“I get hungry,” Carter said. “Especially when I get scared. Not that there’s much good stuff left.” He stared sadly into the bag. “Seriously, what kind of demented person hands out Bit-O-Honeys?”
Just as Grandma Elisheba had promised, as soon as the boys were inside the fence, the black cat slid between the metal bars and led the way deeper into the cemetery. The old woman appeared to be right about the black salt as well. Although the ghosts followed the boys as they wound around headstones and between graves, none of them came close enough to cause any trouble.
“Who do you think this Baron Cemetier is?” Nick whispered to Angelo. Even though there was no one around to overhear him except for the ghosts, he found himself keeping his voice low. “Maybe he works here or something?”
Angelo took off his glasses and rubbed them on the front of his shirt. “She said to be sure to pour a closed circle of black salt around us before summoning him,” he said. “Last time I checked, you don’t have to protect yourself from cemetery workers.”
Lost in thought, Nick, Angelo, and Carter trooped silently behind the cat until at last it stopped before a crackled angel statue that looked like a strong wind might blow it to pieces. As soon as the cat reached the statue, it leaped onto the stone pedestal and curled up at the base of the angel.
“I guess this is the place,” Nick said.
“Meow.” The cat licked a paw and scrubbed the back of its head.
Carter frowned. “I don’t like that cat. It always looks like it’s laughing at us.”
“Squeeze together,” Angelo said. “There’s not much of this salt, and Grandma Elisheba said we all have to stand completely inside the circle.” Holding the silk bag so only a few dark crystals could spill out at a time, Angelo carefully poured a circle in the short grass. By the time he had finished, the bag was nearly empty.
“Doesn’t look like much,” Carter said when the circle was complete.
Nick had to agree. If the Baron Cemetier was some kind of monster, he didn’t like the idea of being protected by nothing more than a line of salt so thin it was nearly impossible to see in the dark night.
“It will have to do,” Angelo said. He tucked the bag into his pocket and stepped inside the circle. There was barely enough room to stand side by side.
“Would you like me to do the summoning?” Angelo asked.
Nick shook his head. Compared to the elaborate ceremony required to make the mojo hand, summoning the Baron was nothing. Still, he found his voice trembling when he opened his mouth and said, “Baron Cemetier, come forth. Baron Cemetier, come forth. Baron Cemetier, come forth.”
The last word had barely left his lips when the angel began shaking violently. Bits of stone flaked off the statue, peppering the cat’s fur.
“I don’t see any—” Nick started to say. The rest of his words froze in his mouth. A second before, he had been looking at a row of headstones in the distance. Now his view was blocked by an impossibly tall figure in black pants, a long black suit coat that came nearly to its knees, and a tall black hat with a red feather sticking up out of the band.
The figure was facing away from them, and for a moment it didn’t seem aware they were even there. Then, slowly, it turned. A man, tall enough to be an NBA basketball player, gripped a long silver blade with a white handle. His face was covered with shaving cream, as though he had been standing before the bathroom mirror a moment before. But what was so terrifying that Nick found himself pressing tightly against his friends, was that beneath the open coat of its tuxedo jacket, the creature was nothing but bones. The hand clutching the straight razor didn’t have a single shred of flesh on its fingers. And the eyes staring at them from above the shaving cream were really just empty sockets.
“Well, well, what do we have here?” the skeleton said, wiping the shaving cream from its razor on one of its pant legs.
Nick tried to speak, but his tongue refused to unstick itself from the roof of his mouth.
“A-a-are y-you the B-baron C-c-c-c…” Angelo’s voice was shaking so badly, he couldn’t get out the last word, but Nick thought the very fact that he’d even tried was the bravest thing he’d ever seen.
“I am the Baron Cemetier, also known as Baron Samedi, Baron La Croix, and Lord of the Graveyard.”
Samedi, Nick thought. Where have I heard that name before?
