The Monsters of Morley Manor

by Bruce Coville

  Putting my bleeding finger in my mouth, I looked up. The sky was as purple as wild irises.

  “Anthony” said Sarah uneasily, “we’re not in Nebraska anymore, are we?”

  “Nor are ve in Zentarazna,” said Ludmilla, who had turned back to her human form. She sounded as nervous as I felt—which made me even more nervous than I had been to begin with. “Just vere haf you brought us, Ventar?”

  “To a place where we may be safe—and where we may be able to gather some information.”

  “What about those . . . things?” I asked.

  “We are safe from them for now. They cannot follow through the Starry Door. That is the law of magic”

  “Good law,” said Albert.

  The Wentar didn’t answer. Instead, he began turning in a slow circle. He was making an odd humming noise in his throat. The noise might have been nervousness. It might have been some secret call. Maybe he was just singing.

  As I said, with an alien, who can tell?

  Halfway into his second circle, he paused, then pointed. “This way,” he said. “Quickly!”

  He began striding off across the field. The rest of us followed.

  What else could we do?

  The grassy stuff felt sproingy under my feet, and I almost bounced as I walked. It made a wonderful sound, too—a humming not unlike the sound the Wentar had been making. The air was clean and crisp, so sweet to breathe that I couldn’t help remembering the Wentar’s words about the mess we had made on Earth. I wondered what our own air was supposed to smell like.

  After about fifteen minutes, we crested a hill. I could see an enormous lake ahead of us, its blue green surface rippled by gentle waves. As we ambled down the slope toward the sandy shore, something rose up out of the water.

  I came to a dead stop.

  Sarah grabbed my arm.

  “What the heck is that?” she cried.

  9

  Waterguys

  THE CREATURE that stood dripping at the edge of the water was about four feet high. Even though it had arms and walked upright, it looked sort of like a cross between a frog and a fish. A spiny crest ran from its head to its butt. Huge, goggling eyes were set above a mouth so wide that I figured if the thing yawned the top of its head would fall off. It had gills, but no scales. Its skin, which glistened in the sunlight, looked like mottled purple leather with a light coating of slime.

  I probably should have been more scared than I was. Maybe what kept me from totally wigging out is the fact that I like frogs so much. We have a lot of them around Owl’s Roost, and I like to catch them and “hypnotize” them. (It’s a trick I learned from a library book. If you turn a frog upside down and slowly rub your fingertip from its throat down along its belly over and over again, pretty soon it will get totally calm and just lie there in your hand, unable to move. It’s really cool, but you have to be very gentle when you do it.)

  The waterguy held up a webbed hand, then made a series of croaks that sounded like a whole frog orchestra—everything from the tiny trills of spring peepers to something like the rumble of a bullfrog, only much, much deeper.

  The Wentar put his hands on the sides of his own neck for a moment, then made a series of similar sounds.

  Given the fact that I can barely pass my French tests, I found this very impressive.

  The waterguy responded with another froggy chorus.

  “What did he say?” asked Gaspar.

  “His name is Chug-rug-lalla-apsa-lalla-rugum-bupbup,” replied the Wentar, the words coming from deep in his throat. “But you can call him Chuck.”

  “That’s a relief,” muttered Albert.

  The Wentar glared at him. “Chuck welcomes us, as long as we guarantee that we come in peace.”

  “A welcome is all very nice,” said Gaspar impatiently. “The question is, will he help this band of poor lost wanderers?”

  “That is what I am trying to find out,” snapped the Wentar. “Perhaps if you stop interrupting me, I will be able to get an answer.”

  Gaspar clamped his mouth shut and demonstrated what a lizard looks like when it feels both embarrassed and angry.

  The Wentar and the waterguy talked for another minute or so, sounding like a chorus of swamp creatures on a warm spring night. Finally the Wentar turned to the rest of us and said, “Lie on your backs.”

  Gaspar looked suspicious. “For what reason?”

