by Sheila Grau
“To the kitchen,” I said. “I have an idea.”
Mez followed me to the back entrance to the kitchen, which was empty. I grabbed a big plastic freezer bag and filled it with some raw squid that Cook used to make fried calamari for Dr. Critchlore. The rest of us got seafood tetrazzini.
“A little snack?” Mez asked.
“Not for me,” I said.
Mez and I headed out of the kitchen and through the cafeteria.
“Where you going now?” he asked.
“The underground grotto,” I said. “Don’t you have a job to do?”
“I’m doing it,” he said.
“Following me?”
“Sí. Drangulus says you know this school better than anyone. He said that you’ll figure it out before that stupid werewolf.”
I laughed. “I wish he’d tell that to Professor Murphy. Come on, then.”
We made it to the grotto, which was dark, except for a string of dim lightbulbs. Water dripped off stalactites into an otherwise calm and very dark lake below.
“There they are!” Mez said. The brightly colored flags floated just below the surface of the water. Before Mez could rush to the edge, I grabbed his arm and held him back.
“It’s a trap. The fish monster will get you if you step too close,” I said. “Look.” I pointed to a dark shape underneath the water.
“Ooooh. It’s grande, no?”
“Muy grande.”
I pulled out my bag of squid. “I’m going to put this in the water over there, and then we can grab our flags, okay?”
I walked around the edge of the water, as far from the flags as I could get. I went slowly, looking out for those tentacles. I placed the squid in the shallows and nearly jumped in fright when I heard a sound like branches creaking in the wind.
I looked over to a dark corner and saw a little tree with gray-green needles that sparkled in the dim light. The tree was shivering.
“Hello?” I asked. “Are you Googa’s friend? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
“Creeeeaack,” the tree whispered.
I stepped toward him, or her, or both. (I still hadn’t learned how trees handle the whole gender thing.) The tree shook harder and moaned, pointing behind me, where a giant tentacle as thick as my leg rose out of the water, stretching to the ceiling. I jumped out of the way.
“Yikes!”
The tentacle snatched the squid.
“Meztli—grab the flags!”
Meztli reached his hand into the water, but as soon as it got wet, he pulled it out, shaking it vigorously.
Cats, sheesh.
I ran over, waded in, and grabbed our flags.
“Sorry,” he said, shrugging.
The tree had hustled after me and now stood behind Meztli, still shaking.
“Creak, let’s get you out of here.”
“Well done,” a voice from the shadows said.
I turned and saw Professor Dunkirk, with a bag of fish and a grappling hook, just in case. She pushed a button on her DPS, and we heard the alarm bell blast one time. This was the signal to the other teams that the flags had been found.
At the entrance to the grotto, Creak didn’t know which way to go. Aww, the poor little sapling had been lost down here. I grabbed a branch and led the way out of the dungeon.
Once outside, I handed Mez his red flag, but he wouldn’t take it.
“Why not? We could both earn a point.”
“You earned that, not me. Plus, you need to get on a search team. It would be better if only you got the flag.”
“Thanks, Mez.” I reached out to pat him on the back, and as I did, a furry shape charged between us, snatching my blue flag with its mouth. Jud, in werewolf form.
“Hey!” Mez yelled. In a flash he morphed into a jaguar and chased after Jud.
Creak followed too, yelling, “Cheaterrrrrr!”
I watched the tree chase the cat, who chased the dog into the hedge maze. Other students wandered back to the field, looking dejected. I saw my team near the end line, and walked over.
“Stupid mummies,” Rufus said. “They slowed me down. I couldn’t go fast enough, I kept having to wait for them, so I could place them as markers.”
“Who got the flag?” someone asked.
“I did,” I said. “It was in the grotto, like I said. Jud just stole it from me.”
At that moment, Jud sped over, having lost Mez in the maze. Rufus grabbed the flag from his mouth.
“Good thing I sent you there,” Rufus smiled. “Hey, Professor Murphy!” He yelled to where the teachers sat in the stands. “Dr. Critchlore! I got the flag!”
