ZACHARY PILL
With Dragon Fear
Written by
“Maine’s Other Author”TM
Tim Greaton
ALSO BY TIM GREATON
From Focus House Publishing
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Zachary Pill
With Dragon Fear
(Book 2 in The Zachary Pill series)
TIM GREATON
This is a work of fiction. The names and the characters are fictional. Any resemblance to living or dead individuals or to actual places or events is purely coincidental.
ZACHARY PILL, WITH DRAGON FEAR
Copyright 2012 by Tim Greaton.
The Zachary Pill (series) Copyright 2011 by Tim Greaton
Published by Focus House Publishing
Smashwords Edition
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, including digital or audio sampling, internet display or download, or any other form of digital or physical display or transfer, excepting only brief excerpts for use in a literary review, without expressed written permission from the author. Original species, realms, and mechanisms of magic are all under the exclusive ownership of the author.
“Maine’s Other Author”™ is a trademark of Focus House Publishing.
eISBN 978-1-4524-3427-8
Published by Focus House Publishing.
Cover design by Wizards Prism Art & Media.
Zachary Pill
With Dragon Fear
(Book 2 in The Zachary Pill series)
TIM GREATON
Focus House Publishing
Wilton, Maine
DEDICATION
To Joan my beautiful wife and to my three amazing children, who were all so patient during my thousands of writing hours, I can barely find words to express my love and thanks. To William Washington Greaton Jr., my dad:
Though more than a decade has passed since you were forced to leave us, not a day goes by when I don’t thank you for…well, everything.
This one’s for you, Dad. You were right. I did it.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
To my sister Tiffany—of all the amazing people in my writing life, you have been the one I could always depend on to help me shape reshape worlds. I appreciate that you’re always there and know that my work is so much better because of it.
To the Saco Middle School of Saco, Maine and its Literary Specialist Patricia Martin-Evans—Thanks for introducing me to the four students who became my central focus group.
And to those four (now much-older) students, Tyler Cadorette, Maggie Evans, Abby Farrington, and Andrew Lemoine—Thank you so much for your feedback which has made the entire first Zachary Pill Trilogy dramatically better. I would not be surprised to find a novelist or four emerge from within your very talented ranks.
CONTENTS
11) Nightmares and a Water Golem
18) Golden Rope to Orc Repellent
Zachary Pill
With Dragon Fear
“Take that!” he heard someone say. “And that!”
Gerald!
Zachary’s eyes shot toward the window where the slumber guard had pushed most of his plants out of the way. Sitting up, he found most of his leaf- and flower-filled shoots strewn across his bedroom floor with their clay pots scattered and broken. He knew they needed his help, but the greater priority was outside. He hurried to the slumber guard’s side to see Gerald standing on his catwalk with what looked to be a toy gun in his hands. Over his head, hundreds of bats swarmed like bees, and every few seconds one would dive toward his head.
“How do you like that?” Gerald blurted. A dark mass shot from his orange rifle and struck the nearest creature in the face. The bat squeaked, tumbled backwards for a moment then fluttered awkwardly up to rejoin its swarming brethren.
Terrified, Zachary tried to think.
Gerald needed him, but how could he go out there knowing that bats had driven him and his father from Boston, knowing that just showing his face outside might be all Krage needed to confirm his location?
Once again it came down to his safety versus the safety of his friends and neighbors. Feeling as much a coward as at any previous time in his life, Zachary quelled the flips his stomach was making and decided. He snatched the basically useless magic wand out of the closet and turned to entice the slumber guard to come with him. He need not have bothered, however, because the alligator was slithering right behind him. Together, they hurried across Madame Kloochie’s dining room, through the swinging kitchen door, and out the back.
Zachary watched the paper flutter down to the floor where the vicious golden-red dragon image faded, leaving nothing but a blank sheet. He wanted to warn Bret not to touch any of the pictures but his mouth wouldn’t work. He felt as though a pump was forcing air through his ears, and the growing pressure inside his skull made him dizzy. His arms felt heavy and wouldn’t respond.
Distantly, he heard Bret say, “Ar-Are you okay?”
Within moments, the pressure in Zachary’s skull had grown into a full-fledged headache. He wanted to ask for help, but couldn’t move. Helpless, he could only watch as Bret stared back at him.
“Z-Zach. Zach?”
Zachary couldn’t answer, couldn’t even blink. His forehead throbbed and the tops of his shoulders began to burn. He tried again to speak but his jaw was locked in place. Had he turned to stone?
“Wh-What’s wrong?” Bret asked. “C-Can’t you t-t-talk?”
Unable to respond in any other way, Zachary shifted his eyes downward toward his pinky. Bret’s blue eyes followed his gaze and grew larger at the bite marks that they saw.
“It-It bit you!” Bret exclaimed. “I-I’ll get Madame Kloochie!”
By that time, Zachary’s burning shoulders had begun to itch as though being assailed by a thousand biting mosquitoes. Between that and his pounding head, he didn’t think he could stand much more. Bret had already gone. Rustling and banging noises coming from the dining room mingled with animal sounds on the floor all around him. How was it possible for pictures to be alive?
If only my Dad taught me more about magic!
He heard cabinets banging and drawers sliding in the next rooms. What was Madame Kloochie doing? Moments after the noise stopped, the big woman stomped into his room, strode past him and shoved him from behind.