The skeleton’s teeth widened a little in what Nick thought might have been a grin. It ran a bone hand over its face and the shaving cream vanished, leaving a gleaming white skull behind. “You know who I am, but I’m afraid I haven’t made your acquaintance.” It closed the straight razor with a wicked snap, tucked it inside its jacket pocket, and held out a hand.
Despite his terror, Nick found himself drawn forward, his hand rising to meet the Baron’s skeletal grip. Before he could take a step toward the creature, a pair of hands grabbed him from behind.
“Careful,” Angelo said.
Nick looked down. His foot hovered just above the thin line of the black circle.
The Baron Cemetier roared with laughter, his jawbones clicking against each other with a horrifying tick-tick-tick. A shiny black beetle dropped from between the skeleton’s teeth and scurried into the grass.
“Someone has taught you well,” the Baron said. Despite showing no sign of a tongue, throat, or larynx, his voice was deep and full. “However, if you are too rude to shake my hand, I’m afraid I have other business to attend to.”
“Wait!” Nick called as the Baron began to turn away from him. The empty black sockets fixed once more on his face, and he felt the spit in his mouth turn to dust. “We, that is, I, need you to help me find the Zombie King.”
“We all do,” Carter said, clutching the sleeve of Nick’s jacket so tightly his fingers were white. “We’re in this together.”
“That’s right,” Angelo said, standing shoulder to shoulder with Nick.
The skull swung its gaze slowly across the boys, taking each of them in, one at a time. “The Zombie King,” the Baron said. He pointed a long white finger bone directly at Nick and Nick felt his insides turn to ice. “Do you three children have any idea what you are asking? The Zombie King is far more dangerous than you can imagine.”
Nick reached into his pocket, brushing his finger over his aunt’s gold pot tet before pulling out the amulet. “I need to return this to him.”
The Baron’s head snapped around at the sight of the glimmering red stone. “Let me see that.”
“See with your eyes, not your hands,” Carter said. Under his breath he whispered, “If you even have any eyes.”
The Baron’s mouth slammed shut, his teeth grinding together like rocks in a blender. “Give it to me and I will see that the Zombie King gets it.”
Nick shook his head. “We have to give it to him ourselves.” Isabelle purred loudly and Nick got the impression that the cat was telling him he was doing well.
When the Baron spoke again, his voice was smooth and eerily calm. “So you wish to meet the Zombie King on your own, hmm? Very well. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“You’ll take us there?” Nick asked.
The skeleton reached up and ran its hard white fingers over the feather in its hat. “For a price. What do you offer me in trade?”
Nick, Angelo, and Carter looked at each other in surprise. The old woman hadn’t said anything about a price. Nick checked his pockets. The only thing in them was the metal bottle, and he couldn’t give away his great-aunt’s spirit. Except for his monster notebook, Angelo had left everything in his pack on the other side of the fence. They didn’t even have their bikes, not that Nick could imagine a skeleton wanting those.
“We don’t have anything to trade,” Nick said.
“Then I’m afraid I can’t help you.” With a flash, the Baron disappeared, taking with him all hope of breaking Nick’s curse.
“Hang on!” Carter dug into his pockets and pulled out a handful of change. He quickly sorted through the coins. �
��I’ve got a dollar and thirty-two cents. Although I think this quarter is actually Canadian.”
The air around where the Baron had disappeared wavered ever so slightly. “I have no need of mortal currency,” his disembodied voice said.
Angelo took off his watch. “This works up to fifty feet underwater.”
“Junk,” the voice said.
Nick thought furiously. Samedi. Why was that name so familiar? Then he remembered. The book on his aunt’s desk—the one he’d been reading before the cat scared him. There had been something in it about a skeleton named Samedi. It said he had…
“Your trick-or-treat bag,” he said, spinning around to look at Carter. “Do you still have it?”
Carter glanced down at his plastic bag, hanging limp and nearly empty. “You want a piece of candy? I thought you didn’t like it now.”
“Not me,” Nick said. “Him.” He pointed at the spot where the Baron Cemetier had been. “My aunt had a book in her basement. It said Samedi has an insatiable sweet tooth. Offer him some of the candy from your bag.”
