‘Pteeed, neeel?’ cried Yesterday gently.
The spined monster glanced towards Dr Mussells and the others, then, seeming reassured they weren’t going to attack Yesterday, took wing.
Once again the air was full of leather and strange high-pitched squeals. Then they were gone.
‘What … how …?’ began Boo. The world swam around him. His paws felt like marshmallows.
Tears rolled down Yesterday’s cheeks. But she didn’t bother to wipe them away. ‘They’re dinosaurs. My dinosaurs. That’s who I am — Yesterday of … Yesterday.’
‘I don’t understand …’ began Boo. His brain was mush. He didn’t know what to say, or how to say it. The energy and desperation that had driven him had seeped away, leaving him as cold as the Greedle’s glance.
Dr Mussells swung down onto rocky ground. ‘I think,’ he said quietly, ‘that we can assume the Greedle is no longer a threat. Even if it’s managed to escape — and I profoundly hope it’s lying there with the rest of its bogeys — it can’t hurt us now. Come on, lad. You too,’ he added to Mug and Yesterday. ‘Well done, the lot of you.’ He tossed his bananas to Boo and Yesterday, then reached into the bus, pulled out another and threw it to Mug.
‘Come on, now,’ he said firmly. ‘Back to school.’
‘But, sir —’ began Boo. The world shivered once again and everything went black.
It was cold in the sick bay, despite the glop glop glop of the hot lava below the window, and the tendrils of steam from a crack in the walls. Boo lay under a blanket on the bed, his nose to his bum, and shivered. He didn’t think he’d ever be warm again. The coldness of the vision of death lingered in his bones.
But the chill of despair was worse. He could never follow the Greedle or its monsters back into the Ghastly Otherwhen now. Mum was trapped there forever! And it was all because of him.
He wanted to whine. He wanted to howl, or hide under his blanket forever, shutting out the world. A world without Mum.
But he couldn’t. He had friends who relied on him, just as he relied on them, people who needed him …
Life had to go on, no matter how much it hurt.
A shadow appeared by the door. ‘Boo? Are you okay?’
‘Ms Punch say he got broken leg and torn ear and …’ The booming voice could only belong to Mug.
Yesterday sighed. ‘I meant are you okay enough for visitors?’
‘I’m okay.’ Boo’s voice sounded flat, even to himself.
‘Me brought you bone to eat,’ offered Mug, pulling out a big meaty lump from somewhere in his fungus. ‘It not a zombie bone, though. Zombie bone too wriggly when you not well.’
‘Um, thanks.’ Boo tried not to look at the bone. It reminded him too much of the bloody scraps that had been all that was left of the Greedle and its monsters. He might never gnaw another bone again, he thought. ‘What’s been happening?’
Yesterday pulled up a chair by the bed. Mug squatted next to her.
‘We all unfroze soon as your rat stink dripped all over us.’ Mug rumbled. ‘That rat smell good! Princess unfroze too, but she couldn’t come help rescue you on account she left her electric blanket on back at palace. Her had to run back and turn it off.’
‘Oh,’ said Boo.
‘And Mug’s zombie spaghetti is still holding the mountain together …’
‘Zombie spaghetti never let go,’ said Mug proudly.
‘Dr Mussells is busy organising repairs. He’s got to make a report to the Interuniversal Council of Heroes, as well as the parents.’
Boo nodded. It wouldn’t be easy, he thought, to find a way to tell parents that their kids’ school had been nearly destroyed by the Greedle and his bogeys.
‘Dr Mussells say me and Yesterday Level 4 Heroes now! Him announce it tomorrow at Speech Day!’ added Mug proudly. ‘He say to tell you “well done,” and him see you tomorrow too.’ Mug frowned. ‘You be okay for Speech Day?’
‘I’ll be fine. Level 4 … congratulations! You deserve it.’ And they did, thought Boo. The whole school would have vanished without Mug and his zombie spaghetti. And he bet Yesterday was the bravest Hero the school had ever known, leading the Greedle and its monsters away by herself. He looked up at Yesterday, sitting so quietly by his bed.
‘Is that really your world?’
Yesterday nodded without looking at him.
‘It was … wild. Horrible,’ said Boo.
Yesterday turned her face away. ‘So now you know,’ she said softly. ‘I’m not a golden princess, like Princess. I never will be. I’m just — Yesterday, from a dead world.’