Like an off balance statue, his body tipped forward. He imagined his face smashing into the floor—or worse, onto one of the biting snarling creature pictures—and tried unsuccessfully to close his frozen eyes as his body tilted onto the rigid tips of his sneakers. Zachary mentally braced himself for the coming pain.
Why was she doing this to him?
“Don’t be so clumsy!” Madame Kloochie barked as she yanked him backwards and upright.
Suddenly, Zachary felt better, much better. Both his headache and the itching had disappeared. His arms and legs were flexible again. He could even wiggle his toes.
“A dragon picture bit me!” he gasped.
Madame Kloochie spun him around and grabbed his hand to squint at his pinky.
“It’s just a paper cut,” she said.
“I never heard of paper coming alive to do the job,” Zachary countered. He shook his arms and bent down to rub his legs. Everything seemed to be working.
Madame Kloochie’s eyes swept across the room, pausing momentarily on his father’s box and the still moving creature pictures spread across the floor.
“Nothing but trouble,” she said. “You’d be best off to throw all this crap right in the trash.” She pointed to the cloth bag of marbles on his bed. “And those little buggers are sure to be trouble. I’d toss every last one of them into the river.”
“You know what’s in the bag?” Zachary asked, not sure if he should be angry at her for snooping or curious about what she knew.
“I don’t have time for this,” Madame Kloochie huffed as she tramped from his room.
Zachary thought he heard one of the pictures grunt as her heel struck it on her way out. Bret offered to help pick up the pictures, but Zachary could see his friend’s hand tremble as he reached for the first one.
“Let me do it,” he said to Bret, not wanting to put his friend in danger. Besides, it didn’t take long to gather up the picture sheets. Though many of the two-dimensional creatures hissed or growled, only a few lashed out with tiny paws or fangs, and he was easily able to avoid them by lifting each page by the corners. Soon he had the sheets stacked safely back into a pile.
“I think that’s enough fun for one day.” Zachary sucked a tiny bit of blood from the tip of his pinky.
“Yeah, I should probably get home before my parents call,” Bret said.
His friend’s stutter was gone once again, which Zachary took as a good sign.
In just a couple of minutes, the boys had returned everything to his father’s box so that Zachary could slide it back into the closet and close the door.
“You okay?” he asked Bret.
Bret friend smiled. “Yeah, I’m alright but I am kind of hungry for instant noodles.”
Just the thought of noodles reminded Zachary of the worm-filled spaghetti from Boston. That wasn’t a meal he ever intended to repeat.
“See you tomorrow,” Bret said.
After his friend left, Zachary cleaned Madame Kloochie’s evening mess, including the chocolate frosting she had smeared on the refrigerator and the jelly she had somehow gotten on the dining room ceiling. The whole time his finger ached. Though not deep, the tiny dragon bite was surprisingly painful. He finished up his day watering plants and pruned several leaves from a large peace lily he’d had since he was eight years old. Though he’d tried several locations, it still seemed to be getting too much light so he moved it to the top of his bureau, the side furthest from the window.
Too tired to change into pajamas, Zachary settled down onto his bed fully clothed and reached under his pillow for Robin’s picture. Even his throbbing finger couldn’t keep him from falling almost immediately to sleep…a sleep filled with horrible dreams…
From his perch atop the mountain, Zachary could see several creatures moving in the stormy green ocean below him. His studied their sleek movements and determined none were large enough to make a satisfying meal. Sniffing, he recognized the musk of something better, something bigger. He inhaled again and listened for the telltale sounds of claws scrabbling along the cliff face below him. At first he thought he might have been mistaken, but then he heard it again, several hundred feet beneath him. His stomach rumbling in anticipation, he spread his wings, leapt out and dove! Zachary rushed downward and saw his prey clinging to the mountainside. Fire shot from his lips and singed the creature’s black fur just before his claws ripped its shrieking form from the cliff. It was still screaming when his fangs pierced succulent warm flesh—
Horrified, Zachary struggled to wake! But instead the scene changed…
He was standing in a wide tunnel facing hundreds of dirty creatures with blue skin and bloated bodies. Though shorter than him, they had stout muscular physiques, and they held massive clubs and axes in thick grips. At any moment, he knew the trolls would attack. Unafraid, he opened his jaws and spewed fire at the first dozen—
Zachary jolted awake! Moonlight trickled through his plants in front of the window and left patches of light on the walls and ceiling. He could hear Madame Kloochie’s steady snoring from two rooms away. The horrible dreams faded as he lay there with his blanket pulled up around his chin. The clock on his bureau claimed it was four o’clock in the morning. He held his wounded finger up in the moonlight, but in the dimness couldn’t see any evidence that the golden-red dragon had bitten him at all. He gently rubbed his thumb across the injury.
It doesn’t hurt!
Had he imagined the whole thing?
Suddenly, the memory of biting into that poor animal filled his mind. He could still taste its burnt flesh! The thought made him gag. No, those dreams came from someplace, and he felt certain the dragon bite was to blame.
Desperate to get that aftertaste out of his mouth, he sat up, rubbed his cheeks and ran fingers through his green locks. Forcing himself to his feet, he gathered fresh clothes and hurried through the dark house to the bathroom where he kicked enough of Madame Kloochie’s dirty laundry away to make room in front of the sink. After brushing his teeth and rinsing his mouth twice, he started to undress. First went his tee shirt, then his sneakers and socks, and finally Zachary stripped off his pants—
Pressure rushed into his skull!