I shook my head. In one move, Rufus managed to blame the mummies for making him lose and steal the credit I deserved for finding the grotto flag.
“Blue team wins the final flag,” the announcer said. Nobody cheered, not even the blue team, which annoyed Rufus, I could tell. The rest of the team looked at me in that pitying way, as if they were saying, “Why don’t you stand up to him?”
“Professor Dunkirk knows I found the flag,” I told them. “She’ll tell Critchlore.”
At least, I hoped she would. Creak toddled over to me and pointed to Rufus. “Cheeeeaaterrrrrr.”
I nodded. “Yep. Rufus is a cheater.”
“The Red Team has been penalized two points for sportsmanlike behavior.”
—RULING AFTER THE FIND THE FLAGS COMPETITION
The next morning, Dr. Critchlore announced another Treasure Hunt competition, with a new set of teams.
Everyone huddled around the lists, talking about how much fun they’d had on their previous searches, and how exciting it had been to travel outside Stull.
I’d beaten everyone to one of the flags. Professor Dunkirk saw it. Mez told me he would tell Professor Murphy. I was sure there was no way I’d be left off a team now.
I checked the lists.
Not chosen—again.
My heart fell as I stood there. It fell and bounced off the ground and rolled down the steps and across the cemetery, until it splashed into the swamp. I felt a gaping hole in my chest where it used to be. Why hadn’t I been chosen?
I looked at the lists of names that were not me, and it hit me again. Of course I wasn’t on a list. I had to face facts—my classmates were powerful, terrifying creatures. What could I offer a search team? Sure, I could search this school—I knew it better than most—but out in the real world? I had nothing to offer.
I sighed and headed for the FRP to pick up Kumi’s food. I was so lost in my thoughts I didn’t notice them until it was too late.
The skeletons.
And their creepy skeleton dog.
Dogs are so much nicer looking when they are fully fleshed and furred.
They stood near the entrance to the Aviary, which I’d have to pass on my way to the FRP. I thought about turning around to avoid them. Cowardly? Sure. But I’d seen the short one pick up an imp and throw him into the hedge maze, just for fun. They were mean.
I saw one of them tap the leader, the short guy. Or gal. Who could tell? The tapper nodded in my direction.
It’s hard to imagine anything other than a sinister expression on a skull. Those empty eye sockets, that huge, gaping mouth. They’re creepy.
I turned to jog back to the castle, but right as I did, I was tackled, hard. A heavy body landed on top of me, shoving me into the ground.
Rufus. In his human form, blue eyes flashing with hatred. He’d been following me, and I’d turned right into him.
“Not tagging along with that lame gang of humans today?” he asked. “Like the friendless loser you are? Maybe I should do everyone a favor and eat you before I leave on my next assignment.”
“What’s your problem with me, Rufus?” I said. “I’ve never done anything to you.”
“You’re so annoying. Janet keeps saying you saved the school, but you didn’t do anything. You just luck into being in the right place at the right time.”
He shoved my chest d
own, and it felt like my ribs were breaking. “She defends you, like, all the time. I pick on lots of losers, but suddenly she’s all ‘Leave him alone,’ and ‘If you harm one hair on Runt’s head, I’ll dump you faster than you can morph.’”
She said that? Really?
“Maybe she’s trying to help you be a better person,” I said. “I’d take her advice, if I were you.”
He pulled his arm back, and I winced, because I was sure I was about to be hit. But suddenly his weight shifted off me. I opened my eyes and saw him lying on his back, surrounded by skeletons. They had their bony hands all over him.
“Hey!” Rufus shouted. “Get off me!” He struggled to get up, but the skeletons pushed him down. Sure, they had no muscles, but they were animated by a powerful spell.
With a roar, Rufus morphed into a wolf. He bit off one skeleton’s arm, and charged at another. But when he dropped the arm to bite another skeleton, the arm zipped back to its owner and reattached. Those skeletons were unstoppable! It looked like Professor Vodum had finally found some impressive minions for the school.