Boo wanted to whimper at the pain in her eyes. ‘I don’t understand. How can you live in a universe like that? Survive there with those creatures?’
‘I look after them,’ said Yesterday simply. ‘That’s my job. That’s why they attacked the bogeys and left you alone — they could smell me on you, so they knew you were my friend. The bogeys were attacking us. So they …’
‘Yes,’ said Boo. He shivered again. It was going to be hard to forget the shriek of despair and the wet gurgling sounds as the creatures ate the bogeys.
‘They’re dinosaurs,’ said Yesterday. ‘Pterodactyls. Pteradons. All the creatures that have vanished in other universes are still alive on Yesterday.’
‘But why are you there with them?’ cried Boo.
‘I’m … I’m a slave. It’s my job. Yesterday — the world, not me — is a …’ She frowned. ‘I suppose you’d call it a zoo. Or a museum. It’s owned by the Guardians. They own me too. They visit Yesterday to show their children the animals that are extinct everywhere else. Slaves like me look after the animals. Every one of us is called “Yesterday”. I don’t even have my own name. I look after the animals in Quarter 15, distribute them food.’ She shook her head. ‘What there is of it. The Guardians don’t realise how much dinosaurs need to eat … or maybe they think they put on a better show if they’re hungry and attack each other.’
‘So that’s why you took the garbage and the slugs?’ said Boo wonderingly.
Yesterday nodded. ‘For them. They’re always almost starving. And me,’ she added softly. ‘You have no idea how hungry I get sometimes. I … I’m very good with the animals. Better than any of the other slaves. I can Find them if they’re in trouble. I can even talk to them, so the Guardians sent me here. They thought that I’d learn useful skills here, to make me a better keeper. And besides,’ she added bitterly, ‘a Hero slave is valuable. Maybe when I graduate they’ll sell me for even more money. You can do anything you want to a slave.’
Boo struggled to sit up. ‘But why didn’t you tell us?’ he barked. ‘I’d have brought you a lot more than a few bananas,’ he added guiltily, thinking of all the food he’d eaten while Yesterday had watched, hungry.
‘What? That I’m only a slave? Less than the dust? Not a princess like Princess. Just … nothing,’ said Yesterday bitterly. ‘Nothing at all.’
‘You Hero,’ said Mug. ‘And friend,’ he added firmly.
‘That’s right,’ said Boo. ‘Yesterday, look at us! Don’t turn away! You’re our friend. And you’re going to be a brilliant Finder. Those Guardians don’t own you! No one can own another person. They just think they do! And — and somehow we’ll find enough money to buy you from the Guardians … or find another way to free you and —’
‘What?’ Yesterday was almost smiling again through her tears. ‘You … you don’t mind?’
‘Of course we mind!’ said Boo fiercely. ‘We mind that you’ve been lonely. We mind that those Guardians think they can use you! We mind that you’ve been hungry —’
‘Have idea!’ rumbled Mug. The others looked at him in surprise. ‘All bogeys that Heroes kill, we send to Yesterday. Then dinosaurs have lots to eats!’ said Mug triumphantly. ‘No worries!’
‘And we’ll find some way to free you,’ said Boo, still fierce.
‘I’ll cost a lot,’ warned Yesterday. She really was smiling now. ‘Especially with all my
Hero training —’
‘We’ll manage somehow,’ growled Boo. ‘One day. But for now — friends. Okay?’
He held out his paw. Yesterday took it, while Mug took her other hand. ‘Friends share things,’ said Boo. ‘Good things as well as danger. Friends together.’
‘Together,’ echoed Yesterday.
‘No worries,’ rumbled Mug.
‘Squeak,’ said Squeak, sticking his nose up over the blanket. And, for the first time ever, Boo saw Yesterday laugh.
29
A True Hero
Boo stared at his reflection in the mirror. His fur was brushed. His collar was polished. He’d even had a (aaaaagh!) bath last night without anyone telling him to. He looked as good as a werewolf pup could look, except for his leg, which was still in plaster. Even his torn ear looked dashing.
But he still looked more like a puppy than a Hero.
He sighed. He should be happy. He was glad that his friends were going to be made Level 4s at today’s Speech Day. They deserved it! And the school dance next week with Yesterday … that was going to be good too. Then school holidays and next term.