Gasping, he recognized the pain from the dragon bite the day before. It grew more agonizing with every passing second. The fiery itch was also back and spreading across his shoulders like a thousand biting ants. He wanted to scratch, but more desperately needed the pain in his head to end. He had to do something!
Preparing to run for help, he yanked his pants up―
And the pain stopped. The itch also disappeared.
Relieved, Zachary splashed cold water on his face and shoulders. Something about his reflection caught his eye. Confused, he leaned into the mirror and saw a golden-red color staining his shoulders. When he tapped the discolored area, it thumped like wood.
Wood?
He ran fingers from his bare chest to his collarbone. Somewhere near his neck the skin grew stiff and hard. Zachary tapped again and prodded for several minutes, but he couldn’t find a seam. The hard covering blended right into his skin. He rubbed the textured surface and tried to remember why it felt so familiar. Then it came to him. His shoulders felt like the slumber guard’s hide! He must have caught a disease from the alligator the night the bats had attacked in Boston. Horrified, he wondered if that meant he, too, might turn hollow and half-dead. He thumped his shoulder again and shivered at the prospect. Staring at his discolored flesh, it made sense: the hard crust, the texture, everything but the color—
Zachary’s breath caught.
He knew where he had seen that color before. It was an image that would stay with him for a very long time. His shoulders had the same hues as the dragon from the picture. He hadn’t caught a disease from the slumber guard. No, he had contracted toxin the old fashioned way: through a bite―a paper dragon’s bite!
Forgetting the shower, Zachary yanked on a fresh tee shirt. He had to see Bret. He didn’t want to believe he was turning into a dragon but the nightmares from earlier supported his theory. He remembered the poor cliffhanging creature from his dreams, and the way he had scorched and crunched it down like a chicken dinner. His stomach roiled at the thought. He couldn’t let this happen. He had to do something—fast!
He stripped his pants down, and pain burst like a fire hose into his head! Doubling over with the ferocity of it, he struggled to breathe as his shoulders broke into a blazing itch. Zachary yanked his pants back up.
The agony stopped.
Slowly, he let the jeans fall again. Excruciating pressure swelled his skull. He pulled them up, and the distress ended. Knowing he couldn’t survive many more experiments, he came to a silly but obviously true conclusion: his blue jeans were magic. But who ever heard of magic jeans? And why would they have become magic all of the sudden? He had worn the same jeans dozens of times.
No, there had to be another explanation.
He groped around and discovered a lump in his back pocket, a pocket he never used. Reaching in, he drew out a black disc embossed with the image of an old man in flowing robes. The man leaned heavily on a staff and seemed to be standing against a hurricane wind. The image was so detailed that Zachary could see individual hairs on the old man’s beard. He flipped the medallion over and found the exact same view only from the back. The metal loop on top suggested the disc was meant to be hung from a chain. So how had it gotten into his pocket?
The answer was obvious: Madame Kloochie. She must have slipped it into his pocket after the dragon bit him, likely when she accidentally shoved him from behind. He flipped the coin over several times. Apparently it warded only against pain because it hadn’t stopped dragon scales from forming on his shoulders. And that probably also meant it would not keep him from turning the rest of the way into the fire-breathing monster from his dreams. Closing his hand around the medallion, he tried to force the nightmare of that midnight snack from his mind. But he could still hear the helpless creature’s screams and taste its charred flesh as he crunched its bones―
He had to do something!
Zachary finished changing then hurried to the living room where Madame Kloochie was just sitting up. Her hair, newly died purple, was matted down on one side like a damaged helmet, and drool had caused one corner of her thickly applied red lipstick to run like tomato sauce down her chin.
“Did you put this in my pocket?” He held up the medallion.
“Why would I do something like that?” she asked, a mocking grin curling her thick lips.
“Look what happened to me.” Zachary leaned down and pulled the collar of his tee shirt back so she could see the golden scales. He tapped on them, letting the hollow rapping further make his point.
Madame Kloochie shrugged. “Could be worse.”
“Worse than turning into a dragon?”
Suddenly, her face contorted in anger.
“You’ve no idea what could be worse! Try skin like crust, immovable limbs, thoughts so slow they might not exist at all!”
Zachary backed into the dining room. Though always borderline insane, she wasn’t usually quite so over-the-top angry. Then, as though nothing had happened, Madame Kloochie’s fury melted away. Calmly, she used her remote to change the TV from news to a cartoon.
“You’re planning on opening the store on time, I hope,” she said.
“Sure,” Zachary told her and returned to his room.
Even though she had to be the one who had slipped the wizard’s disc into his pocket, she obviously didn’t intend to talk about it. Sitting on his bed, he threaded a heavy string through the medallion’s loop then draped the resulting necklace around his neck. He paused to examine the old man on the pendant again.
Somehow the wizard had moved and now held his staff above his head!
Was it safe to wear? What if the tiny geezer tried to poke him with his staff, or worse? Knowing the alternative would be to have his head explode with pain again, Zachary sighed and let the amulet fall beneath his shirt. It wasn’t as though he had any choice.