“Candy?” The air wavered again, and like a film coming slowly into focus, the Baron Cemetier reappeared. “Sweets?”
“Sure.” Carter nodded, catching on. “Really sweet sweets. I, um, saved the best for last.”
The Baron solidified and leaned toward the boys. “Show me.”
Carter dug around the bottom of his Halloween bag. He pulled out several empty candy wrappers before finding a roll of Necco Wafers. “These are awesome. Best candy ever.”
Nick smiled, knowing Carter hated Necco wafers and tried to trade them to his younger sisters for whatever he could get.
The Baron held out his hand and Carter tossed him the candy, making sure not to leave the circle. The skeleton caught the roll. He unwrapped the plastic and placed a wafer into his mouth.
“Bland,” he said a second later. “What else do you possess?”
Carter fished around in the bag again and brought out a vanilla Tootsie Roll.
The Baron waved it away before Carter could even offer it to him. “Clearly inferior.”
Carter pulled out a half-eaten caramel corn ball, but Nick shook his head. “It’s all garbage,” Carter whispered. “I finished the good stuff days ago.”
“Hey, what’s this?” Angelo reached into the bag and pulled out a miniature Snickers.
Carter grabbed the candy bar. “I was saving that.”
Angelo glared at him.
“Fine!” Carter huffed. He held out the candy. “Here. It’s chocolate, nougat, and peanuts.”
The Baron shook his head. “Nuts hurt my teeth.”
“There’s nothing else,” Carter said. He turned over the bag and dumped the last of his candy onto the ground. Nick had no idea there was so much tasteless candy in existence. Stale gummy bears, wax lips, black licorice chews, two sucked-on jawbreakers, three Bit-O-Honeys, and an oatmeal-raisin bar.
“There,” the Baron called, pointing to the ground near the edge of the circle. “What are those?”
Nick followed his gaze. The only things he saw were a few candy corns. “These?” he asked, picking up the orange, yellow, and white kernels.
“Yes!” The skeleton chomped its teeth excitedly. “I’ve never seen sweets quite like those before. They’re so…colorful.”
Carter rolled his eyes and took the candy from Nick. “You have excellent taste.”
The Baron snapped his hands open and closed, finger bones rattling. Carter tossed him the candy corns.
The Baron Cemetier caught the candies in midair and, like a gourmet sampling a rare dish, delicately placed one of them into his mouth. He nodded his head. “Yes-s-s.” He popped his jaws open and closed, as if he were smacking his nonexistent lips. “This is simply…scrumptious.”
Who would have guessed that a skeleton could like candy? And even weirder, that candy corn would be his favorite? As far as Nick was concerned, candy corns were like black jelly beans at Easter. You either ate them last, when you had nothing left, or found one of the few kids that liked them and traded them away. He watched as the skeleton put another candy corn in his mouth. “So you’ll take us to the Zombie King?”
The Baron held up one finger as he ate another candy corn. Then another. And finally the last one. “More,” he said, holding out a hard white palm.
“That’s it,” Carter said. “You ate them all.”
The skeleton turned its hollow eye sockets in his direction. “I will have more.”
Carter gulped, shrinking under the Baron’s withering stare. “There are no more.”
The space around the Baron Cemetier darkened and the skeleton grew taller and taller, until the top of its hat was nearly even with the treetops. Although there were no clouds in the sky, lightning flashed and the ground rumbled. “I am the Lord of the Graveyard. You will obey me or you will never leave here alive!”
Angelo shook his head silently. What could they do? Carter knelt to the ground, sorting through empty wrappers and spilled Necco Wafers. But there had only been a few candy corns to begin with and it was clear the skeleton had eaten them all.
Isabelle, who had been watching everything from her perch on the stone pedestal, leaped to the ground. Nick thought the cat was trying to escape, until she pounced on something in the grass and batted it to him. He reached down and picked up a candy corn.
A second later the cat discovered another, and another. Soon Nick held all five candies again. “Where did these come from?” he asked, wondering if the cat was somehow magic.