Boo glanced at his reflection again. Was that puppy in the mirror really a Hero? He’d only gone to the school to work out how to rescue Mum. And now …
No, he thought. He did want to go back to school next term. He’d make it to Level 4 somehow. And then he would find a way to get to the Ghastly Otherwhen. He didn’t know how … or when. But just for a moment he felt as he had when he had the Greedle in his jaws again, and knew he could never let it go.
‘Are you ready, Boo? You smell hot!’ Spot galloped up the stairs. She gazed at him, her tongue lolling to one side. ‘I wish I could come to Speech Day with you. But Dad says students only get one ticket for someone who’s not their parents. The Werewolf General’s waiting for you downstairs,’ she added.
Boo looked at her. So much had happened in the last few months. He used to be like Spot, happy playing Frisbee by the creek. And now … Boo limped down the stairs.
The Werewolf General’s fur was brushed. His medals hung from his collar. Even his wooden leg was polished.
Boo had tried to tell the Werewolf General that there was no point in his coming to Speech Day. Boo wasn’t going to get an award, and he’d be fine by himself. But the Werewolf General had insisted.
They limped through the living room together. At least I still have all my legs, thought Boo, glancing down at the Werewolf General’s wooden paw. And it was good to have someone by his side, even if they weren’t family. Friends can be family too, he thought.
‘Bye, Boo!’ called Mrs Bigpaws. ‘You do look smart! A perfect Hero.’
‘Thanks, Mrs Bigpaws,’ muttered Boo.
‘We’re proud of you, young pup,’ added Mr Bigpaws.
Boo and the Werewolf General limped up the street to the Best Ice-Cream Shop in the Universes. The winter’s slush had vanished now. Spring flowers dotted the gardens. A couple of little pigs fluttered above. Boo snapped at one halfheartedly, and watched as it flapped up and landed on a branch of blossom.
‘Oink,’ it said reproachfully, sending a tiny dropping onto the footpath below. The pigs were wearing little hats today, to protect them from the spring sun.
Boo pushed the shop door open with his nose. The ice-cream scents were fading. He could hardly smell Mum these days, either.
‘Do you still miss her?’ asked the Werewolf General, as Boo traced his paw through the dust on one of the churns. ‘Sorry. Stupid question. Of course you do.’
Boo shrugged. What did it matter if the shop grew dusty, and the churns stayed still and empty? Boo padded after the Werewolf General into the bedroom, then slunk down to follow him under the bed.
The floor sank below them into the wormhole.
‘Squeak!’ The mouse scampered along the tunnel, then leapt down into the pouch on Boo’s collar.
Boo tried to feel happy as they limped towards the school. But all the other kids would have parents at Speech Day. Well, except for Yesterday …
Yesterday had no one. At least he had an adopted family. Mrs Bigpaws had even made him poodle pancakes for breakfast. And the Werewolf General cared enough to come with him today.
No, thought Boo, as the red glow of the School for Heroes appeared at the end of the wormhole, compared to Yesterday’s my life is —
‘Student and ex-student approaching!’ barked the Werewolf General.
Boo stared as they came out of the wormhole, all other thoughts forgotten. Who would have thought the School for Heroes could look like this?
The school had been transformed!
Red and yellow balloons floated above the heat of the lava pit. Jones the Janitor had even managed to stick tiny red and yellow skulls on the cliff above the dark entrance to the school. More tiny skulls and needle daggers dangled from the strands of zombie spaghetti that still held the volcano together.
But the people! thought Boo. He hadn’t realised the universes held so many creatures as this! The ledge was crammed. Heroes in wheelchairs with fangs or furry whiskers, Heroes on walking frames with flames for paws or leathery wings and Heroes with walking sticks roamed about the school ledge, peering at the students and making the occasional disparaging comment.
There were more lassoos, swords, ancient shields, tiaras, hearing aides and pairs of glasses than Boo had thought existed. Ms Snott looked particularly heroic in a dress made entirely of daggers crocheted together, with two more daggers thrust into her hair.
Parents wandered through wisps of steam with their would-be Hero kids. Parents with three eyes, six legs or butterfly wings, parents who looked human till you saw their forked tongues or claw-like hands. And there were Mug and his parents and Glug and Graunt Doom, by the trestles covered with plates of food and big urns of tea, nectar, embalming fluid, blood, and various other fluids preferred by creatures from even stranger universes.
