Candy Shop War

by Brandon Mull

  “Well done, let’s get out of here,” Wyatt said.

  Pigeon stared at Nate, watching for a sign, straining to guess what Nate expected from him.

  “I’m not feeling so well,” Nate said, massaging his temples.

  “Pull Eric out here,” Wyatt commanded.

  Nodding, Nate crouched, grabbed Eric’s shriveled legs, and dragged him out of the treasure room. Then Nate sat down and buried his face in his hands.

  “Get up!” Wyatt barked.

  Nate turned translucent, became blurry, and vanished. The thorny stem fell to the ground. Diego barked.

  “What happened?” Denny asked.

  “Must have been a curse,” Pigeon said.

  Denny looked uncertainly at the jeweled goblet.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Wyatt said, crouching to pick up Eric. “We need to get back.”

  Pigeon glanced at the goblet. It was so close! Nate had warned that spilling it would do no good. Maybe Nate had thought of a trick to pull now that his selves had reunited. Or maybe he had no plan, and was simply being heroic.

  The Fuse raised his hands palms outward and chanted briefly. The three black widows shrank down to their original tiny statures. Wyatt stomped on them.

  “Don’t get any ideas, Pigeon boy,” Wyatt said. “This is over. Don’t make me do unnecessary violence to you or your mutt. Come on.”

  Pigeon followed him away from the treasure room.

  *****

  Nate number two stood at a window inside the antique store across from the Sweet Tooth Ice Cream and Candy Shoppe. He kept waiting to see Mauricio or Wyatt leave along with Denny, Eric, and Kyle, but a lot of time had passed, and he began to fret that he had missed their departure.

  A Closed sign hung in the candy shop window. Nate had watched a steady stream of people approach the shop, jiggle the door, peer through the glass, and turn away in disappointment.

  Before taking up his position inside the antique store, Nate had confirmed that the back door of the antique store was locked. He had circled the candy shop, furtively searching for an unlocked window and finding none. He knew that spells protected the candy shop from unauthorized intruders, so he had saved a direct assault as a last resort.

  A husky bald man with a goatee shook the candy shop door. The man checked his watch and banged on the glass. Shaking his head disgustedly, the man stalked away.

  Nate had been spying on the candy shop for almost thirty minutes. His hour had to be waning. If he was going to risk a direct assault on the shop, he knew it was now or never.

  Since he had no money on him, Nate picked up a heavy bronze candlestick without paying and walked out. He jaywalked across Main and flung the candlestick through one of the large plate-glass windows. Huge sheets of glass fell, dissolving into shards and splinters as they hit the ground.

  An enormous sound followed, like the blast of a ship’s horn, accompanied by a searing flash of light and heat. Nate fell over backwards, landing in the street and scraping his right elbow. Picking himself up, he approached the window. He used the sole of his shoe to try to push away some of the remaining glass. When his foot touched the glass, a tremendous shock sent him spinning to the ground. Nate lay on the sidewalk in a stupor, fingers twitching. He had underestimated the defenses of the shop.

  After a few deep breaths, Nate sat up. Despite the violent jolt, no lasting harm appeared to have occurred. As he began to rise, Nate started to grow and age. His shoes squeezed his feet, and Nate tore them off with liver-spotted hands. Rising painfully, he hobbled away from the broken window.

  Why was he old? This was not part of the plan! Had everything fallen apart?

  He leaned against a light pole to catch his breath. Cars roared by on Main, indifferent to his internal anguish. Time was running out, and he could think of nothing useful to do.

  *****

  Out of breath and sweaty, his ribs screaming in pain, Trevor found the door to the school cafeteria unlocked. It was almost strange to feel his heart beating again. In the mirror realm, he had been able to run all he wanted without getting tired. In all his time there, Trevor had not felt his heart beat once, even when he had jogged a long distance with his fingers pressed to his neck as an experiment.

  He dashed inside the cafeteria to the custodial office and found that door unlocked as well. Inside he discovered a square hole in the floor and a rope ladder. Hurriedly Trevor pulled up the rope ladder and tipped over a filing cabinet to cover the hole.

  Trevor exited the cafeteria and checked the parking lot. He arrived just in time to witness the black Hummer driving away. He slumped down and a black Labrador approached him, nudging him with a wet, black nose.

  “Diego?” Trevor asked, recognizing the purple collar. “What are you doing here?”

  The dog had no response.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The Goblet

  Nate materialized on a side street not far from Main. Fortunately there were no cars speeding down the road the moment he appeared. His shoes sat nearby. Groaning, Nate picked up his shoes and shuffled over to the edge of the street.

  He had three sets of memories colliding in his mind. Memories of giant black widow spiders spinning webs around him and of aging as he entered the treasure room. Memories of breaking one of the candy shop windows. Memories of waiting behind the mirror, staring out at his empty bathroom, hoping he would not be trapped in the frigid blackness forever.

  It took a few moments to reconcile the different recollections. The incident with the candlestick and the candy store window explained how his eyebrows had gotten singed and where the scrape on his elbow had come from. Two of his selves had not felt the shock when he had kicked the glass—apparently only the actual changes to his body were universally experienced, not sensations. He remembered his panic in the mirror realm as his body began to age.

  After sorting through the various memories, Nate began to feel whole again. He still had some candy, though he doubted it would work now that he was old. He tried to get a Moon Rock out of his pocket to experiment, but his pants were so tight, and his fingers so arthritic, that he failed.

  All Nate knew was that he wanted to get to the candy shop to see how everything ended. He shambled along the side street until he reached Main, then turned in the direction of the candy shop. He waited at a crosswalk until the traffic ebbed. Many cars lined up waiting as he slowly traversed the intersection. He was hurrying as best he could, but his old legs grew tired so quickly!

  After having paused several times to rest on a bench or squat on some stairs, Nate arrived at the candy shop. The window remained broken. The closed sign was still on display.

  Through the broken window Nate could hear voices in the back. “Hey!” Nate called. “Hey! It’s Nate! Let me in!”

  A moment later Mrs. White pushed through the batwing doors, wearing a black eye patch. “Nate, how good of you to join us!” she said. She unlocked the front doors and opened them, admitting him. “I didn’t expect to see you again. You arrived just in time for the grand finale! I understand I have you to thank for claiming my prize.”

  “You could say that,” Nate agreed in a meek voice.

  Mrs. White closed the door, locked it, and offered Nate her arm. He let her escort him into the back. Summer, John, and Gary were tied up sitting on the floor. Pigeon was there too, webs still binding his arms to his sides. They gazed at Nate in despair. Old Kyle was seated on a chair beside Denny. Wyatt stood beside a worktable where the ornate goblet rested, clipping his fingernails.

  “Look who came for a visit,” Mrs. White said elatedly. “Our old friend Nate! I’ve always been taught to show respect for my elders, so Denny, please pull him up a chair front and center.”

  Denny retrieved a chair and Nate sat down directly in front of the goblet.

  “Friends,” Mrs. White said. “In this humble room, in this obscure town, you are about to witness the dawn of a new era. All of you will be invited to serve me. Those who refuse will fac
e nightmarish consequences. The rest of us are about to embark on a journey that surpasses anything you could possibly imagine. Decades of hiding and studying and preparing have finally reached their culmination!”

  Mrs. White seized the goblet and raised it high. “To a new beginning,” she cried exultantly, and began gulping down the water. She continued drinking until she held out an empty goblet for all to see.

  The change began almost immediately. Her stature diminished. Wrinkles smoothed away. Faint freckles came into being. Her clothes hung baggy on her smaller frame. Within a moment, Mrs. White looked ten years old.

  Nate leaned forward, eyes narrowed, hands clenched into fists. Denny coughed, muffling the sound as best he could. Everyone in the room watched the young girl in expectant silence.

  Her jubilant expression faded. The eye patch fell down around her neck, revealing a vacant socket. The young girl looked around at everyone, no recognition in her eye. She seemed flustered and disoriented. “Who are you?” she finally asked in a small, hesitant voice. “Where am I?”

  Using the worktable for leverage, Nate stood up. “You are a lucky little girl,” he said, his age adding a certain dignity to his voice. “Not everyone gets an opportunity to start over with a Clean Slate!”

  There was a moment of utter silence. Then John Dart threw his head back and laughed.

  Wyatt approached the young girl. “Belinda?”

  “Is that my name?” the girl asked. She reached up a hand, touched her vacant eye socket, and jerked it away. “What happened to me? Who are you people?”

  Wyatt glared fiercely at Nate. “You put a Clean Slate into the goblet?”

  “I still had the one Mrs. White intended for us to use on Mr. Stott,” Nate said. “Before the spider wrapped me up, I tucked it into the waistband of my underpants. It was my last resort. You didn’t even search me for candy.”

  Wyatt shook his head. He rubbed a hand against the worktable. A rueful grin crept onto his face. “This probably ranks as the best sucker punch I’ve ever seen,” he murmured to himself.

  Wyatt cracked his knuckles. He fixed Nate with a steady gaze. “I’m not glad you did it,” he growled. “But it’s done. There’s no going back. I’ve seen the Clean Slate in action before. This is over. Her mind is irretrievable.”

  “What are you talking about?” the little girl asked.

  Wyatt crouched. “You lost your memory,” he explained. “You have no family. Maybe some of these people can help you find a foster home.”

  John Dart stood up, hands bound behind his back. He walked toward the Fuse. “What’s your move, Wyatt?”

  “Not a step closer, John,” the Fuse said. “Far as I’m concerned, this whole endeavor is a bust. If I didn’t think you’d hunt me down, I might take my leave quietly.”

  “From the look of things, you’re running out of unmarked skin,” John said. “My guess is Belinda promised to restore you with her augmented powers.”

  “I’ve got enough juice left to take all of you with me,” Wyatt spat.

  “Maybe,” John said. “But why perish? Let me take you in.”

  “Not a chance,” Wyatt said, backing away. “Never underestimate a Fuse. You’d do well to give me your word you won’t pursue me, and let me depart in peace.”

  John looked around the room, making eye contact with Nate and the kids. “You realize I can’t speak for my employers,” John said.

  “I’m more worried about you than them,” the Fuse said. “I’ve made it personal with you. I’m going to trust that your employers have bigger fish to fry than a Fuse who bet on the wrong horse and has almost burned out.”

  John looked wretched. “All right, for the sake of the kids, I pledge I won’t chase you if you leave immediately.”

  The Fuse smirked, dipping his head. “That’s all I needed to hear. Look after little Linda, would you?”

  Wyatt ambled out the back door. Nate heard him thumping up the stairs.

  John turned to face Nate, a warm smile spreading across his lips. “Nate, I can’t believe it, you’re one in a million.”

  Nate grinned as Pigeon, Summer, and Gary shouted words of approval. It was sort of pathetic to watch people tied up on the floor trying to cheer. But he appreciated the sentiment.

  “What about me?” Kyle said, standing feebly. “What about Eric?”

  “She wasn’t going to change you back,” Nate said. “I used magic to visit the future. She was going to enslave all of us, including you, Denny. Where is Eric, anyway?”

  “Upstairs with the dwarf,” Denny said. “They’re both in bed. They’re too injured to be on their feet.”

  “We’ll have to go pick up Mr. Stott,” Nate said. “He’s stranded as a coyote in his ice cream truck. Without his help, we wouldn’t have stopped her.”

  “What about Trevor?” Summer asked.

  “I got him out of the mirror,” Nate said. “I’ll tell you all about it later. Right now I feel really tired.”

  Denny pounded a fist into his palm. “Dirt Face, I’ve got to say, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

  “Nate,” John said, “I’ve never been so thoroughly defeated. We were all helpless. I have to agree with Denny, I didn’t see a way out of this. You have my eternal respect and admiration.”

  “Thanks,” Nate said, sitting down. “I’d do it all again if I had to, but ideally, I’d rather not spend the rest of my life as an old man.”

  “Don’t worry,” John said with a wink. “I know a guy.”

  µ

  Epilogue

  New Jobs for John

  “You guys need any more bean dip?” the coyote inquired.

  “I’m stuffed,” Trevor said, rubbing the side of the brace encasing his ribs.

  “You sure?” the coyote version of Mr. Stott persisted. “I have several more cans in the pantry.” They were all seated in Mr. Stott’s living room. Half-empty bags of chips littered the coffee table, along with a platter of bagels, several tubs of cream cheese, a bowl with remnants of onion dip, an empty bean-dip container, and a dozen paper cups.

  “How about you, Gramps?” Summer asked Nate. “Still hungry?”

  Leaning forward on the couch, Nate poked Summer in the thigh with his cane. “I warned you,” he growled. “If you get to call me Gramps, I get to jab you.” Elderly Kyle, sitting beside him, chuckled and coughed.

  “We won’t get to call you Gramps much longer,” Pigeon said. “What time is John getting here, anyhow?”

  Kyle checked his watch. “Any minute.”

  “How about Old Timer?” Trevor tried.

  Nate tried to prod him, but Trevor was out of reach.

  “Or Old Man Sutter,” Summer said, moving away from Nate. “Or Geezer. Or Fossil. Or Dinosaur.”

  “Nathanosaurus,” Pigeon proposed.

  “Laugh it up,” Nate grumbled.

  “Up until a few days ago, I would have been hesitant to let John Dart set a foot in this house,” the coyote interjected. “He has a sinister reputation in our circles. But if he hadn’t arranged to have my truck towed here, I’d probably be roaming the hills chasing rabbits by now. He seems to be genuinely trying to set everything right.”

  “Is John bringing Linda?” Pigeon asked.

  “I believe so,” the coyote said.

  “You wouldn’t want her to leave without saying good-bye,” Nate teased.

  Pigeon blushed and looked away.

  “Pigeon, don’t you think having a thing for her is a little twisted?” Trevor said. “After all, she tried to kill us.”

  “Not kill us,” Pigeon corrected. “She was mainly just trying to turn us into mindless slaves. And it wasn’t her, not really. Belinda is gone. Linda is a new person.”

  “I think he’s into the eye patch,” Summer said.

  “It matches his leather jacket,” Nate observed.

  “The patch is sort of cute,” Pigeon mumbled.

  “I want to be best man at the wedding,” Trevor joked.

 
“You’ll have to ask John’s permission,” Summer said. “He already treats her like a daughter.”

  There came a heavy knock at the door.

  “Speak of the devil and he appears,” the coyote exclaimed.

  Pigeon crossed the room to answer the door, but it opened before he arrived. Linda entered, wearing a black eye patch, followed by John, who held a plate stacked with miniature quiches.