“We have to take him to my place,” Uncle Humphrey said, fishing through the pockets of his tattered trench coat. “Ah—found it!” he said, pulling a cloth bag out of his left inside pocket.
“HELP!” Fluffles yowled. “I’M BEING CATNAPPED!”
“You mean kidnapped,” Lennie said.
“CATNAPPED!” Fluffles cried. “I’m not a goat!”
“Sorry,” Uncle Humphrey said as he popped the block of earth out of the ground and dropped it—with Fluffles still stuck—straight into the bag.
Lennie winced as she heard Fluffles meowing and trying to bite the bag. But what could she do? It wasn’t like they could let Fluffles go—he’d tell Poppop all about their secret plan!
This was the only option, she told herself over and over again as she followed Uncle Humphrey back to his Secret Cave of Secrets. Once they were inside her uncle’s fire den, Humphrey gingerly placed the squirming bag on the table and frowned.
“Aren’t you going to let him out?” Lennie said.
“I can’t let the cat out of the bag!” Humphrey said. “He’ll let the cat out of the bag!”
“I’m just saying to let him breathe!” Lennie said.
Great-Uncle Humphrey opened the bag and placed the slab of earth trapping Fluffles on the table.
“YOU . . . YOU . . . YOU DOG!” Fluffles said, like it was the worst insult imaginable. “I KNEW IT, I KNEW IT, I KNEW YOU WERE UP TO SOMETHING! AND NOW I HAVE PROOF! I followed you, and oh how I’ll be rewarded with catnip and treats!” Even the thought of treats made Fluffles start purring.
“I thought you said you weren’t followed!” Uncle Humphrey said.
“I thought you said you’d be able to tell if anyone got close from the ground and wind!”
“For humans, yes,” Uncle Humphrey said. “But cats are light-footed! They’re paw-sitively nimble.”
“What now?!” Lennie said, pacing around Uncle Humphrey’s small room. “Fluffles is a judge! Poppop will notice if he’s missing from the Wizardmatch festivities!”
“I will tell Mortimer what you’re up to, whoever you are!” the cat said. “. . . Or is it whomever you are?” Fluffles glared at Uncle Humphrey.
“Wait, you don’t know who this is?” Lennie asked. But then she realized—why would he? Sir Fluffington the Fourth was her mom’s childhood cat. Uncle Humphrey was long gone by then.
“Have you,” Uncle Humphrey finally said, “ever wanted a pet?”
Not quite the question she was expecting. “Yes . . . I’ve always wanted a puppy.”
“Those slobbery things?!” scoffed Fluffles.
“Good,” Uncle Humphrey said, and he gestured widely to Fluffles. “This is your new puppy. Every day when you come to train, you will meet me here. You’ll feed your puppy some food, and we’ll work on your magic.”
“You have insulted me, sir!” Fluffles said coldly.
“And what about Poppop?”
“Let’s just hope he doesn’t form a search party in the borderlands. And if he does? I will sink this cave even further beneath the ground, create a labyrinth of tunnels, and hide.”
Lennie frowned deeply.
“Don’t look so worried, Lennie. In three days, this will all be over. We will have magic beyond our wildest dreams! Not to mention, we’ll have something even better than that.”
“And that is?”
He smiled. “Justice.”
* * *
Every night, Lennie snuck out of the castle. She trained with Humphrey for hours, each session more grueling than the last. But she liked it that way—she could feel herself growing stronger and bolder. Even though they’d only been training for four days, she felt like it was more effective than her entire year of practicing by herself.
Of course, training wasn’t the only thing she did. She always took care of Fluffles, stroking his back until he purred and feeding him all sorts of people food: apples, string cheese, cold French fries, and bologna. She did try looking for cat food, but she couldn’t find any, and she didn’t want to raise eyebrows by asking where it was kept, as Poppop was distraught at Fluffles’s disappearance. He searched high and low in the castle and on the grounds, performing summoning spells and luring charms, but it did nothing. He even checked inside the three-headed shark’s stomach chambers, but Fluffles was nowhere to be seen.
“I’m sure he’ll turn up,” Estella said to Poppop as he cried over a bowl of oatmeal on the third day of Fluffles’s disappearance.