The School for Heroes suddenly smelt of scones and tea kettles as well as lava. Click, click, went the Werewolf General’s wooden paw on the hot rock. Thud, thud, thud, went Boo’s plaster leg.
‘Good to see you looking better, sonny!’ cackled Dahlia the Dazzling. She was still arm-in-arm with Gloria the Gorgeous, each splendid in new spangled skirts and six tonnes of lipstick.
‘Told you we’d see the werewolf puppy!’ boomed Graunt Doom, poking at Boo’s coat with her stick. She was wearing a hat today, green with a feather in it, though when Boo looked at it again he thought he saw a pair of eyes blink at him.
‘Of course you’d see him,’ muttered Princess Princess. It was the first time Boo had seen her since the night the Greedle invaded. She was looking particularly heroic today, in tiny silver pants trimmed with diamonds and an even tinier diamante-studded top, and a tiara in her curls. ‘He goes to school here, doesn’t he?’ She was with a man Boo supposed was her father, tall and striking in a dark blue velvet suit with white fur around the cuffs, and a gold crown on his head.
‘Good show, what?’ the King said vaguely. ‘Lots of animals here. Always liked animals. Eaten a lot of them in my time. Terribly hot, though. Time they turned the air-conditioning up.’
‘Told you he’d bring Widdles,’ roared Graunt Doom.
‘Who’s Widdles?’ asked Boo.
‘Me,’ said the Werewolf General meekly. ‘It was my nickname at school. Miss Doom here was my teacher.’
‘Hmmph,’ boomed Graunt Doom. ‘You widdled on classroom doorpost in my class.’
‘Sorry,’ said the Werewolf General. ‘I hadn’t quite got the hang of bathrooms.’ But he was grinning, and looking keenly at the food selection.
‘Graunt Doom coming back to teach,’ rumbled Mug.
‘Me replace Miss Cassandra,’ thundered Graunt Doom. ‘She remembered she getting too forgetful to be good Finder any more. Told you I was just retired for a while. Could have told you all that Greedle going to invade, too.’
‘Why didn’t you?’ demanded Boo.
Gra
unt Doom grinned, showing her crumbled teeth. ‘Worked out best like this. You see. Me knew it would.’ She picked up a scone and inspected it. ‘Boring,’ she boomed in what she probably thought was a mutter. ‘Food no fun if it don’t wriggle.’
‘Would you like a scone, sir?’ Boo asked the Werewolf General. Somehow he didn’t feel like one himself, not after seeing the Greedle eat a trayful as the school rumbled and shivered. Maybe he’d never eat a scone again.
‘Always ready for a scone,’ barked the Werewolf General, sitting on his haunches. Boo sat too in the shade of one of the trestles while the Werewolf General wolfed down a scone with apricot jam (Boo was glad there was no strawberry) and a chicken and chutney sandwich and a small cheese and lettuce roll, and lapped a cup of tea that one of the old Heroes had considerately put into a doggie bowl.
‘Squeak!’ said Squeak.
‘Oh, all right.’ Boo bit off a crust of cheese sandwich. Squeak took it in his tiny paws. Then all three trotted after the crowd to the school hall: the big cavern deep in the mountain where Boo had widdled on his first, terrible day.
‘Over here!’ It was Mug, waving at him from the back of the hall in the seat just behind Princess Princess and the King. ‘Me mind you seats!’ rumbled Mug. ‘No one minds zombie smell here at the back.’
Graunt Doom nodded thoughtfully as Boo and Squeak and the General squeezed into their seats. ‘That girl Yesterday — she make great Finder one day.’
‘Are you telling us that?’ asked Boo. He looked round for Yesterday. Yes, there she was, on the other side of the hall. She caught his eye and waved and started to come over to them.
‘Too right. No worries,’ pronounced Graunt Doom, bashing her hat to stop it making rude faces at the ancient Heroes in the row behind.
‘All stand!’
Boo stood with the others as the teachers filed in behind Dr Mussells, knuckling his way up the hall and onto the stage.
The school choir sang while the teachers watched. Ms Snott coolly juggled her daggers and Dr Mussells leapt high and swung from a thick rope suspended above the stage. Everyone sat again as Dr Mussells read out the names of all the students who were going up a level. Boo wagged his tail as hard as he could against the back of his chair to join in the clapping as Mug and then Yesterday went up on stage to have their hands shaken and get their Level 4 scrolls.
Lessons for a Werewolf Warrior Page 20