The Cryptid Keeper

by Lija Fisher

  “Only one way to find out,” Jerry said.

  Without another word, Jerry took off running toward the castle.

  “Jerry!” Clivo said as loudly as he dared.

  Stephanie put her hand on his arm. “Let him go, Clivo. You can’t be the only one taking risks, remember?”

  Clivo waited anxiously as Jerry ran behind the castle, then popped his head around the corner a moment later and gave a thumbs-up.

  “Okay, guys, we’re going to quickly climb the rope to the roof and break in from there. Ready?” Clivo asked.

  “Born ready,” Adam said.

  Clivo and the Blasters ran to join Jerry behind the castle. The waning moon was rising high in the sky and lit them more than Clivo was comfortable with, but at this point they didn’t have a whole lot of options.

  Clivo and Jerry quickly scurried up the rope, followed by Stephanie and Amelia. Adam grunted so loudly as he slowly hoisted himself up the rope that Amelia had to shush him. Hernando fared a bit better with the physical exertion, but Charles was so hopeless in his climbing that Clivo and Jerry finally had to pull the rope up with Charles clinging to it for dear life.

  “Thanks, dudes. I’ve always had a weak hand grip,” Charles whispered.

  Clivo headed to the door they had used earlier, but discovered that the lock Jerry had picked had been welded shut. “Shoot. I guess we should have checked that before having all of you guys climb up here,” he whispered.

  “What’s wrong with using the front door?” Stephanie whispered back.

  “It has some sort of keypad on it, and I have no idea what the code is,” Clivo replied.

  Charles stuck his face between them. “Sounds like you need a code breaker like myself.”

  “You think you can figure out the code?” Clivo asked. He had pretty much ceased being constantly amazed by how smart the Blasters were, but cracking a coded keypad would definitely re-amaze him.

  “Maybe I already have,” Charles whispered before sneezing and furiously wiping his nose.

  “But you haven’t even seen it! How could you have figured it out?” Clivo asked, his amazement meter kicking into high gear.

  Now it was Adam’s turn to stick his head into the circle. “Are we going to spend all night interrogating his genius, or shall we just let him get to work?”

  Jerry and Clivo climbed back down the rope, followed by the others. Adam once again grunted in agony the whole way, and Jerry had to climb back up and tie the rope around Charles’s waist to lower him because Charles claimed he had lost the use of his hands after the exertion of the first climb.

  They snuck around to the front of the building and stared at the keypad. It was standard, with large green glowing numbers and LOCK and UNLOCK buttons. As he examined the device, Charles wrinkled his nose, which made him look like a rabbit sniffing a morsel.

  “Yep, the code is definitely zero-seven-one-three,” he finally said. He reached out to press the buttons, but his finger buckled with weakness when he touched the keypad. “Darn it! That rope climb sucked all the strength out of my digits. Stephanie, can you help me with your powerful hacker hands?”

  Stephanie stepped forward and pressed zero-seven-one-three on the keypad, followed by the UNLOCK button. Instantly, the sound of a bolt clicking back was heard, followed by the large steel door slightly opening.

  “My MAN!” Jerry whispered, giving Charles a pat on the back. “I may be good at pranks, but that was some magic stuff right there.”

  “Okay, can you just tell me, quickly, how you did that?” Clivo asked.

  Charles reached up with a finger and picked his nose. “Simple psychology and observation. Most people use their birthdays for codes. I happened to notice that Douglas wears a ruby ring, which is July’s birthstone, and he has a rabbit’s foot dangling from his key chain, which means he’s superstitious—and was probably born on the thirteenth. Seventh month, thirteenth day. Zero-seven-one-three.”

  “It is wizardly,” Hernando said quietly.

  “Now, come on, guys, let’s go!” Charles whispered, reaching for the door.

  Clivo grabbed his shoulder. “Hang on. How about you let the people who have feeling in their arms storm the castle?”

  Charles stepped aside and saluted. “After you, brave soldiers!”