“O-o-oatmeal was his favorite foooooood!” Poppop sniveled.
“I’m not sure that’s true . . . but Mortimer, Fluffles steps out all the time! This isn’t the first time he’s gone somewhere.”
Poppop sniffed. “But the second Wizardmatch test is tomorrow!”
“If he doesn’t show up by Saturday, we’ll sound the alarm,” Estella reassured him.
Lennie snuck a little extra food in her pocket and tried not to feel guilty. It wasn’t her fault that Fluffles wasn’t here. She didn’t ask Fluffles to follow her—he was being nosy! Clearly, it was curiosity that catnapped the cat!
On her way out of the dining hall, a bird darted in front of her face.
“What the heck?!” she said, jumping back. She looked around. It wasn’t just the one bird; there was a swarm of them zipping and darting and circling around Perrie, who was using her long, wiggly arms to swat them away.
Lennie ran over to her cousin. “What is going on?!”
“It’s Bo,” Perrie said, catching a hummingbird in her hands, extending her arms, and letting it go outside the dining room. “He’s angry with me because my dad challenged him and his family to a game of trivia last night. Daddy and I crushed them—in front of an audience, too—you weren’t there? Anyway, serves them right.”
“Why, were you mad at them?”
“Of course! Bo’s whole family was gloating about how I was cut from the competition—and bragging about how Bo is still in it. Aunt Lacey was especially . . .”
“Annoying?”
“Insufferable,” Perrie said, catching another bird in her hands and flicking it away.
Meanwhile, from across the room, Ellington waved at Lennie, but Lennie kept her head down and ignored her.
“That’s not all,” Perrie said, not noticing Lennie’s discomfort. “All of the Uncle Philips have been bickering about the results of the first test. Julien seems to be mad at everyone. And Anya and Michael are mad at each other because he farted on her, and she said he was too immature to be in the competition.”
“Surprise, surprise,” Lennie said, just as Ellington called her name from across the dining room again. Lennie looked away.
Perrie squinted at Lennie. “And judging from the way you keep avoiding Ellington, I’m guessing you’re mad at her, too.”
“Wow,” Lennie said. “You’re good. How do you even know about all of this stuff?”
“People think I’m too wrapped up in my books to be listening,” Perrie said slyly. “But it’s my job to know. I know everything! Except maybe astrophysics, but give me a year and I’ll get there.” A bird hit her cheek, and she scrunched her nose. “I will get Bo back for this!” she whispered.
“Then he’s going to come back at you with an even worse bird!” Lennie said. “He’ll get an ostrich to sit on you or something.”
“Well, he started it!” Perrie’s cheeks flushed with anger. “This isn’t my fault. And I have to retaliate.”
Lennie could understand that. After all, she thought as she left the dining hall, I’m retaliating, too. She could hardly wait. Tomorrow, she’d finally get the recognition she wanted, and the payback she so desperately needed. Justice, Uncle Humphrey had said. Sweet, sweet justice.
And it was going to taste so good.
The Garden of Goulash
It was the morning of the second Wizardmatch test,
and Lennie was more ready than ever to end it.
She popped out of bed and began to prepare for the day. Michael looked up at her from beneath his covers. For a moment, she thought he was going to say something, but they hadn’t talked since their last fight. It was the longest she’d ever gone without speaking to him, and she hated it. And she hated herself for hating it.
“Lennie,” Michael said softly. For a second, she thought he was going to apologize, but that was crazy talk: No one in the Mercado family ever apologized. “I’m nervous.”
In surprise, she stopped brushing her hair midstroke. From the way he had been acting, she didn’t think he was worried at all. “You are?” she said, walking over to his bed.
“What if I mess up? What if I fall on my face? What if I get eliminated? What if I die? What if I accidentally eat the mystery meat in the goulash? What if Julien gives me a wedgie? I was up all night thinking about it!”
“You’ll be fine,” she promised him. “Nothing to be nervous about.” Especially since, after today, she and Humphrey would put an end to the competition.
He patted his bed, and she sat down beside him.
“What do you do when you’re nervous?” he asked.
“I take a deep breath . . . and go invisible.”
Michael rubbed his hair sheepishly. “Yeah, I thought you’d say that. I guess that’s good advice.”
Just then, Lennie saw the window behind Michael starting to fog, and her stomach tightened.
You have five seconds to clear the room.
Michael’s back was to the window. He hadn’t seen the message, but if she didn’t get him out now, he might see the next. That couldn’t happen!
“Michael, up!” she said, pulling him out of bed and dragging him to the door.
“HEY! OW! YOU’RE HURTING ME!”
“GET OUT!” she said, pushing him outside the room.
“HEY!” he shouted. “MY KEYS ARE INSIDE! LET ME IN!” He pounded again. “WHAT THE HECK, LENNIE?!”
Michael beat on the door, keeping time with her heart. She almost got caught again . . . as if Fluffles wasn’t a big enough problem!
The writing on the window began to appear:
Good Morning, Lennie!
Although, I am composing this message just after midnight, so is it morning? Or still night? Is tomorrow today? Or is today still today until I wake up into tomorrow? How will I know when today has become tomorrow if I don’t go to sleep? But don’t be preposterous, Humphrey—I must go to sleep, for we have a big day tomorrow (today?).
Meet me. Two p.m.
Need I even ask for potato chips? POTATO CHIPS!!!
When the message disappeared, Lennie sighed and unlocked the door.
Michael’s nose was all scrunched up.
“HEY!” he said. “YOU CAN’T JUST KICK ME OUT OF MY OWN ROOM! What’s going on?!”
“Sorry,” she said. “You can come back in now.”
“No! You hurt my arm before the big test today!” He rubbed his shoulder. “From now on, I’m sleeping in Mom’s room!”
“Good! I’ll finally have some space to myself!” Lennie said as he grabbed his pillows and blanket off his bed.
“You can have a whole life to yourself!” he said, stomping out of the room and slamming the door behind him.
She sat down on his bed and collapsed facedown onto his mattress, her glasses pinching into her nose. If it weren’t for Wizardmatch, she’d still be best friends with Michael. If it weren’t for Wizardmatch, she wouldn’t be fighting with Ellington. If it weren’t for Wizardmatch, she would be talking to her mom. She wouldn’t feel like a reject in her own family.
The more she fumed about Wizardmatch, the more resolved she was to end it. Today.
In the afternoon, she invisibled as she ran across the Garden of Goulash before the family was due to arrive. Then she slipped into the borderlands, coughing in the intense smoggy air and blinking in the darkness.
“You’re here! Excellent,” Uncle Humphrey said, emerging from behind a tree.
“How’s Fluffles?”
“Our furry friend is . . . impatient. As am I.”
“Me too,” Lennie said. Her skin was practically itching for this day to be over.
They sat pretzel-style near the edge of the borderlands while Poppop and Estella set up for the big event. Peering into the Pomporromp property was like looking through a one-way mirror. They could see the grounds perfectly, but no one could see them.
“Where are my po—”
Lennie passed him a bag of chips, and Humphrey squealed.
“So we’re just going to wait here?” Lennie said.
“Precisely. We are waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.” He licked the salt off his fingers. “Do you think anyone will notice you’re gone?”
“No,” Lennie said bitterly. But then that wasn’t entirely true. “Mom will notice, but she’ll just wait until later to yell at me for missing Prince Michael’s big moment. And maybe Ellington will realize I’m missing, but she’s not going to say anything about it.”
“Let’s hope not,” Uncle Humphrey said. And then they waited.
Her heart thudded in fear and leaped in anticipation. I know I’m just as good as everyone else . . . now’s the time to prove it.
Peeking out of the borderlands, Lennie could see four of the remaining contestants standing in a particularly deep, goulashy area, their shoes entirely sunken in the chunky sauce. And the fifth contestant—Victoria—was rolling around in the stew.
“HEAR YE HEAR YE!” boomed Mortimer de Pomporromp from his elevated judges’ podium. He was wearing a poncho, and so was Estella. Whatever crazy scheme Poppop had planned, it was sure to be messy. “WELCOME to the second test of Wizardmatch. First off, I wanted to see if anyone has any information on Sir Fluffington the Fourth’s whereabouts. Anyone? I am desperately despondent!”
There was silence in the stadium, and Lennie guiltily looked down at her shoes. She had no idea how much Poppop would miss Fluffles.
“If anyone knows anything, please let me or Estella know right away! I am very close to declaring a state of emergency on the Pomporromp estate!” He sighed deeply.
“You have to continue on without him, Mortimer,” Estella said. “Sir Fluffington the Fourth would understand.”
Poppop frowned. “In honor of Sir Fluffington the Fourth, the missing and dearly departed, though hopefully not departed departed, if you know what I mean—”
“Mortimer!”
“—we will embark on a little Ghoulish Goulash.”
Humphrey sighed. “Of course he’d select that as one of the tests.”
“What is it?” Lennie asked, but her words were cut off by Poppop’s.
“Before I explain, please give a round of applause for your remaining competitors!” He gestured to the contestants, who were all huddled together in the middle of the Garden of Goulash.
Julien smiled in that self-satisfied way he always did.
Bo stretched his jaw, probably preparing for all the upchucking he was about to do.
Ethan scowled as he looked around, his magical red hair styled in a pompadour.
Victoria, lying on her stomach, was getting goulash all over her face.
And Michael chortled as he kicked around in the messy stew.
Envy and hurt gnawed in Lennie’s chest. She couldn’t watch Michael prance around the field to thunderous applause any longer. At that very moment, she loved him and she hated him and she rooted for him and she was mad at him and she wanted him to win and she wanted him to lose.
Uncle Humphrey watched her carefully. “Michael! That’s your brother, eh?” he said, putting an arm on her shoulder. “He’s kind of a pip-squeak.”
“Well, he’s only ten,” Lennie said.
“And he’s got enormous ear
s.”
“They’re not that big . . .”
“And what’s with those gapped teeth?”
“Stop it!” she said, feeling suddenly protective.
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize we were Team Michael here. Shall I get out my pom-poms?”
“We’re not Team Michael!”
“Could have fooled me,” he said, squinting.
Lennie glared at her great-uncle. “I want to do this! Really, I do!”
Poppop had begun speaking again. “The task is simple. Each of these tombstones behind me represents a Pomporromp who has died! And today . . . I am going to reanimate their spirits. Oh, if only Sir Fluffington the Fourth were here to see this! He loves chasing their ghostly wisps! At least, until they start chasing him back . . . then he becomes a scaredy-cat.”
All of her aunts, uncles, and cousins began whispering to one another. “Aren’t the ghouls dangerous?” Julien called out.
“Of course they’re dangerous!” Poppop said. “That’s exactly the point! They’re searching for warmth, but if any touch you, you’ll DIE.”
Estella elbowed Poppop in the side.
“Okay, not die, but you will be knocked out. Sometimes for an hour, sometimes for a day, sometimes for years! In fact, I got ghouled once,” Poppop added, “and I don’t think I’ve ever fully recovered.”
“You’re just fine, Mortimer,” Estella breathed.
“Would a just fine person sneeze whenever someone says the word snickerdoodle?”
“Snickerdoodle,” Estella said.
“AAAAAH—AAAAHHH—ACHOOOOOOOOO!!!!” Poppop wiped his nose on his sleeve and shouted, “CURSES, ESTELLA! A POX ON YOUR HOUSE!”
Years in a coma seemed like a very dangerous thing. Lennie edged toward her brother, even though he couldn’t see her or hear her from her spot beyond the Pomporromp property’s border.
Poppop continued. “Your goal is to get these ghouls out of the garden and over to the grass—without ever stepping out of the goulash yourself. If you step out of the goulash, you are AUTOMATICALLY DISQUALIFIED.” Poppop laughed maniacally for a moment, then cleared his throat and moved on. “Now, your body heat is like a magnet to these ghouls, so you’re going to have to be creative in how you get them out of the garden area. Once all the ghouls are out—or all the players are comatose—we’ll stop the test. And now,” Poppop said grandly, holding his wizard staff high in the air, “we are going to wake the ghouls! Brace yourselves!”
Wizardmatch Page 16