Angelo’s normally serious face broke into a knowing smile. “The Baron is a skeleton. He doesn’t have a throat or stomach. The candies fell right through him.”
Nick beamed. Of course! “Here,” he said, holding open his palm. “Have some more.”
The Baron shrank to his normal size and the lightning disappeared from the sky. Nick threw him the candies and the Lord of the Graveyard ate them one by one. Every time he placed a candy corn into his mouth, it dropped straight through his body—occasionally bouncing off a rib or a long, pale leg bone. As the candies hit the ground, Isabelle found them and batted them back to Nick.
Nick continued tossing the candies to the Baron, wondering if a skeleton could ever get full since it had nothing to fill. At last though, the Baron placed a final candy between his perfect white teeth and sighed. “I couldn’t eat one more bite,” he groaned, rubbing the spot where his stomach would have been if he had one.
Nick sighed too. It had begun to feel like they would be here all night. “Now will you send us to the Zombie King?”
The Baron brushed a bit of dust from one of his sleeves, took off his top hat, and straightened the jaunty red feather. “Are you sure that’s what you want? I can take you to the Zombie King’s realm, but you’ll have to find your own way out.”
Something in the skeleton’s voice brought goose bumps to the backs of Nick’s arms. “You still want to do this?” he whispered. Both of his friends nodded, although Carter’s chin trembled visibly.
“Very well.” The Baron Cemetier lifted his arms wide. The sleeves of his coat flapped like the wings of a huge bat. He opened his mouth and said something Nick couldn’t understand. A cold wind raced across the graveyard. All around the cemetery bits of dirt and grass exploded from the ground.
The ghosts, who had been watching from a safe distance, disappeared back into their graves. The earth tilted under Nick’s feet and he stumbled toward the edge of the circle. With a crack of splintering stone, the already battered angel statue snapped off its pedestal and tilted dangerously forward.
Nick realized it was falling straight toward where Carter was standing. With no time to shout out a warning, he dove at his friend. In the same moment that he collided with Carter, shoving him out of the way, something heavy crashed down on Nick’s back and slammed him into the ground. Lights flashed. He wasn’t sure if they were from lightning or if they only existed in his head. Suddenly everything went black.
“Can you hear me?” Carter’s voice pulled Nick from a woozy unconsciousness.
“Give him room,” Angelo’s voice said. “Don’t crowd him.”
Nick managed to lift one of his eyelids. “What happened?” he groaned. His voice sounded croaky and his whole body ached.
Carter’s face appeared in front of Nick’s open eye. “You saved my life, dude. And got kind of smushed.”
Angelo shoved Carter out of the way and peered down at Nick. “How do you feel?”
Nick reached up to touch his face and pried open his other eye. “Like Frankenstein used me for a trampoline. And I mean the monster, not the bully.”
“Frankenstein was actually the name of the doctor who created the monster,” Angelo said.
“Him, too.” Nick licked his lips. His tongue felt like a block of hard, dry wood. Propping his hands on the ground, he pushed himself into a sitting position. Something creaked in his back and his right leg felt oddly twisted. Looking around, he saw the flat graveyard grass had been replaced by a gray, rocky landscape. “Where are we?”
Carter and Angelo turned and together stared into the distance—their faces more worried than Nick had ever seen them. Twisting his stiff neck, he saw what had drawn their attention. The dull gray land around them looked like something you’d see on the moon—flat expanses of rock and dirt without a single tree or bush to break things up. Two or three miles away though, the ground rose steeply to a towering stone bluff.
At the edge of the cliff, a black castle that looked straight out of an especially bad nightmare overlooked the valley floor. Windows flickered with red and orange light that made the castle appear to be on fire. Black spires stabbed the air like jagged blades. Even from this distance, he could see stooped figures shambling down the winding road toward the castle gate.
“I guess those guys walking around aren’t there to offer free video game tokens and beach towels,” Nick said, trying to lighten the mood. Not even Carter laughed at his lame attempt at a joke.
Case File 13 Page 14