by Sheila Grau
“Oh, no,” I said. I felt so bad for my friend. His father—er, creator—was a perfectionist. Frankie was amazing in so many ways too. It was cruel to only see his faults and ignore his talents.
“What’d he tell you this time?” Darthin asked.
Frankie lifted his head, sniffed, and said, “I’m too emotional.” Then he plopped his head back down.
I was worried about my roommates. I couldn’t do anything for Frankie, but maybe I could help ease Darthin’s worries by talking to Dr. Critchlore. I was sure Darthin wouldn’t be chosen for a field trip, but I knew he wouldn’t be convinced unless I told him that those words came from our headmaster himself. I decided to go visit Dr. Critchlore before my next class.
There was a new, younger guy behind the secretary’s desk. It looked like Professor Vodum had been fired after he’d tried to trick Dr. Critchlore into giving him a better job. This new guy was crisp and neat, from his haircut and clothes to the desk in front of him. He was focused on his work, opening and sorting the mail with quick efficiency and a sour look on his face that reminded me of someone.
Dr. Critchlore’s office door was open. It looked exactly like it had before Syke’s sabotage, but with three smaller portraits of Dr. Critchlore replacing the giant one that used to hang behind the secretary’s desk.
“Um, hi,” I said to the new guy. “Professor Vodum’s not coming back?”
“Mr. Vodum is now a recruiting assistant,” the new guy replied. “He’s performing his duties off campus. If you are looking for him, I can pass along a message.”
He opened his desk and pulled out a pad of paper. The letterhead read, “From the desk of Barry Merrybench.”
I felt my jaw drop open in shock. “Are you related to Miss Merrybench, the late former secretary?”
“I’m her nephew,” he said. “Did you know her?”
“Yes,” I said. I managed to keep myself from adding, “She tried to kill me.” Instead, I smiled and said, “Can I see Dr. Critchlore?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he answered. “He’s much too important to see students. There’s a string of command, you know. If you have a problem, you start with your teacher, then your guidance counselor, then the dean of students. They will bring any unresolved issues to our headmaster.”
“But I always—”
“Oh, I know who you are now.” He stood up and came around the desk and stood in front of me, blocking my access to Dr. Critchlore’s office. “Karen told me about you. You’re Runt Higgins.”
“But Miss Merrybench is dead,” I said.
“Is she?” he asked sarcastically.
“Yes. She was eaten by zombies.”
“Was she? Did anyone find a body?”
He grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the office while that horror-filled sentence seeped into my brain. Was it possible? No. It couldn’t be.
As we reached the door, we bumped into two of the most hideous, disgusting, terrifying creatures I’d ever seen. They stood over six feet tall, with moist reddish brown skin, like a slug. Huge round mouths that looked like giant suction cups filled up most of their heads, with thousands of tiny teeth.
I screamed. I knew what these were. Giant leech-men. They sucked the blood out of anything and everything they met.
Barry Merrybench and I stepped back. One of the creatures held out a piece of paper. Barry took it and read aloud: “Dear Dr. Critchlore, Here are two new students I think will do quite well in the ‘HOLY BLACK TERROR, WHAT IS THAT THING?!’ program. Yours, Head Recruiter Vodum.”
“You have got to be kidding me,” I said.
“Get That Thing Out of Here!” “What Did I Just Step In?” and “We’re Going to Need a Bigger Net.”
—OTHER SPECIAL PROGRAMS AT DR. CRITCHLORE’S SCHOOL
My last class of the day was Introduction to Sabotage. The teacher based his entire lecture on what Syke had done before leaving. He covered the blackboard with complicated diagrams of the stables, the grandstands, Dr. Critchlore’s office, and the Wall of Heroes. He gazed at his work, shook his head, and muttered, “Four attack zones . . . perfectly timed execution . . . clean getaway. How’d she do it?”
Everyone looked at me, but I had no idea.
Once class was over, the moment I’d been dreading arrived. I had to go to the swamp.
