Good Curses Evil

by Stephanie S. Sanders

  “Time is short. You have but one week to complete your Plot. Don’t forget what I’ve told you, Chad. I’ll see you out.”

  I heard the desk creak again as the Dread Master stood. His boots landed with heavy thuds as he walked across the room. Then the door opened. Then the door closed. Then the door locked. And I was still alive.

  I wasted no time. In the span of a few heartbeats I was out from under the desk, across the room, and unlocking the door. Opening it just a tiny crack, I peeked into the hall. I saw no one but faintly heard the Dread Master’s steps echoing from farther down the hallway. Then the sound faded and died out.

  No time to lose. I locked the door behind me and fled in the opposite direction of the ominous boot steps. I made a hasty pit stop at my dormitory. Of course, it was empty. Chad would still be with the Morgana kids, Plotting against me.

  I made sure Eye of Newt had enough fire ants to last him while I was gone. He smoldered happily, crinkling his eye with pleasure. Before my stint beneath the Dread Master’s desk, I might have just written a note to Chad to look after Newt if I didn’t return. But not anymore.

  I located my black dragonskin pack, dumped out my schoolbooks, and placed the crystal ball inside. I threw in a few changes of clothes, an extra cloak, and a variety of other things that might come in handy on a Plot, like a lantern, a blanket, a shoehorn, which, if you don’t know, is a curved piece of horn (or wood or metal) used to slide a fat foot into a tiny shoe. Villains should always be prepared—a lesson from the biography of Cinderella’s evil stepsisters titled Big Feet (not to be confused with Bigfoot’s self-titled autobiography).

  I’m sure you’ve heard the watered-down version of the tale … stepsisters have big feet, glass slipper doesn’t fit, Cinderella gets the guy, end of story. In the real version, the wicked stepsisters cut off their own toes to make the shoe fit. Moral of the story: always bring a shoehorn.

  Once I had packed, I turned to leave and came face-to-face with Tabs. I had to bite my tongue to hold in a scream. The black cat-a-bat hovered in the air directly in front of me with a note in her mouth. I took it, then fished around in my pocket for a sardine (having long since rid myself of the decaying sheep liver). I tossed the fish to Tabs, who watched it arc gracefully in the air and then land on the ground with a splat. Cat-a-bats were such snots. I picked it up, dusted it off, and handed it to her. She sniffed at the sardine, licked her paw, sniffed at it again, and finally took it with her tiny, pointed teeth.

  “Take your time,” I said sarcastically. Then I ripped open the letter.

  Rune Drexler,

  Do not allow Chad to complete his Plot.

  Master Dreadthorn

  What! I reread the note. Was he serious? I’d just heard the man telling Chad the same thing about me. What was he playing at? Was it some kind of test?

  I didn’t have time to contemplate. Instead, I shoved the letter into my cloak pocket and made my way to the school entrance. This required climbing a set of stone steps hewn from the rock of the cave floor and pulling a torch sconce that activated the Secret Mechanism.

  The Secret Mechanism is the stuff of school legend.

  Once the torch sconce is pulled, it lowers a weighted rope hidden behind the cave wall. This rope then pulls another rope attached to a metal foot, which kicks a chicken, which lays an egg that lands in a basket that carries it to a chute, where it slides onto the button that activates a pulley attached to a set of clockworks that roll aside a ginormous boulder that hides the school’s entrance. Whew.

  The entrance from the outside was also hidden. To open the boulder from the outside, one had to locate a fake rock on the ground (among the gazillion other rocks) and pull it to activate the mechanism, and the whole ridiculous thing started all over again. Once a vampire kid had gone outside, but couldn’t locate the rock that opened the door. He was one of the rare, full-blooded villains. The next night, all they found of him was a charred black spot.

  The entrance had been installed eons ago, back when they still taught villains that elaborate, highly involved schemes were the most likely way to ensure villainous success. However, a lot had changed in the last couple hundred years. After these complicated Plots had time and again proven disastrous, the school changed its policy on convoluted schemes. (Picture a captured hero in a villain’s lair, tied up and dangling over a shark-infested lake/boiling magma/burning oil … you get the idea, while the villain goes on and on about his highly involved evil plan … giving the hero plenty of time to escape. Duh!) Since those days, our school adopted the KISS policy when it came to schemes. No, I’m not talking about saliva exchange. It stands for Keep It Simple, Stupid.