Two skeletons grabbed me, holding my arms. The rest were busy fighting a raving werewolf lunatic. Rufus fought free, and the two that were holding me ran to help their friends. I took that opportunity to sprint away as fast as I could.
Once I realized they weren’t chasing me, I slowed down and turned around. Bones were flying through the air, getting ripped off their owners and returning to them. It was like a snowstorm of bones.
I thought about running back to the safety of the castle, but instead, I continued on to the FRP.
Tootles could tell I was upset as I loaded up food for Kumi.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“Sure,” I said, throwing a melon onto the cart. “Just great. Everything’s great.”
“I can tell that it’s not,” he said. He pulled off a glove and grabbed my arm. “Talk to me, Runt. Please. You’re reminding me of Syke. I knew she was upset, but I gave her space, and look what it got me. I’ve lost my daughter.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m in a bad mood because I can’t do anything right, and when I finally do something good, I never get the credit.”
He nodded sympathetically and then looked over at some trees.
“Are you going to tell me another tree story now?” I asked.
“I was just going to say . . . trees don’t need to be told they’re doing a good job. They don’t need a pat on the back to keep growing and making fruit and providing shade and oxygen and doing all the wonderful things they do.”
“But I bet trees don’t get laughed at by their classmates,” I said. “I can’t walk by a group of kids without them howling at me, making fun of the fact that I was trying to turn myself into a werewolf—which I wasn’t. But looking at them, it’s hard not to think maybe I don’t belong here. It’s what Professor Murphy has been telling me too. Maybe they’re right.”
“Are you done?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have any fight left in you?”
“Sure I do,” I said. “I just don’t think it matters.”
“Do you see that pine tree?” He pointed to Mount Curiosity, where a pine tree grew out of the rocky cliff face. Its trunk twisted out of the granite and rose past the top of the cliff.
“Of course,” I said.
“That tree started in the wrong spot—away from soil and in the shade for half the day. But did it give up? No. Plants never give up. They climb and climb and climb until they reach the light. Their roots dig and dig and dig until they reach water. And now look at it! It’s glorious!”
I sighed. He was right—it was.
“Anyone looking at the rocky mountain would think, There’s no way a tree could survive there. But that tree thought, Why not?
“It’s what trees do—they fight until they can fight no more. They don’t care what people say about them. They don’t care if they were planted in the wrong spot.
“If you have any fight left in you, and you quit? Then your classmates are right, you are a loser. Keep trying, and you’ll grow.”
As I drove the food trailer past the side of the castle, another group of creatures blocked my way. This time I was happy, because it was the toddler trees. All six now. I looked at the new one, and it said, “Russssss.”
“Trees, I’m heading out to the front gate. When I come back, I’ll read to you, okay?”
“Storiesss!” they all said, hopping up and down. Tootles had been reading to them since they’d sprouted. He told me it was an important requirement in raising enchanted trees.
“I’ll be right back,” I said again, holding my hands up so that they would stay put, but of course they didn’t. They followed me down the road, which was okay because I really wanted to vent about all my frustrations, and they were good listeners.
I drove the cart slowly, and the trees walked beside it on both sides. I felt like I was in a moving forest.
“The school’s going to be empty again when everyone leaves on their special missions,” I said. “You know, I should have been picked for a team too. Don’t get me wrong, I like hanging out with you, but I wanted a chance to find the sudithium.”
I was sure they didn’t understand a thing I was saying. On the slow journey to the front gate I complained about everything—that Professor Murphy hated me, that Professor Zaida had crazy expectations of me, and that nobody would talk to me about Syke’s mother.
“And don’t get me started on Rufus, the big cheater.”
“Noooo cheat,” Googa said.
“That’s right, Googa,” I said. “We do not like cheaters.”
The rest chanted, “Nooooo cheat,” and I smiled.
We reached the gate and went through. I parked the trailer a safe distance from the gorilla and braced myself for the coming onslaught of fruit.