Mistress Moira had sent a letter with detailed instructions on how to get rid of the tether curse that had left wide red bands on my wrists. The Tether Curse Removal Procedure had to be done during the right phase of the moon, and she wasn’t going to be back in time to help me. It didn’t look difficult, but everything had to be done EXACTLY RIGHT (her caps).
First, I had to collect some swamp mud.
I didn’t want to go alone, but Frankie was busy with Dr. Frankenhammer and Darthin wouldn’t go near the swamp because he was scared of swamp monsters, two-headed swamp cats, and Kevin. I didn’t want to ask Boris or Eloni to skip hoopsmash practice because we had a game coming up at the Pravus Academy.
As I left class, I fell in step beside Meztli.
“Meztli, has anyone showed you the swamp?” I asked. I knew it was lame to lure him into coming with me, but Meztli was a were-jaguar. He could come in handy in a pinch.
“No, but we have muchas swamps in my country,” he said. “I don’t like them.”
“Me, neither, but I have to get some mud.” I lifted the bucket I’d left outside of class.
“You need amigo?” he asked. “I go with you.”
“Really? Thanks!”
“No problem. On the way you can tell me about Minion Games. They’re starting tomorrow, and I don’t know what they are.”
“Deal.”
We took off, heading through the Memorial Garden. It was a nice afternoon, with a partly cloudy sky and no wind. Meztli climbed up onto the Wall of Heroes and walked along the top until someone told him to get off. He jumped down with the grace and agility of a cat—naturally.
“Do you always do stuff like that?” I asked.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know, just do whatever you feel like doing? As long as someone doesn’t tell you not to.”
He shrugged. “How else do you learn the rules?”
I pointed to the sign that read, DO NOT CLIMB ON THE WALL OF HEROES.
“In my country, there are so many rules. Everywhere you go, signs saying ‘Don’t do this,’ ‘Don’t do that.’ But most of them don’t mean anything. In one park, there’s a sign that says, ‘Do not climb the árboles.’”
“You don’t climb trees?”
“Sure, we climb trees. You see a tree—how do you not climb it? Some rules, nobody is going to do anything if you break them.”
“That’s so confusing.”
“We know which rules are important: do not steal, do not hurt others, do not eat the chili peppers growing on Telva hill. And we know which are not important: do not wear sandals in winter. Here, I don’t know. So I have to figure it out.”
“I just follow all the rules,” I said.
“Yes, I can tell that about you.”
Once through the Memorial Garden we took the route that cut past the cemetery and continued next to the necromancer’s building. Along the way, I filled Mez in on the Minion Games.
“The teachers separate us into five teams,” I said. “Over the course of the week we compete in different challenges, getting points for each win. The challenges change each year, which makes it fun. Nobody knows what to expect. It could be a physical game, or a treasure hunt, or something else. Last year, one of the events was a timed siege. The team that was able to breach the practice siege wall fastest won.
“Each team has at least one of each type of minion, because you never know what the challenge is going to be. Your team might need a flying minion, or one that can breathe underwater, for instance. There are also nonphysical events, like the Quiz Bowl, the Dissection Trials, and the Team Spirit competition.”
“Is that to see who cheers
the loudest?”
“No, it’s a competition for ghosts. At the end of the week, we have a float parade and everyone dresses up to match their theme, and then the winning team is announced. The winners get a great prize too. Last year it was a free day off, spent at the Evil Overlord Adventure Amusement Park in Stull City.”
We reached the edge of the lake and walked to where the marshlands spread out in a swampy, goopy mess that smelled like rotting wood and algae and death.
“Hey, Kevin,” I said to the corpse-like alligator man bathing in the shallows.
“Hello, Runt,” he said before slipping underneath the water. Kevin is shy.
We worked our way through dangling tree branches and slippery soil until we reached a small clearing. I put out an arm to stop Meztli.
“There’s a swamp monster in there,” I said. “Maybe more than one. They don’t move too fast out of water, but they’re really quiet, so they can sneak up on you.”
“Like the cocodrilos,” he said, nodding.