  I emerged from behind the boulder to find Jez and Wolf already waiting. The sky was turning pinkish orange in the east. Jezebel’s violet eyes flickered nervously toward the horizon, despite the fact she had clothed herself head to toe in a cloak with an oversized hood. She even wore gloves.

  “It’s about time,” Wolf Junior said as I emerged.

  “I ran into some trouble,” I answered.

  “What kind of trouble?” Jez asked, pulling her hood farther over her head.

  “I’ll tell you on the way. Did you get the map and the food?”

  Wolf Junior and Jezebel both held up packs similar to mine. I nodded, and turned north, with Wolf and Jez following in line behind me. Once we were safely on the road and away from the school, I told them everything I’d heard in the Dread Master’s study, then I showed them the note that Tabs had brought me.

  “I can’t believe Chad’s your brother!” Jez said.

  “I can’t believe he’s Plotting against you!” Wolf added.

  “And maybe Master Dreadthorn is too,” Jez said.

  This made all of us thoughtful, not to mention a little nervous, but nobody suggested that we turn back. It was too late. Once we’d decided to Plot, we had to follow through. Giving up meant failing, and failing meant exile.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Into the Woods

  I changed my mind. I don’t want to Plot,” Wolf said.

  “Don’t be a puppy,” I said to Wolf, who had begun to whimper.

  A few hours after setting off, we’d found an empty cave where we managed to catch some z’s. We awoke midafternoon and continued on our way. Now, just as the sun was setting, we arrived at the threshold of a sinister place where few ventured. Magic lurked in its dark shadows, and strange, evil creatures prowled its leafy floor.

  “The Forgotten Forest,” Jez said in awe.

  The road we were on was deserted. This was for two reasons. One, it basically ended at our school’s front doorstep. Even though Master Dreadthorn kept the school mostly secret from the public, rumors were sometimes allowed to leak out. These usually involved tales of strange creatures on the road—things like vampires, wolves, and warlocks. Some people are so paranoid.

  The other reason no one traveled this road loomed before us. As a general rule, villains enjoy dark, evil places like the forest. However, when you’re not the one making the darkness and/or evil, it can be a little unsettling.

  Just as we stepped beneath the black shadow of the trees, a piercing scream tore through the darkness. It was quickly cut off. We all eyed one another nervously.

  “What do you think that was?” Wolf asked.

  “Probably just an animal hunting,” I said, trying to keep my cool.

  The Forgotten Forest was home to a wide variety of creatures from the enormous giants to the tiny sprites—little beings like elves or leprechauns. One never knows if they are going to be helpful or jerks. It all depends on their mood swings—kind of like Jezebel.

  However, as the echo of the scream faded in the distance, I wasn’t worrying about what had caused it, but who. Some crafty and not-too-friendly villains had taken refuge in the Forgotten Forest. One in particular had a keen interest in stealing kids. She was called Muma Padurii, which basically means “Mother of the Forest.” She was a witch with a nasty temper. That�
��s not really what worried me, though. The worst thing about Muma Padurii? She was Chad’s mom.

  Maybe you’re wondering why she’d bother kidnapping kids. I mean, she already had one of her own, right? Sure, he was a cookie-baking, backstabbing pansy, but hey, he was still her son. And she must have on some level cared for Chad, because she sent him off to Master Dreadthorn’s for an education.

  Other children, however, were Muma Padurii’s bread and butter. Literally. She liked to eat kids. Plus, she was still bitter about Hansel tricking her and kicking her old, wrinkly butt into the oven. She never forgot that. So, if she hated kids before, she doubly hated them now. And we were in her territory.

  It was just after sunset, and the Forgotten Forest pressed in so closely around us, it was suffocating. A growing sense of dread descended on everyone. I kept whipping my head from side to side at every little sound. Once, I was sure I saw eyes floating in the woods just behind us, but they disappeared before I could investigate.