  The Wentar sighed. “I have to do something, and it will be easier if you are all lying down—preferably in a circle, with your heads at the center.”

  Gaspar tightened his jaws, then nodded twice—once at the Wentar, once at the rest of us, indicating we should do as he said. It took a while. Albert couldn’t get comfortable, because of his hump. And Bob whined and growled, causing Gaspar to admit that they had never managed to train him very well. For me, the worst of it was the snakes on Melisande’s head, which wouldn’t hold still. I had just settled in to my spot when one of them came slithering across my neck, causing me to scream and leap to my feet.

  “What now?” asked the Wentar angrily.

  “Snake!” I gasped, clutching at my neck. “It was crawling over me.”

  Melisande looked offended, and her snakes all hissed, “He wassssn’t going to hurt you. He wassss jusssst checking you out.”

  Gaspar’s tongue, long as a snake itself, flicked in and out of his mouth. “Lie back down,” he ordered. “Melisande, keep the boys under control.”

  She glared at him, but nodded.

  “Glad it wasn’t me,” whispered Sarah when I was on my back again.

  “I wish it had been,” I said. That was only partly true. I actually kind of like snakes. Sarah hates them, and if one had crawled over her neck, it might have taken hours for us to get her settled down again.

  The Wentar began to walk around us, muttering in a low voice. He took something from the leather pouch at his side, and sprinkled it over our heads. Then Chug-rug-lalla-apsa-lalla-rugum-bupbup splashed water on us.

  “Hold still!” ordered the Wentar when we started to sit up, and he said it so sharply that even Bob obeyed. Then he began to sing in a low voice, gesturing over us as he did. I felt a weird tingle creep across my skin.

  After about five minutes, the Wentar said, “Now you can sit up.”

  “What was that all about?” I muttered.

  Though I was speaking to myself, Chuck answered me. “We were arranging things so you could communicate with us more easily.”

  Actually, what he said was a whole series of croaks and peeps. But I understood them perfectly!

  “How did that happen?” asked Sarah.

  She sounded as astonished as I felt.

  She also sounded just like Chuck. I don’t mean she had his voice, just that the sounds she was making were in his language. I stared at her in amazement.

  “We cast a spell on you, of course,’’ said the Wentar.

  I had always figured aliens would be superscientific; I was having a hard time getting used to the idea of them as magic users.

  “Follow me,” said the waterguy, heading for the edge of the lake. “I want you to meet my mother.”

  “She doesn’t mind having strangers just drop by?” I asked nervously.

  “Does she live underwater?” asked Sarah, sounding even more nervous.

  “Don’t worry,” Chuck said. “You’ll be able to breathe. We took care of that, too.” He squatted, then sprang forward, not even looking to see if we were going to follow him. The jump carried him a good thirty feet straight out. He landed with a large splash, then disappeared beneath the surface.

  The Wentar waded in after him. Bob followed close at his heels, but I suspect that was mostly because he liked the water. Though he was still in his semihuman form, he barked exuberantly as he bounded through the rippling waves. Suddenly he plunged in over his head, as if he had just gone past a drop-off. He came up once, splashing and spluttering, then disappeared again. This time he didn’t come backup.

  �
�Must be the breathing thing works,” said Sarah.

  “Either that, or something ate him,” replied Albert.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” snapped Gaspar. Squaring his shoulders, he waded into the water after Bob, the Wentar, and Chuck “Come along, Albert,” he said, without looking back “Destiny awaits.”

  “Whatever you say, boss,” said Albert. He glanced back at me and Sarah, rolled his eyes, spread his hands in a what-can-you-do? kind of gesture, then turned and followed Gaspar into the water.

  That left Ludmilla, Melisande, Sarah, and me standing on the shore.

  “What about my hair?” muttered Melisande.

  It wasn’t the kind of girl question it sounds like, since her snakes were twisting and writhing around her head in great alarm. Even so, it did make me realize that it was just me and the girls on the beach.

  So I stepped in.

  “Anthony, wait!” cried Sarah. She came splashing after me.