“I’m going to Bret’s for a few minutes,” Zachary said as he hurried through the dining room.
Thinking Madame Kloochie wouldn’t be ready so early, he was surprised when her right arm snapped back and hurled something straight at his head! Zachary ducked and expected dough and frosting to strike the wall beside him. Instead, he heard only a deep belly laugh. Confused, he looked over at the couch.
“You thought I shot something,” Madame Kloochie managed to breathe between bursts of laughter. “You really thought I threw a rocket.” She was laughing so hard Zachary had to smile. For the first time since arriving in New Hampshire, he thought he might learn to like this woman whose moods were as volatile as Boston weather.
Zachary hurried out the door, down the stairs, and across the street. Along the way, he wondered how long it would be before he started to grow wings. He shivered with the realization that his time might be running out.
He came up short at the sight of both Volvos parked in Bret’s driveway. The sun was just coming up and his friend’s parents were both there. Before he could figure out his next move, his scrawny friend opened the door and slipped out onto the porch. Already, he had on his trademark button-up shirt and slacks, but only brown dress socks adorned his feet.
“I saw you out the window.”
Meeting his friend on the porch, Zachary nodded and pulled back his tee shirt collar. He rapped on the golden-red scales.
“Whoa!”
“D-D’you ask M-Madame Kloochie about that?” Bret asked.
Zachary nodded. “If she knows anything, she’s not saying.”
Bret moved to the stairs and sat down on the top one. “Wh-What are you th-th-thinking?”
“I’m thinking I need to find a cure for dragon poison before I start eating pets.” He wanted to smile but couldn’t force the expression. Apparently, there was little humor in becoming a monster.
“Y-You need a doctor!”
Zachary had already thought of that. “I can’t imagine someone like your mother or father being able to help.”
“Wh-What about the doctor you already s-s-saw?” Bret pointed at his cast.
“No way! Doctor Gefarg is the one that told Krage how to find us in Boston. I don’t need him finding out where I am again.”
“But he knows about magic, right?”
Zachary nodded.
“M-Maybe you can call him th-th-through that little c-c-coffin.”
“You stutter when you’re upset, you know,” Zachary said.
“Are y-you going to ask M-M-Medusa?”
“If it will get rid of these shoulder pads,” Zachary said, “you bet I am.”
He hurried back across the street and up the stairs. By the time he grabbed his father’s U-Ghoul unit, dodged a maple donut and rushed downstairs to open Madame Kloochie’s Store, Bret was already waiting at the front door, a grim look on his face.
“What about your parents?” Zachary asked as he let Bret into the store.
“They didn’t get in till early,” Bret said. “I doubt they’ll wake up before noon.”
Zachary led Bret to the back of the store between a bureau with a missing drawer and a pool table lacking cloth on the top. Before opening the casket lid, Zachary waited for Bret to take several steps back. Though seeing Medusa the last time might not have put him in the hospital, that didn’t make it wise for him to get too close. As always, the snake-haired woman and the disgusting ghoulish hands were there to greet Zachary as he settled into the U-Ghoul’s seat.
“You have seven thousand and twenty-two messages,” the olive-skinned lady said. “All are from His Lordship Ker Sevikrage. There are no messages from Roger Penbolt Pill, Francis Neddleson Pill, or anyone else.”
Zachary heart sank as it did every time he talked with her. No news meant that his father and maybe even his uncle could be locked in a life or death struggle with Krage or worse. Instant anger fueled Zachary’s desire to know more about magic. He would have carried the fight to Krage if he had any idea how to do it.
“Zachary Roger Pill,” Medusa said coolly, “I assume you do not want to review your new messages.”
“No,” Zachary said, shaking his head, “but I need to contact someone. Can I do that?”
“Yes,” Medusa said. “You simply need to summon the person you want to reach. As long as that person is in our U-Ghoul data core and near a U-Ghoul unit, I can put the communication through. If he or she is not available, you will then be able to leave a smoke impression.”
“A smoke impression?”
“A message,” Medusa said.
“And I can talk the same way I’m talking to you,” Zachary said.
Medusa nodded. “My image will disappear so that you can converse unobstructed.”
“But you’ll be listening?” Zachary asked.
“The U-Ghoul system hears everything,” Medusa acknowledged. Most of her snakes also nodded in agreement. “But your Deluxe Privacy Package ensures that all information will remain confidential. Who would you like to summon?”
“Doctor Gefarg,” Zachary said. “Is he in your system?”
“Of course,” Medusa said. Her eyes turned momentarily white. “Doctor Bullwark Boffal Gefarg does not list a personal portal, but I can connect you to the main portal at the Chicago Enclave Clinic.”
“Fine,” Zachary said, anxious to find a cure for the dragon venom.
Medusa, true to her word, disappeared to be replaced by a bizarre woman with a third eye in her forehead. “Chicago Enclave Clinic,” she said. “Oh. Hi, Zachary.”
Zachary knew he should have recognized her. There was something about her mouth and her hair—then he suddenly made the connection. It was Nurse Nightshade, but with three eyes! She also seemed much larger against the U-Ghoul’s smoky backdrop than he remembered her. Had Doctor Gefarg done something hideous to her?