  Wolf whimpered even louder than before. Jez was so nervous, she kept spontaneously transforming into a bat. Luckily, she’d found a spell to make her clothes transform with her, otherwise we would’ve been stopping every half hour to wait for her to get dressed again.

  Suddenly, without warning, something shot out of the forest directly in front of us.

  “Yelp!” Wolf barked in alarm.

  At the same moment, Jez popped into a bat and tried to fly into my cloak.

  “Okay! That’s enough!” I yelled, turning to confront the creature that had managed to frighten three villains-in-training.

  It was a rabbit. A small one.

  Jez caught sight of Fluffy the Bunny and turned back into a girl. Luckily, she wasn’t still in my cloak, or it might have been awkward.

  “Sorry,” she said.

  It was obvious we were all getting just a little bit tense.

  “I think we need a break,” I said. “Let’s stop for a bite. Jez, what did you bring?”

  Jezebel rummaged through her pack and pulled out a raw steak. She tossed it into the air, where Wolf deftly caught it between his jaws.

  “Good boy!” she said. Wolf growled.

  Then she pulled out a chocolate bar.

  “Excellent!” I said, reaching for it. She slapped my hand away.

  “That’s mine. This is for you.” Jezebel handed me a brown paper package. Inside were some strips of dried beef, a wedge of cheese preserved in wax, and half a loaf of bread.

  “Not bad,” I said, surprised at how well she knew me.

  “Not bad? That’s all you can say after I snuck past Cook and pilfered half the icebox for you?” she asked, turning her nose up.

  “Well, he did say ‘excellent’ until you slapped his hand and stole his chocolate,” Wolf added helpfully.

  “It was never his chocolate to begin with. Now that it’s just us three, I can eat all the chocolate I want.” With this, the countess sank her teeth into the candy and chewed with obvious delight.

  We’d just finished our meal and were dusting the crumbs from our cloaks when—

  “Rune!”

  The voice made us all jump. I turned to see Chad materialize out of the woods with the Morgana kids.

  He sounded surprised to see me, but I had the strangest feeling he’d been trying to run into us.

  “Chad!” I said, also trying to sound surprised.

  I couldn’t let him know what I’d learned. At the moment, I had the advantage of secret knowledge. A villain always keeps his secrets secret. We learned that in Master Stiltskin’s grandfather’s autobiography, If Only I’d Kept My Big Mouth Shut.

  You see, Rumpelstiltskin had nearly sealed the deal on taking a baby away from its mom—a favorite villain pastime. The one stipulation was if the mother could guess his name, Rumpel would let her keep the baby. This plan seemed foolproof until he blabbed his name out loud right in front of the mom’s friend, who, being a gossipy busybody, told the mother. No baby for Rumpel … all because he couldn’t just shut up.

  “You must be Plotting,” Chad said. “I didn’t know you were allowed to bring anyone.” He looked at Wolf and Jezebel.

  “Uh, me either,” I lied. “I just found out last night after you’d begun Plotting. Congratulations, by the way.”

  “Thanks,” he said. Then he gestured to the Morgana kids. “Oh, you remember Erzsebet Bathory?” He indicated the vampire girl who’d been a jerk to us at Morgana’s. Jez and I nodded while Wolf growled low and quiet. “And this is Gilles DeRay. Gilles, this is Rune Drexler, Countess Jezebel Dracula, and Wolf Junior.” Chad pointed to each of us. The Morgana kids just sneered.

  “Well, I’d invite you to lunch, but we’ve just finished and have a lot to do, so I guess we’ll see you later?” I asked.

  “Yes. Maybe we’ll run into each other again,” Chad said.

  I bet we will. “Oh, sure. Can’t wait.” With a round of good-byes, Chad and his Conspirators melted into the darkness of the Forgotten Forest.

  “Did you see that Erzsebet snob? I hope a giant squashes her ugly face into toe jam,” Wolf Junior said.

  “Let’s get out of here. The sooner we’re done with this Plot, the happier I’ll be,” Jez said.

  “Not just yet, Jez. I have a feeling I know where Chad’s going, and I’d like a little more information.”

  The time had come to try to use my dad’s crystal ball.