  The water was cold, and had an odd, lemony smell. The smell was actually kind of pleasant, it was just weird. It was also weird to go in with my clothes on. Though the legs of my jeans were already damp from the walk to Morley Manor, now they clung tightly to my skin, feeling cold and heavy. I was glad I hadn’t put anything important in my pockets before we left home that night.

  As we moved deeper into the lake, I heard Melisande and Ludmilla wade in behind us, grumbling and hissing as they did. I figured they were even unhappier about getting their clothes wet than I was. But I didn’t look back. I was busy peering into the water around me, worrying about everything from man-eating plants to giant slime fish to living mud. Given the creature we had already met, who knew what sorts of things might live in the lakes of this planet?

  Suddenly Gaspar stuck his head above the surface. Water streamed off his long snout.

  “For heaven’s sake,” he shouted. “Hurry up!”

  That was a good sign. The fact that we had not seen any of the others who had gone under had had me worried. Turning to Sarah, I said, “Ready?”

  She nodded. Joining hands, we waded forward. Since she was shorter, her head went under first. I stood and watched.

  Okay, I know that makes me sound really rotten. But I figured if there was a problem, it would be easier for me to haul her out than vice versa.

  A second later she stuck her head up and called, “Hurry, Anthony! This is really neat!”

  Then I was annoyed because I hadn’t gone under first.

  I plunged in after her. I tried holding my breath, but I quickly realized that that couldn’t last for long. Besides, the point was to breathe the water. Cautiously—very cautiously—I let some of it trickle in through my nose.

  Utterly cool! Instead of choking and burning, the water felt good in my lungs.

  Feeling bolder, I drew in a deep breath, filling my lungs with lemony water. It was heavy in my chest, but not uncomfortable.

  I looked around. The Wentar’s spell must have done something to our eyes as well as our lungs, because I could see perfectly. Strange, fishlike creatures swam all around us. Some of them were transparent, like ghost fish; others had big goggling eyes, or fins that trailed behind them like ribbons. Ahead of us weird plants stretched toward the surface, bending back and forth like ghostly, grasping hands. A variety of brilliantly colored flowers, some as small as thimbles, some as big as dinner plates, bloomed on the bottom.

  Boy, I bet Mom and Dad would love some of those for the shop, I thought.

  Then I spotted Gaspar. He looked impatient.

  “Come on,” I said to Sarah. “We’d better hurry.”

  I half expected the words to come out in little bubbles. Duh. You have to have air to make bubbles, and we weren’t breathing air anymore. So the words just came out as sound, made odd by the fact that they were traveling through water rather than air.

  I glanced over my shoulder. The lake bed sloped up behind us. Ludmilla and Melisande were completely underwater now, too, and Melisande’s snakes were writhing wildly about her head. I hoped the snakes were all right. I thought about going back to check, but I figured Melisande would know if anything was wrong. Even as I watched, they began to settle down. Since Melisande didn’t turn and head for the surface, I figured they were relaxing, not drowning.

  I glanced up. The sun catching on the water that rippled overhead made the surface look like some kind of silvery ceiling, with a pattern that changed from moment to moment. I tapped Sarah’s shoulder and pointed for her to look. She smiled, then said happily, “This is the weirdest, coolest thing that’s ever happened to us, Anthony.”

  I didn’t know if she meant breathing underwater, or everything that had gone on since we first put Albert in the sink. Either way, she was right.

  Melisande and Ludmilla had caught up with us by that time. “Ve’d better keep moving,’’ said Ludmilla.

  We started out again. The lake bed was getting kind of mucky, and some clinging weeds made it hard to walk, so we began to swim, which turned out to be a lot easier.

  Though we could breathe, the water was still wet, of course. So our hair was floating around our heads, while our clothes were plastered to our bodies—not that Melisande’s dress hadn’t been pretty much plastered to her body already. Sarah caught me looking at her now and gave me an elbow in the ribs.

  As we swam deeper, I felt the pressure of the water begin to squeeze me. I wondered how far down we were going to go—and whether the Wentar’s spell would protect us from being squished by the water’s great weight.

  I was gazing around, fascinated by the fish and the scenery and not paying much attention to where we were heading, when suddenly Sarah cried, “Holy mackerel!”

  At first I thought she had seen a giant fish. Then I realized that the waterguy had led us over a cliff. I was terrified when I saw that dark drop beneath us, but really, it was no big deal. When you’re already in the water you’re not going to fall or anything. As my terror began to ebb I studied the strange landscape below us.

  Then I saw what Sarah had been shouting about. It wasn’t the cliff, after all. My heart began to pound again, and I wondered if we had been betrayed.

  10

  The Mother of All Frogs

  SQUATTING IN THE CENTER of that landscape, huge and astonishing, was a creature that looked somewhat like Chug-rug-lalla-apsa-lalla-rugum-bupbup, with one major difference: This one was bigger than our house!

  When I first saw it, I thought it must be some kind of statue the waterpeople had made. But seconds after we cleared the edge of the cliff, the enormous beast rolled its huge eyeballs in their sockets, looked up at us, blinked twice, then opened its mouth.

  Out shot a tongue that had to be at least a hundred feet long. Like a green ribbon of death, the tongue wrapped around the Wentar and pulled him into the creature’s mouth, so fast it was almost as if it hadn’t happened.

  Panic exploded in my chest. Was this how I was going to die—swallowed by a giant frog on an alien planet?

  I looked around frantically for Sarah. She was only a few feet from me. “Come on!” I cried. “Let’s get out of here.”

  I reached for her hand—instinct, I guess, since it was actually a pretty silly thing to do: You can’t swim very fast while you’re holding hands.

  “Wait!” ordered Chug-rug-frogbutt.

  Right. Like I was about to wait so he could feed us to his master, or whatever this thing was. But—instinct again?—I did turn my head back. As I did, I saw the Wentar crawl from between the huge creature’s lips. He climbed over the tip of its nose until he had found a broad, flat spot where he could stand. Then he motioned for us to swim down and join him.

  “Should we do it?” whispered Sarah.

  Gaspar, who was floating nearby, said, “Once again we find the universe is stranger than we could have guessed. What new things shall we discover in this watery world? Forward, my family. Forward.”

  Which pretty much decided things for the Morleys. As for me, I figured if we trie
d to swim away the monster would probably just nail us with its tongue anyway. So I nodded to Sarah. “Come on,” I said. “Lets go.”

  We swam deeper into the mysterious lake.

  “This is Queen Gunk-alla-gunk-gunk-ipsim-alla-ribit,” explained the Wentar when all seven of us had joined him on the creature’s snout.

  “She is the mother of us all,” added Chuck.

  “Speak for yourself,” said Albert.

  “She is also my official contact here,” continued the Wentar, casting a dark glance at the little hunchback. “And our best chance for solving our problem. We need to go inside to talk to her.”

  “Inside where?” I asked, looking around for a building, and wondering how big it would have to be to hold this monster.

  “Her mouth,” said the Wentar.

  “You haf got to be kidding!” cried Ludmilla.

  Melisande’s snakes twisted in alarm.

  “Humor is not one of my specialties,” said the Wentar. “Now follow me. We are being treated with extreme kindness by an incredibly powerful being. It would not be wise to make a fuss about it.”

  Stretching his arms, he swam off the frogmonster’s snout. Chuck went with him, not even looking back. The rest of us stood for a moment, baffled, astonished, and terrified. Then Gaspar threw back his shoulders. “Family Morleskievich!” he barked. “Assemble!”

  Quickly the monsters got in a line.

  “We are the Family Morleskievich,” said Gaspar solemnly. “We do not flinch from danger. We do not shy from the unknown. I say we go forward!”

  “Forward!” cried the others.

  “Forward!” I cried, unable to help myself.

  Which is how Sarah and I ended up following the Morleys over the edge of the queen’s giant snout.