“You look surprised,” Nurse Nightshade said. “Since you’re using the U-Ghoul system, I assume you’ve learned more about your magical roots. But your expression suggests you didn’t know our clinic is under a camouflage spell. Though most of us are not human, we have to look as if we are to avoid problems with the locals. What you’re seeing now is my true nature.”
“Sorry, I didn’t know,” Zachary said.
She smiled and—three eyes or not—seemed as friendly as before. “I assume you’d like an appointment to remove your cast?”
Zachary shook his head. Nurse Nightshade’s upper eye winked or blinked at him.
“I…uh…I was hoping to talk with Doctor Gefarg about something else.”
Nurse Nightshade’s expression grew serious.
“Probably not a good idea,” she whispered, leaning forward. “I suggest you talk with your father first.”
“My dad’s missing!” Zachary blurted.
“I knew something wasn’t right during your last visit,” she said. All three of her eyes were squinted in anger. “I take it Ker Sevikrage found you?”
Zachary nodded. “Bats attacked the night we got back from the clinic. My dad went after Krage. I’m stuck living with―”
“Shhh!” Nurse Nightshade said. “Don’t announce your location. It’s bad enough Doctor Gefarg can probably figure it out by reviewing this impression.”
“I have a big problem,” Zachary said. “I didn’t know who else to ask but Doctor Gefarg.”
“I’m not a doctor,” Nurse Nightshade said, “but we nurses run everything around here anyway. Maybe I can help?”
Zachary nodded and went through a brief description of getting bit by the dragon picture, having Madame Kloochie slip a magical disc into his pocket and the scales that had grown across his shoulders. He didn’t bother to add anything about the horrible dragon dream that had seemed so real. Zachary gasped as two right hands came up to Nurse Nightshade’s face. One pinched her lip while the other scratched her head. She had more than two arms!
Nurse Nightshade either didn’t notice his reaction or chose to ignore it. Either way, she said, “I think you need to summon Larzell. Even if Doctor Gefarg could help you—and I’m not sure he could—I believe the gnome would be the best person to talk to about this.”
“The gnome?” Zachary asked.
Nurse Nightshade smiled.
“Medusa will know,” she said. “Just ask for the Guardian of Earth. But the less we say during this communication, the better. You can summon me at my home portal nights or weekends, though.” Two of her three eyes winked. “I have the Privacy Package, so old blue skin won’t get involved. Good luck Zachary.”
She disappeared, her image replaced with Medusa’s.
“I can summons Larzell Begstone Brekklestone, Guardian of Earth if you like,” the snake woman offered.
Zachary paused, a little spooked that she’d been listening in, then nodded.
“R-Red alert!” Bret whispered. Zachary looked over to see his friend pointing urgently toward the front of the store.
“Sorry, got to go!” Zachary tapped the casket and suddenly fell to the floor. He waited a second for the smoke and severed hands to be sucked inside the casket then picked himself and the U-Ghoul unit off the floor. The latter he tried to stuff into his pocket but it was much too big.
“It’s S-S-Stemson!” Bret said.
Knowing Bret wouldn’t want to face his lifelong bully, Zachary said, “You wait here. I’ll get rid of him.”
Kevin Stemson was already inside and leaning over the front counter when Zachary got to the front of the store. “Hey, Ack. What’s cooking in junk land?”
“I told you, I don’t want you in here.”
“That’s no way to treat your new buddy, Ack.” Kevin reached out and flicked Zachary’s nose, then laughed.
“Tell you what,” Zachary said to the slightly taller boy. He had to pause because it was a challenge controlling the anger brought on by Bret’s memories of getting viciously bullied for years.
“Yeah, what?” Kevin said.
“You get out and I won’t punch you in the face with my cast.”
Zachary was more surprised by his lack of fear than the words that burst out of his mouth. In the few fights he’d ever gotten into, he’d always been nervous enough to want to puke. But not this time. He didn’t feel a single tremble.
Kevin snickered but backed away from the counter.
“I’m not afraid of you, Ack.”
“You should be,” Zachary said, further surprising himself. There was something recognizable about the fury building inside him, but he couldn’t quite place it. He moved out from around the counter and toward the bigger boy.
Kevin gave another scoffing laugh, but it ended abruptly.
“Very funny, Zach.”
Zach not Ack?
“We’re going to have a lot of fun in school this year,” Kevin added. “Those little kids will pee their pants when they see us coming.”
Zachary grabbed Kevin’s white polo shirt and crinkled it in his good fist. He held his casted arm out like a club, and Kevin’s face melted with fear. Zachary thought the taller boy might start crying. How many times had Kevin done this very thing to Bret? Zachary tried not to further relive his friend’s memories for fear of what he might do. There was already enough exciting anger coursing through his veins.
“I want you to turn around and get out,” Zachary snarled. “I don’t want you to talk or even breathe. Just—Get―OUT!”
Given the terrified expression on Kevin’s face, Zachary wasn’t surprised when the taller boy did exactly as asked. Of course, once he got outside he turned back and yelled, “You’ll be sorry, Ack. You messed with the wrong guy this time.”
Zachary slammed the door closed and leaned against it. Now he felt sick to his stomach. He finally remembered when he’d felt that same kind of frenzied rage, felt that same kind of power. It had been in his dragon nightmare, just before he ate that poor creature.
He was close to vomiting.
“You were amazing!” Bret said.
“No I wasn’t,” Zachary responded. “I acted like every other bully in the world. I was acting like this thing.” He pounded angrily on one of his hard shoulders.
Kevin had no more than crossed the street when a rusty blue pickup truck pulled up in front of the store. A young brunette woman came around to the passenger side and offloaded first one then two toddlers, who both followed her into the store like colorful little penguins.
“Do you have any bureaus?” the woman asked.
Zachary pointed to a small grouping of mostly intact ones that were cluttering the right side of the store. She hurried that way but failed to take her children, who might have been twins. Like newborn puppies, they stood on wobbly legs and looked up at Zachary. One was dressed in tiny pink overalls with dark stains on the knees. The other wore a checkered red dress with a large safety pin holding one torn sleeve. The same girl wore different colored socks.
“Monster,” the one in pink overalls said, pointing at Zachary.
The other one nodded and burped up a white milky substance onto the front of her dress. Zachary would have tried to clean it, but Madame Kloochie kept no paper towels in the store and he had hopelessly dirtied all of his dust rags. Besides, after the dragon bite, he wasn’t sure he should be trusted near children. He could still hear the screams of the poor creature he’d eaten in his nightmare.
He backed a couple of steps from the children.
The woman returned to the front counter, pulled a napkin from her bag and wiped the mess from her baby’s dress. Then she picked the little girl up while the other toddler hid behind her legs and said, “Monster,” again.
“No, he’s not a monster, Betsy,” the mother said to the toddler. “He just has a cast on. He hurt his arm.”
“Booboo,” the little girl said.
“Yes, he has a booboo.” The mother reoriented on Zachary. “Could I get a deal if I took two of those bureaus?”
Zachary didn’t know if it was because she and her children really seemed to deserve a break or if it was more to prove he wasn’t a monster, but either way he said, “How’s free sound?”
She smiled brightly and insisted on paying, but Zachary waved away the few bills she pulled from her pocketbook. Besides, with Madame Kloochie’s magic cash register, it made no difference what she paid. It only took Bret and him a few minutes to load both bureaus into the bed of the rusty blue pickup. Fortunately, they were able to lay them down because Zachary hadn’t seen any rope in the truck. A few minutes later, the woman and her children were driving up the hill and away from Station End.
Bret went into a small sneezing fit when they returned to the store. Of course, he carried his own handkerchief for just such occasions. After he sneezed for the third time, he leaned against the front counter, where he spotted a twenty dollar bill the mother had surreptitiously left under the edge of the antique cash register. Bret pointed.
“She should have kept the money,” Zachary said as he slipped the bill into the register. “It’s just going to disappear anyway.”
Bret sneezed again.
“I tried to clean a little,” Zachary apologized.
“I noticed,” Bret said. “It does look better in here.”
Zachary was thankful that Bret hadn’t been there during his cleaning efforts. The clouds of dust would surely have made him sick.
“You probably should try to reach that gnome guy,” Bret said, “before someone else comes.”
Doesn’t she have other customers to talk to?, Zachary wondered when Medusa reappeared in the swirling U-Ghoul fog. He had never seen another operator. Even if there weren’t that many supernatural customers, it seemed that sooner or later someone else would try to communicate with her at the same time as him.
“You have seven thousand, two hundred and fifty-six messages,” Medusa said.
“Are they all from Krage?” Zachary asked.
“All but two messages are from His Lordship Ker Sevikrage,” she told him.
Zachary felt his insides tremble.
“Two are from someone else?”
“One is from the U-Ghoul administrators who wanted to thank you for your order of our Deluxe Privacy Package.” She remained unemotional, but Zachary got the distinct impression that some of the snakes on her head were grinning at him.
“And the other one?” Zachary asked.
“It is from Francis Neddleson Pill,” she said.
“Uncle Ned!” Zachary exclaimed. Was his father all right? Were they both back on Earth? “Please show me his message.”
Medusa disappeared to be replaced by his Uncle Ned, but not the way Zachary had ever seen him before. His face was dirty and his clothes were in tatters. Blood streaked one of his cheeks. He seemed to be in some sort of a dirt tunnel. The light was dim and flickering, possibly from a torch or candles.
“Sport,” Uncle Ned said, “I assume you’ve figured out how to use your father’s U-Ghoul by now. You never were one to follow orders overly well.” He smiled and wiped at his forehead, leaving another streak of blood. “You might have guessed from looking around that things aren’t going so well at the moment. Don’t worry, though; Pills always find a way.”
“Except for when they die,” Zachary muttered, remembering that most of his family had already been lost to Krage.
“I received news from the Pandemone corridor, Sport. Your dad is definitely still alive, or at least he was a day or so ago. Unfortunately, that’s the last I heard because he slipped through the barrier and is now somewhere on Pandemone. I―”
Zachary realized that he had stopped breathing sometime during his uncle’s message. He forced his lungs to suck in several breaths.
“—barely remember Pandemone,” his uncle continued, “because I was only five or six years old when my father escaped with us. But your dad was ten at the time, so he should remember enough to get around okay.”
Suddenly the light in his uncle’s tunnel went dark and flickered on again.
“There isn’t much time,” his uncle said, “so I better get to why I summoned you. First, you should know that I had a friend slip past the police to package up your slumber guard and ship it to you. It should arrive any day. Remember just rub its belly when you want it to wake. It will return to sleep once it determines any danger has passed. We try not to use slumber guards too often, though, because the more they’re awake the more they start to think for themselves. Sometimes they even abandon their owners.”
The tunnel light flickered again and Zachary could see dirt falling in clumps not far behind his uncle. Zachary wiped at his unbidden tears. Why was this happening to his family?
“Here’s the most important thing, Sport,” his uncle said. A clump of dirt fell into his hair. He brushed it off. “The corridor realms are buzzing with rumors that a new wizard is destined to become the Guardian of Earth. Since Merlin disappeared, his lionbrarian has been manning his New York office. But gnomes aren’t very good with magic, and it’s doubtful he’ll be able to manage things for long. There are some rumors that the new Guardian will be a boy. Here’s the part you won’t believe, Partner: since you’re the only boy wizard with Pandemone blood on Earth that I know of, I’m afraid that boy is probably you."
Zachary’s mouth fell open. This was impossible; he knew nothing about magic and had absolutely no idea what a Guardian of Earth was!
The light in Uncle Ned’s tunnel flickered, went black then came back on more dimly than before. “If you can avoid it, Buddy,” Uncle Ned warned, “stay away from that gnome. Believe me, you don’t want to be saddled with Merlin’s wand or his Guardian position. It would make you the target of every magical crazy on the planet. And since you’re already a Pill…well, let’s just say your odds of making it to adulthood wouldn’t be great.”
Zachary heard snarls and growling coming from somewhere close to his uncle. The big man grimaced and flexed his massive chest.
“Guess that’s it, Buddy,” he said. “I’ve got an ogre hound or two to deal with. Remember, stay away from the gnome!”
The smoke screen went blank for a moment before Medusa reappeared.
“Do you have any summons you’d like to make?” she asked.
“How long ago did my uncle send that message?” Zachary asked.
Medusa’s eyes turned white for just a moment. “His smoke impression was made forty-three minutes ago.”
“Can I reach him?” Zachary asked. He glanced over at Bret and knew his friend was rooting for him.
Medusa’s eyes went white for almost a full minute before she focused on him again. “I’m sorry, but Francis Neddleson Pill doesn’t seem to have a U-Ghoul portal on the system.”
“Then how did he leave my message?” Zachary asked.
Medusa shook her head. “We don’t currently know, but our administrators are looking into it.”
Zachary brushed at the tears streaking both his cheeks. Was it possible that he would soon be losing both his father and his uncle? How could any of this be fair? Hadn’t he suffered enough? Wasn’t the loss of his mother enough?
“Maybe you’d prefer to shut the unit down,” Medusa said. It was an odd comment, coming from her, and he wondered if he should take it as advice.
He looked over at Bret. “What do you think?”
Bret’s eyes were wide. “I-I don’t really understand what y-y-your uncle was talking about, b-but he doesn’t know about the d-d-dragon bite.”
Zachary knew his friend was right. There was no way his uncle would have thought that becoming a dragon was safer than talking to the Guardian of Earth. He turned to Medusa.
“I need to talk to Larzell, the gnome.”
As Zachary waited for white-eyed Medusa to connect him to the Guardian of Earth, he realized that at every turn, events were dragging him deeper and deeper into the dangerous magical realm that seemed to go hand-in-hand with being a Pill. He took a deep breath when Medusa’s head was replaced with that of a man with wild salt and pepper hair that stuck out as though a firecracker had exploded on his scalp. His thick-rimmed glasses sat like miniature tires to either side his huge nose. Behind him Zachary could see shelves filled with dozens of bottles, boxes, and other containers. The man leaned down sniffing until his huge nose looked like it might actually touch Zachary. Apparently satisfied with Zachary’s odor, he settled back with his head properly centered in the fog above the U-Ghoul casket. The strange man’s hands bobbed in and out of view as they intermittently tapped nervously first on his chin then on his neck.
“Something’s wrong with him?” Bret whispered.
“Wrong, wrong,” the wild-haired man said in a high pitched voice, “of course nothing’s wrong—liar!”
Oddly, Zachary felt as though he was interrupting a conversation. He cleared his throat and said, “I need your help.”
The man adjusted his tire-like glasses three times before staring at Zachary. “I expected to hear from you,” he said. “Green hair—smells like—” The gnome sniffed again. “—half-breed, definitely. A little of this, a little of that.”
“You’re Larzell?” Zachary said.
“Yes—rotten mama.” The man sniffed. His head bobbed nervously. His fingers tapped on his lips. “Could have named me Dormell or Bormat, but no, she—I definitely am Larzell.”
Though he was beginning to suspect the gnome had more than one personality rolling around in his oversized skull, Zachary didn’t care as long as he could get the answers he needed. But that meant somehow making sense of the crazy gnome’s comments. He intended to pay close attention.
“Could you help me with a problem?”
“Problem, problem!” The gnome grabbed his wild salt and pepper hair with both hands and shook his head furiously. He only stopped when his glasses started to slip off. He returned them to the center of his nose. “Thousands of problems—of course I’d like to help.”
The gnome was obviously on the verge of a breakdown. Maybe Zachary should have listened to his uncle. “I think this was a bad idea,” he said. “I’m sorry I bothered you.”
The gnome stopped quaking and stared at him.