  Clivo slowly opened the door into the dark stone foyer. A candle chandelier danced with light overhead, and a sour smell of cold sweat hit him squarely in the nose. He turned and put a finger to his lips to make sure the others stayed quiet, then listened intently. Sure enough, he heard the low moans and growls of the captured cryptids.

  Clivo was relieved. He had worried that Douglas might move the cryptids during Clivo’s time in the Philippines—or do something worse. Douglas was probably counting on being able to track Clivo’s movements with the tracking signal so he could properly prepare for an ambush.

  Well, get ready, Douglas, Clivo thought. The ambush is coming.

  Clivo crept down the staircase, with Jerry walking next to him with the bottle of soap clasped in one hand. The Blasters crowded in close behind, letting out an occasional mumble when someone stepped on another’s foot.

  Their plan was simple. Throw down some soap, get Douglas’s attention, run when he started shooting at them (which he most definitely would), then return and tie Douglas up once he slipped on the soap, which would (hopefully) have knocked the gun from his hand. As for what to do with the cryptids, Clivo hadn’t gotten that far.

  He was almost to the bottom of the stairs when he saw Douglas, his back to them, leaning over a desk.

  Clivo froze and nodded to Jerry, who unscrewed the cap on the bottle of soap and quietly dumped a bunch of it on the lowest two steps. Clivo looked at the Blasters behind them and mouthed that they should get ready to run. They all nodded in confirmation, but Clivo could see the fear in their eyes as they huddled together.

  All of a sudden, it seemed like such a dumb plan. There was no need for everyone to be there, in danger. They were about to dare someone to shoot at them. Clivo could have done that by himself, without putting everyone else at risk.

  Besides, something didn’t seem right. Why was Douglas just casually going about his business when he knew Clivo would be coming back for him? Why hadn’t he moved the cryptids? Everything seemed too … normal.

  He was about to call the whole thing off in favor of returning after he could make a better plan and face Douglas alone when Jerry suddenly shouted, “Hey! Evildoer! You want us? Come and get us!”

  Clivo gritted his teeth with frustration that he hadn’t been able to stop Jerry from shouting in time. He watched as Douglas slowly straightened up, seemingly unsurprised by the group’s sudden reappearance.

  Douglas stood with his back to them, not saying a word and not turning around.

  “Clivo, what’s he doing?” Stephanie asked.

  “I don’t know, but I want you all out of here. NOW!” Clivo responded.

  But it was too late. Douglas whirled around, a gas mask covering his face and the tatzelwurm, a snakelike cryptid with only two legs in the front and a cat’s face, held in front of him.

  Douglas squeezed the tatzelwurm with both hands as Clivo turned and began pushing his friends up the stairs. But they were too slow. A purple cloud that smelled like freshly baked bread spewed from the cryptid’s open jaws and surrounded them.

  Clivo held his breath and frantically pushed on his friends to keep them moving, but one by one they began to fall backward like dominoes as the fumes overtook them.

  Hernando fell against Clivo, causing Clivo to stumble back onto the soap-covered step. He clawed at the air as his feet flew out from under him, sending him crashing to the hard stone floor and knocking the wind out of him.

  Clivo writhed on the ground, his body begging for air but his mind doing everything it could to keep him from taking a breath of the tainted air. Finally, his diaphragm released and he involuntarily sucked in a lungful of the poisonous fumes. As Clivo’s vis
ion began to go dark, he glanced at his friends, all lying unconscious on the floor; for all he could tell, they were dead already. Then his mom’s Egyptian rattle sounded somewhere off in the distance, and Clivo’s heart burned with the sadness that, as hard as he had tried, he had been unable to protect everybody from the storm of evil.

  He reached a hand out to his friends, his vision waning. “I’m so sorry.”

  XX

  Clivo woke up as he heard shouting and the scrape of metal on stone.

  “Careful! Don’t drop it, you idiot!” Douglas yelled.

  “Don’t call me an idiot, you old cartoon!”

  “Yeah, do you want our help or not?”

  Clivo recognized the other voices from somewhere, but it was hard to place them because his head was swimming with different sensations. Part of his brain was trying to drag him back into unconsciousness, while the other part was dragging him out of it.