“Also, we’re supposed to be on the lookout for some small trees with gray-green needles, about as tall as me.”
“Like that?” Meztli said. He pointed to the edge of the water where, in a cluster of trees, one of the little buggers was splashing around. “That’s not normal.”
“It’s an enchanted weeping blue atlas cedar,” I said. “I’m going to see if I can reason with it.”
I edged closer, not wanting to startle it. I used my softest voice, “Hey there, cedar, whatcha doing?”
It stopped moving and turned to me, limbs hanging limply. It looked like a gray-green mummy, only pricklier, because of the needles. But the shape of the tree was very mummy-like—round head, drooping branch arms, two thick trunk-legs.
“Wanna come see Tootles with me?” I said. “He’s got a nice spot picked out for you.”
The tree screeched, “Nooooo!” and then splashed water at me.
I wiped the water off my face. “Tree, you come with me right now!” I said, hoping my forceful tone would get it to cooperate.
“NOOOOOOOO!” it said, and then it ran off, pretty quickly for a tree, its branches waving above its head like a crazy person.
Meztli laughed. “That tree sounded like my little brother. He’s three and so stubborn. Always ‘no’ this, ‘no’ that.”
This was a disaster. How was I going to round up six stubborn little toddler trees when I couldn’t go any farther into the swamp? Maybe I could tell Tootles that I’d spotted one, and he could send someone else to come get it.
I scooped up my bucket of mud, and Mez and I walked back to see if the Minion Games teams had been posted. As we walked, I asked him about his home, Galarza.
“Very dry in the winter. Hot and rainy in summer. We grow sugar canes on my farm. Many times the hill monsters come and eat what we grow, but we always manage to save some of the crop. When the winds come from Skelterdam, we have to stay inside. Very hot winds, full of the poisons.
“Is a difficult life,” he said, beginning to tear up. “I miss it so much.”
A huge crowd was huddled near the posting wall, where important announcements like dorm assignments and club sign-ups were posted. Most everyone had already found their names on the list and were busy comparing team strengths and weaknesses. There were five lists, each titled with a color. We’d arrived late, so we didn’t have to push our way to the front. There were only a few kids ahead of us.
“I’m Red,” Meztli said. “You?”
“Blue,” I said, scanning the list to see who else was on my team. My happiness deflated like a leaky balloon when I saw Rufus’s name. I knew from experience that it was no fun being on his team, especially if you weren’t a monster.
Back in my room, I sat on my bed. Things weren’t looking so great—I was failing my junior henchman class, I hadn’t been able to snag the toddler tree, I had no minions to lead, and Janet was leaving school for a while. I pulled out my Good List and a pencil and tried to find a bright spot in all that stuff.
I wrote, “I made a new friend—Meztli.”
And then I braced myself for the work ahead, because tonight there was going to be a full moon.
Tether curses are effective, but they aren’t for everyone. Cursing may cause temporary blindness, nausea, and insomnia. Do not curse while pregnant or when operating heavy machinery.
—WARNING AFTER AN ADVERTISEMENT FOR MIRANDA’S SPECIALTY CURSE KIT
According to my instructions, I had to perform the Tether Curse Removal Procedure during a full moon.
At midnight.
In the cemetery.
Naked, but covered in swamp mud, which smelled terrible.
I didn’t mind the stinky swamp mud. Or midnight. Or even the cemetery. But the naked part terrified me.
I headed out at 11:30 p.m. I hadn’t told anyone about this project, for obvious reasons. The cemetery was quiet, and the full moon made everything much brighter than I would have liked.
Luckily, it wasn’t as cold as it might’ve been, and I was comfortable in my cargo pants and sweatshirt. We were finally easing out of winter’s cold grasp, and the skies were clear.
I put the instructions on the ground, next to my DPS (Dungeon Positioning System and all-around helpful electronic device), stripped to my underwear, and slathered on the mud. It felt kind of good, actually. I spread it everywhere, even under my underwear, but I kept my underwear on. The mud covered every part of my skin.
11:55 p.m. Howling sounds drifted down from Mount Curiosity. For a second I wondered if this was a Night Prowl night, when monsters practice stalking pretend “prey,” but then my DPS beeped with the reminder alarm I’d programmed.
11:59 p.m. I watched the seconds tick down. As the DPS clock switched to 12:00 midnight, I chanted, “Wentervix, carma, wentervix, newt. Glaffry, glaffry, quiplord, fint.”
I repeated it four times, facing each cardinal point: North, East, South, and West.
Next came the spins. Arms wide, head back. Ten spins.
And then I heard laughing and lost track of my spins. A cold fear swept through my body, starting in my stomach and radiating outward. I closed my eyes and begged the world to tell me it was just the wind.
“Hey, look—Runt’s still trying to change into a werewolf!” I heard someone yell.
“Oh, man, talk about pathetic.”
A herd of monsters stood outside the cemetery fence, staring at me: werewolves, mummies, monkey-men, a couple trolls, and in front of them all, my nemesis, Rufus. If that wasn’t bad enough, Bianca and a bunch of other siren girls had joined the Night Prowl.
If I hadn’t been covered in swamp mud, I would’ve looked like a tomato, I was so embarrassed.
“It won’t work, Runt!” Jud shouted through the bars. “You are what you are.”
“Maybe we should bite him,” Rufus said.
“That’s a myth,” Jud said. “It won’t turn him into a werewolf.”
“I know. I just want to bite him.”
I wanted to curl up and sink into the mud.
“Whoa, who are they?” Bianca said, pointing to a group of skeletons rattling their way toward us from the road.
Rufus shrugged and led the group off. The skeletons followed them for a few steps, but then noticed me, standing in my underwear in the middle of the cemetery. They quickly turned my way, sensing easy prey.
“I know, I know—I look stupid,” I said to them. “No need to rub it in.”
There was something different about these guys. Around school, the skeletons wore the same uniform as the rest of us—black cargo pants, T-shirt, and grade-level colored jacket. These guys were all bones, their whiteness shining in the moonlight like glowsticks. And they weren’t all human. One looked like a dog skeleton, one had horns growing out of a long head, and another was eight feet tall, with long arms and huge hands. A short one had a wide, thick rib cage and carried a club.
My embarrassment turned to fear as each skeleton focused on me with empty eye
sockets that were darker than the night. I felt hypnotized, like those black holes were sucking me in with their powerful gravity.
I backed away, tripping over a mound of dirt and falling to the ground. Now they came at me faster, bones rattling in air that had gone still. Even the wind was afraid of these guys. As I scrambled to get up, the short one ran forward and grabbed my arm. He—or she—yanked me up, teeth clicking together, ready to take a bite out of me. Another skeleton grabbed my clothes and my DPS.
I screamed and pulled free, sprinting for the lake. I thought they would stay in the cemetery, but they followed me.
The lake was a dead end. I ran out to the end of the pier, and the skeletons still came after me, reaching for me with their bony fingers and taunting me with my stuff. Like I was stupid enough to go back to them just because they had my clothes.
I jumped. What else could I do?
The shock of icy water sucked my breath away, and I had to surface quickly for air before diving back under. I swam as fast as I could underwater, hoping the skeletons couldn’t see which way I had gone. Maybe they’d keep walking out to the end of the pier, and I could come up behind them on the beach and then run back to my dorm.
Underwater, running out of air, I felt something latch on to my arm. I tried to yank out of it, but it held tight.
What’s up, bro? Midnight swim?
Pismo.
Long story, I thought at my merman friend. Trying to get away from some skeletons.
Let me talk to them, he said, keeping hold of me so I wouldn’t need air.
I stayed under while he peeked out of the water. In a flash, he was back under.
Who are those guys? he thought at me.
I don’t know, but they’re not your friends, are they? Pismo usually ate at the skeleton table in the cafeteria.
No. I guess we got some newbies. Why were they after you? And why are you only wearing underwear?
Mistress Moira gave me instructions to get rid of a curse, and I was covered in swamp mud in the cemetery. They saw me and started chasing me.