“I’m going to try and tempt the gorilla with this food,” I said. “He’s got to be sick of eating all those trees.”
“Eaaaaaat . . . treeeeessss?” Googa said.
Oops.
The trees huddled together, shaking.
“I meant leaves!” I said quickly. “He’s eating lots of leaves. You guys lose your leaves every winter anyway, right?”
“Noooooooo.” They continued to shake.
“Right—of course not. You’re not deciduous. Stupid Runt.” I hit my head. “Well, he only eats the leaves of trees that lose their leaves in winter. See?” I pointed to the bare trees now surrounding the ape, hoping they wouldn’t notice the discarded trunks.
I pushed the cart in front of me. We had a routine, Kumi and me. I offered food. He signed, “Where is she?” I said, “I don’t know,” and then he threw the food at me.
“Hi, Kumi,” I said. “I know you’re lonely out here, and I’m sorry about your family. I brought you some food. Those trees have got to be tasting pretty bland by now, right?”
He grunted at me.
Something about him looked different. He was sitting in his nest of ferns, but he looked smaller. No, that was ridiculous. It was probably a visual trick because the pile of tree trunks surrounding him had grown.
“Where is she?” he signed.
“She’s not here,” I said. “I’m sorry. I miss her too.”
Most times I could tell that Kumi understood what I said. Our communication problems came from me not understanding sign language. This time he used sign language that communicated his frustration perfectly. He scowled at me, knocked the cart over, and yanked a tree out of the ground.
High-pitched shrieking filled the air. I turned and saw all six trees rushing at Kumi, their branches flapping up and down in anger. They screamed and screeched. Kumi looked shocked, as anyone who had a bunch of five-foot-tall trees charging at him would. They made a sound filled with both pain and anger.
They only came up to his calves, but they kept whacking him. Kumi didn’t know what to do.
“Put the tree back!” I shouted. “You killed
their . . . their . . . cousin!”
The gorilla looked at me, eyes wide. He could have swiped them away with one swish of his arm, but he didn’t. He put the tree back, tapping the soil around the base so it would be okay.
The toddler trees stopped hitting him. They ran over to the tree and hugged its trunk.
“Thank you, Kumi,” I said.
He nodded and then reached over to the spilled fruit cart. He put a handful of melons in his mouth and crunched, then reached for another handful. The toddler trees turned to Kumi and threw some body-language glares at him before they walked back to me. I think one of them made a rude gesture with his branch.
“Don’t be mad at him,” I said. “He’s sad. He misses someone he loves.”
The trees looked back at Kumi, who nodded again. They ran over and tried to hug his leg. Kumi let out a soft grunt but didn’t move to hurt them. One of the melons slipped out of his grasp and rolled back toward me. The toddler trees all ran after it, getting tangled up in a big pile as they fought to see who could grab it first. Kumi shook with laughter. Googa brought the melon back to him, and they waited like puppies for him to throw it again.
I sat down and watched Kumi finish the food on the cart while playing fetch with the trees. He seemed to bounce with laughter each time they fought to get the melon.
When he finished eating, I said, “Come on, guys. I need to take the cart back to the FRP. You can ride in the trailer this time.”
“Stayyyyyy!” they screeched.
“Is that okay with you, Kumi?”
Kumi nodded. It almost looked like he smiled a little bit.
“Okay, stay. See you later!”
“Byyyyye, Ruuuuuunth.”
“They must be read to every day. You simply cannot expect your forest to be enchanting if the trees haven’t been told many stories. The greater the variety, the better.”
—PLANTING AN ENCHANTED FOREST FOR DUMMIES
I rode back happy that Kumi had made some friends, because he always seemed so lonely sitting in the ferns. But my happiness was short-lived. As I rode toward the castle, I couldn’t help but realize that I’d be leaving the school soon. I’d never get on a search team, and if I didn’t, I’d never find any sudithium, which was the only way I was going to pass Professor Murphy’s class. And as soon as I failed his class, Professor Zaida was going to take me away.