  “Help?” Douglas laughed. “Let’s be very clear. I called you in to do you a favor. You’re the only other ones in the stupid evil resistance who know I’m selling these monsters for organic warfare, and I’m willing to cut you in on the deal. And you’re the dumbest of the bunch, so don’t think I can’t find someone else who’d be happy to be here without giving me any lip!”

  “You Americans are so rude!” a female’s voice said.

  Clivo slowly opened his eyes, but the world swam before him, so he immediately shut them. After a deep breath he opened them again and moved his head ever so slightly so he could see the rest of his gang. They were all still on the floor, with nobody moving or uttering any sounds.

  Why was he the only one coming to? He became keenly aware of his hand burning uncomfortably and realized that that was where the demon chicken Elwetritsch had pecked him with its poisonous beak. Maybe the poison was still in his system and was somehow acting as an antidote to the tatzelwurm’s smog of death? It sure felt like many different things were at war inside his head.

  Moving as little as possible, Clivo turned his head to see who was talking, and his mind clicked into sharp focus. Pushing a cage that contained the Beast of Bray Road, apparently unaffected by the tatzelwurm’s poison, were none other than Lana and Thomas. The previous summer, Clivo had been duped by these Luxembourgers into helping them find the immortal so they could use it for their own evil purposes. Fortunately, the Luxembourgers really were pretty dumb, and the vicious Otterman they were sure was the immortal had turned out to be a harmless creature that loved chocolate.

  Clivo had defeated Lana and Thomas in the Alaskan wilderness, and Douglas had said they would be banned from the United States for a while—apparently, yet another lie Douglas had told.

  “All right, you incompetents, let’s load the cage onto the elevator and take it to the copter,” Douglas said, motioning with his hand.

  “What about Clivo and his nerds?” Thomas asked.

  Clivo shut his eyes as the three of them glanced his way.

  “I’ll take care of them,” Douglas spat.

  Clivo tried to tense his muscles, preparing to jump up to defend his friends, but he couldn’t even feel his limbs, much less get them to respond to him.

  “Hang on now, chief, we only agreed to work with you if there was no bloodshed! We want riches and world domination, but we’re not murderers!” Thomas wailed in his obnoxious voice.

  Douglas looked at him with exasperation. “The last time I saw you, I believe you were shooting at Clivo, now weren’t you?”

  Lana stepped forward. “Only because he wasn’t being cooperative. But killing someone who’s just lying there seems so gauche.”

  “You two are already becoming a pain in my rear, you know that?” Douglas groaned. “Fine, they’ll be out for days anyway. By that time we’ll be safely ensconced in our new fortress that not even he and his dork army could find. It’s a shame. He was worth a lot to me, and his dad, too. It just goes to show you, being good never did anyone any good in this world. Now, come on, I’m getting peckish.”

  The three of them pushed the cage into an elevator and closed the door.

  Clivo had to move fast, which was impossible due to the lack of control he had over his body. At least he knew his friends were just unconscious and would be okay, though not for a while. Finally, Clivo was alone in doing what he needed to do—but it was right when he most needed the help. Still, he was not going to fail.

  How he was going to do that lying down, he had no idea.

  He took another deep breath and focused his fuzzy mind to move his toes; thankfully, they wiggled a bit. After a few minutes of feeling like he was pulling himself out of wet concrete, he was able to rise to his hands and knees. The spot where the Elwetritsch had bitten him was red and swollen, with black lines tracing across his hand like a spiderweb. He had never been so glad to have been bitten by a demon chicken, that was for sure.

  Clivo was so busy dealing with his wet towel of a body that at first he didn’t notice how silent the dungeon had become. It had been full of chirps, roars, and guttural moans as the Luxembourgers loaded the Beast of Bray Road into the elevator, but now all was quiet.

  He lifted his head, panting with the exertion, and saw something wondrous. All of the cryptids were pressed against the bars of their cages, watching Clivo with looks of concern. They all had chains and bandages on them to prevent them from using their special powers, and that stirred Clivo’s anger even more.

  “Hi, guys,” Clivo said, his voice weak. “You remember me, right? And you know I’m on your side? I’ll get you out of here, I promise. I’m just not really sure how to do that yet.”

  Clivo looked each cryptid in the eye and spoke to it the way he had seen the Wasi speak to the Salawa. He used all the languages he knew, soothing them with his voice. He lifted his arm, which felt as heavy as a dumbbell, and motioned in swooping loops, as if casting a spell. He tried to extend the parts of him that were good and true and feed them into the eyes of the creatures so they would understand that he was on their side.

  The exertion was finally too much for him and he dropped his arm, sweat pouring off his face.

  Just as he was about to give up any hope, an amazing thing happened. One by one, the cryptids began to kneel, their majestic bodies bending toward Clivo, their eyes telling him that they understood. They were on the same team.

  Clivo smiled in amazement. “Wow. Okay, guys, let’s do this.”

  * * *

  A few minutes later, Clivo came stumbling out of the elevator and onto the roof and was instantly hit by dirt and gravel that were kicked up by the rotating blades of a helicopter. He shielded his eyes with one arm and held on to the doorway to steady himself.

  Lana and Thomas were fumbling with a cable that would connect the cage to the helicopter while Douglas pointed and yelled about their incompetence.

  Clivo brought his fingers to his lips and let out a loud whistle, causing the three of them to whirl around in shock.

  Thomas’s face broke into a wide grin and he held his arms out wide. “Hey, chief! Nice to see you again! How’ve things been?”

  Lana, wearing her usual bloodred lipstick, rolled her eyes. “Now’s not the time, Thomas.”

  Clivo steeled his jaw and spoke as loudly as he could over the whirring of the helicopter blades. “Release the cryptid. Now.”

  “Or else what?” Douglas spat. “Whatcha gonna do, kid? Swat at us? Look at you, you can barely stand up.”

  Clivo gripped the doorway to steady himself. He would not kneel in front of these people, even though his legs felt like wet noodles. “I’m a fair person, so I’ll give you one more chance. Release the cryptid, or I can’t be responsible for what will happen next.”

  “Ha!” Douglas let out a cackle and then immediately went into a coughing fit. “I gotta hand it to you, kid,” he said after a moment, “you certainly have some courage. It makes you stupid, but you got it nonetheless.”

  Lana stepped forward. “Clivo, just go back inside and let us d
o what we came here to do.”

  “Yeah, chief. We’ve really put up a case against killing you, but if you become uncooperative again, we’re kinda gonna have to.” Thomas gave a “what can you do” shrug of his shoulders.

  Clivo stood up as straight as he could, shaking with the exertion. “Let the record show that I gave you fair warning.”

  “For what, kid? You got an army hiding behind you?” Douglas asked, casually lighting up a cigar.

  “Actually,” Clivo said with a grin, “I do.”

  He motioned behind him and spoke a few quiet words. Stalking out from the darkness of the elevator came the chupacabra, the Ugly Merman, and the blue tiger. They stood next to Clivo, their throats emitting low growls of contempt.

  After the cryptids had shown they understood that Clivo was on their side, Clivo had quickly unwrapped the chupacabra’s claws, and the creature had instantly sliced through its cage and freed itself. At first Clivo had backed away, wondering if he was about to be attacked. Instead the cryptid stood by him, watching for a signal of what to do next.

  At first Clivo had wanted to release all the cryptids, but he was worried about gathering them all back up again. So he pointed to the cages of the blue tiger and the Ugly Merman, the other cryptids whose special powers Clivo knew might be helpful in defeating Douglas. He wasn’t sure what most of the other cryptids could do and figured it was best to leave them out of it, in case one of them happened to spontaneously burst into rainbows or something else rather harmless.

  The cigar fell out of Douglas’s open mouth and sparks and ashes flew up as it hit the ground.

  Thomas’s eyes bugged out of his head. “You can control the cryptids? That’s so cool, mate!”

  “Now’s not the time, Thomas!” Lana growled.

  The Beast of Bray Road let out a roar, followed by the other cryptids.

  “Like I said,” Clivo said, “release the cryptid.”

  Douglas sighed. “Kid, you have officially become a massive pain in my backside.”