  The trouble with the crystal ball is it only shows what it wants. Sometimes that’s okay. Sometimes not so much. For instance, a person can ask it, Will I be rich and famous? And it might show a picture of that person surrounded by beautiful mansions only for him to find out that he’s just destined to become a real estate agent who sells mansions to famous people. Other times, it won’t show anything at all.

  I pulled it out of my pack and rubbed my hands over the smooth surface, willing it to show me Chad’s destination.

  Inside, the ball began to pulse with red light. A picture formed. I could see something long and wet and pink and—

  “Wolf!”

  A drop of slobber slipped from Wolf Junior’s tongue and landed on the crystal ball, which instantly went dark. I turned to see Wolf looming over my shoulder, staring at the (now dark) crystal. I tried to get it to work again, but of course it wouldn’t.

  “Oops,” he said.

  “We’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way. Wolf? Do you think you could track their scent for a while, maybe do a little spying?”

  “Sure,” he answered.

  “Good. Jez and I will continue north. Don’t let them see you. Just keep your eyes and ears—and nose—open.”

  “We should plan on a meeting place,” Jez said.

  “Right. Wolf, let’s see the map,” I said.

  Wolf pulled out the map, but the only thing it showed along our chosen path was the village Jez had mentioned.

  “It’s called Ieri,” I said, pronouncing it eerie.

  “No, you pronounce it yer. Which means ‘yesterday,’ ” Jez said.

  “Thank you, Mistress Smartyfangs,” I said.

  This earned me a hiss and a slap to the back of my head from Jez.

  “Let’s just meet in the Ieri town square tomorrow evening,” I said.

  “What if something happens?” Wolf asked.

  But he already knew the answer. If Wolf didn’t show, we’d assume the worst and go on without him. It wasn’t very nice, but we’re villains. Not-very-nice is what we’re all about.

  After transferring some of the provisions to his pack, Wolf dropped on all fours, pressed his nose to the ground, and disappeared after Chad into the forest. Jez and I continued on the dark path north. Things didn’t seem too bad. I mean, we knew Chad’s whereabouts; we knew what he was up to—mostly. I was feeling pretty optimistic.

  Then a light flared in the darkness, and I noticed some of the trees spontaneously combusting. I was just about to point this out to Jezebel, but she beat me to it.

  “Dragon!” she yell
ed mere moments before turning into a bat with a pop!

  So I was pretty much alone (except for the company of a frantic flying rodent) when a lizard the size of a house came bumbling out of the woods to my right. It had shimmering greenish scales, stubby wings that seemed stuck to its body somehow, flippers in front and clawed feet in back, followed by a long, spiked tail. All of this was topped by not one, not two, but three (yes, three!) dragon heads.

  Smoke curled from the nostrils of its middle head, which bared its fangs furiously. The head directly to the left of the middle had been singed a bit and seemed slightly dazed. However, the head to the right of the smoking middle head (let’s call the middle head Smoky) was downright petrified. It ducked and darted trying to avoid Smoky’s rage. I even thought I saw one of its eyes twitching. I could totally relate.

  Jez landed on my shoulder and whispered in my ear, “It’s just a kid. It still has the webbing pinning down its wings. But it must not be a baby because it looks like it’s discovered how to blow fire. At least, that middle head has.”

  “Great, a dragon going through puberty!” I said.

  Smoky seemed to be looking for an outlet for his dragon-sized teen angst, and then his red eyes fell on me. Cat-a-bats!

  The other two heads—we’ll call them Dazed and Twitchy—suddenly noticed that Smoky had found something to focus his anger on. All three heads were on a mission now to roast the kid and the flying rodent standing conveniently in the middle of the road.

  “We are so going to be fried!” I said.

  My final thought as the dragon trudged clumsily toward me was that I was going to die an unsung death, roasted by a giant, pubescent lizard. I would become a villain’s cautionary tale. In dad’s History of Villainy class, he would say, “Don’t end up like Drexler! Always bring your SPF five million sunscreen while Plotting in the forest!”

  “Jez,” I said. “What’s that spell we learned about deflecting dragon attacks? Something like: