her down a broad set of stone steps, his hounds skulking beside him. Stretching in front of Millicent was a cemetery, extending into a vast city of twisted tombs. As Gloom hauled her through the narrow streets, she could hear a thin wash of screams—thousands, perhaps millions of them, drifting in the darkness. Knowing that two of the voices belonged to her parents made her translucent skin crawl.
How will I find them? The place is so impossibly big.
Shadewick clacked along, talking to his hounds. “You know, boys, I think we need a decorative touch just over there.” He stopped and nibbled his thumb bone. “A five-story mausoleum would do the trick.”
The hounds panted happily.
“SHADEWICK GLOOM!” a woman’s voice bellowed, bouncing through the city’s musty stonework.
Gloom’s expression shriveled. “Cornelia Chippendale.”
Millicent recognized the name from the Eternal Bugle, the paper Billy’s parents always read. She strained to see the face of the woman who was after Gramps Pete.
A woman wrapped in a black cloak arrived in a waddling trot. “I sent you on a simple errand, Gloom, and you completely botched it.”
“Now, how can you say that, Cornelia, my dear?” Shadewick Gloom feigned shock. “Grim Bones is out of commission, and I’ve this little dumpling in my possession, too.” He swung Millicent over his shoulder, dangling her as proof.
Miss Chippendale reminded Millicent of a snake coiling for a strike. “Well, if you’ve done such a dandy job, WHERE’S THE BOY AND WHY HAS TIME STOPPED?!!”
“Now, Cornelia …”
“I’ve managed to lay the problem on Underhill’s doorstep. Still! How could you let this happen?”
Underhill! Millicent thought. She had shared enough conversations with Billy to know Underhill was an important official in the Afterlife. And a good one, too: not like this creepy woman.
“And as you can plainly see,” Chippendale continued, “the girl’s not quite dead! Until you restart time, there’s a chance she can get back to her body.”
Thundering waves wouldn’t have struck Millicent with more force. I’m not dead yet! This explained why she was still so ghostly in the Afterlife and why it felt like so much of her had been left behind. Her glow exploded like sunburst.
“Now look what you’ve done, Chippy,” Gloom growled. “You’ve gone and given her hope.” He shook Millicent like a dust rag.
Miss Chippendale stammered, “W-well … for pity’s sake, put that girl in the darkest hole you can find!” Then a cunning smile crept onto her lips. “Or you might unleash a dread on her first.”
From the way she said it, Millicent was certain she wasn’t talking about a word that described fear, but something that inspired it.
“After that, GET THE BOY and anyone else that might have witnessed your bungling!” temporary Commissioner Chippendale shouted as she waddled back toward the shadowport. Then, digging for something inside her cloak, she withdrew a strange object—horse head on one end, eyeball on the other.
She has her own shadowport key! Millicent rubbed her forehead. That means there must be a hallway leading to the Light Side… . Millicent had to do something. The list of people in need of saving, herself included, was growing by the minute!
Chapter 14
At Edgeton’s Edge
Not much had changed at the Boneyard. Roger took a long draw on his pipe. Smoke leaked from the sides of his jaws and though his nose and ear holes as he spoke. “Like I said. There is a way to get to Nevermore. The boy’s already mentioned the one who can get you there.” His eye drifted to Billy along with his pipe smoke.
Pete considered Roger through shrewd lids. “Shadewick Gloom? And how did ye come by such information?”
“The Jollys are well connected. Better than you might imagine. Real bluebloods we’d be, if we had any blood.”
Ned leaned on one elbow, and then the other, then tapped fingers and toes. It appeared to Billy that Ned might have heard how terr
ibly well connected the Jollys were a few times before.
Roger banged on. “Skeletons have always been good with shadows. Like the way we use them to place secrets-closets in houses short on storage space. But Gloom’s experiments have taken shadows to places never dreamed possible. It didn’t take much to figure out he was behind Nevermore.”
“Busy man, Gloom,” Ned said, impressed.
Roger cocked a look at his fellow skeleton. “Most people have no idea he used to work for the government.”
“I knew that,” Billy blurted. “My Uncle Grim used to work for him. Gloom called him his ‘old assistant’ when he attacked us.”
“What the lad said is a fact.” Roger addressed the others. “Gloom’s story didn’t get out. The Investigative Branch killed it in the press.”
Pete absentmindedly twirled one of his ghostly curls. “How about getting us to Nevermore?”
“The safest way to enter,” said Roger, “is through the Gate of Darkness.”
Jiminy! Billy grimaced. Don’t like the sound of that!
“That will take us directly to Diabolis, the Dark Side’s capital city. As for Nevermore, that’s where family connections come into play again,” Roger explained. “It seems, every so often, Shadewick Gloom separates some new soul from the pack for a personal welcome.”
“I can vouch for that,” Ned offered. “Seen ’em cut from the herd myself. After we’ve turned them over to the Receiving Department, of course. Haven’t lost a soul on my watch yet.” He tapped his chest bones proudly.
Roger continued, “So it’s a matter of getting up into Government Hall. Then we tag along with Ned to the Receiving Department, and finally bluff our way to Gloom’s office. After that, you’re on your own. I plan to wish myself back.”
Doesn’t sound like much of a plan. “What happens when we get there?” Billy looked at Pete with alarm.
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