“No. I mean, I can—he could be the one—that’s what I do. I help.” His fingers tapped against his cheek. “What is the problem—thousands of problems!”
Zachary had already decided to call Nurse Nightshade and find some other option. There had to be someone else who would know what to do about dragon poison. Either way, involving the crazy gnome any further would be reckless at best.
“Thanks for talking,” Zachary said to the quivering head, “but I’m okay.”
Larzell ran trembling fingers through his wild hair. “No, I can—sick of it, sick of it—Stop talking!” The gnome paused. “I would be willing—he could be the one—I can help.”
“No really,” Zachary said. “I’m all set.” He reached toward the casket to shut the system off.
The gnome leaned forward and sniffed again. “Mold,” he said, “—dust, lots of dust.”
Zachary didn’t like where this was going. “Thanks for talking,” he said before tapping the tiny casket.
Unfortunately, just before the black smoke and green hands were sucked back into the U-Ghoul system, he heard the gnome say, “A Kloochie!”
That night, Zachary tried to summon Nurse Nightshade’s home portal three times, and each time he left a message which Medusa insisted on calling a smoke impression. By midnight, Nurse Nightshade hadn’t yet gotten back to him yet. Just to be sure, he checked with Medusa one last time before settling down to sleep. As he lay there in bed, he slipped the medallion out from under his shirt and stared at the wizard who was now leaning against a tree with his staff in his lap. The steady rumble of Madame Kloochie’s loud snoring came from the living room couch. Zachary closed his eyes and counted between each of her snores. Usually he could get to twelve, but sometimes only ten. He ran his fingers inside his tee shirt collar and felt the scales that didn’t hurt but were hard as rock. At least they hadn’t spread any further, which gave him hope that he still had time to find a cure. But would the nightmares of fighting and eating helpless creatures come back?
He prayed they wouldn’t.
But what would he do if Nurse Nightshade didn’t get back to him or had no other advice?
I could try Larzell one last time.
He immediately rejected the thought. As crazy as the gnome obviously was, Zachary didn’t even want to imagine what kind of trouble he might get into by following his advice. No, he would wait for Nurse Nightshade to get back him. Then, somehow, he would find a way to rid his body of the dragon venom.
It took a long time, but finally Zachary stopped counting the spaces between Madame Kloochie’s snores and fell into his own troubled sleep.
Thump.
As Zachary woke, the taste of charcoal and smoke faded from his mouth. Sweat coated his body. He’d been having another dragon nightmare.
Another thump.
Zachary rubbed sleepy eyes and tried to make sense of the sound. It was too dark to see the hands of his alarm clock, but he sensed that he hadn’t been asleep very long. He tried to pinpoint the cause of the noise.
Scrape.
The sound came from his window! Moonlight flickered as something crossed between his window and the sky! Zachary sat bolt upright, all sleepiness washed away by a rush of fear. Had Krage’s bats found him again? Thankful for the many plants that shielded him from view, he stared at his window. Could it have been his imagination? After everything that had happened recently, who could blame him for being jumpy?
Another scrape.
Zachary shoved his blanket away and slid his feet to the floor. His sneakers were still on. He had forgotten to undress. Not surprising, given the events of yesterday. Sliding the rest of the way to the carpet, he crawled like a bug toward the window. He heard two more thumps and another scrape. And this time there was no mistaking it: a large shadow passed between him and the moonlit sky.
Zachary pressed his face to the floor!
The prowler must have been awfully tall or able to fly because there were no trees near his second floor window. A spot on Zachary’s chest grew cool—the medallion. What was out there? He eased the last few feet to the window and inched up enough to see past his purple passion plant. The sight sent shivers down his back. Half-a-dozen huge snakelike creatures with wings were circling over Gerald’s house. Their long tails whipped back and forth as they crisscrossed in a macabre dance. More similar shadows and shapes moved higher in the sky. What were these creatures? And more importantly what were they doing flying over Station End?
The scrape came again.
Zachary glimpsed a shadow. Possibly a creature clinging to the wall outside of his window! Ducking beneath the dense leaves of his ficus tree, he listened in horror to what sounded like claws tapping on the glass. His heart beating like bat wings and his stomach cramped with fear, he peered up through the foliage and saw a dark, vaguely human shape pressed against the glass. Glowing yellow eyes searched his room but didn’t turn his way. Zachary wanted to jump up, run and scream for help, but fear kept him melted behind his plants.
Please don’t see me!
After a few seconds, the shadowy figure moved away.
Goose bumps covered every part of Zachary’s body, and the spot where the medallion touched his chest had grown ice cold. Zachary lifted the cool disc from under his shirt and studied it in the moonlight. The wizard stood on a hilltop with his staff raised high in the air as though ready to fight. The metal had warmed considerably and Zachary slipped the disc back under his shirt. It appeared that somehow the medallion could recognize when danger was nearby.
Slow as a turtle, he crawled out from behind his ficus tree and approached the windowsill. Cautiously, he raised his head, peered out, saw nothing. He pushed his purple passion aside and glanced in both directions. Everything was clear. The yellow-eyed creature and the enormous flying snakes were all gone.
Exhausted from being tense for so long, Zachary slumped back against the footboard of his bed. Unfortunately, his mind would not quiet. Station End was beginning to feel more like a death trap than a hiding place. Of course, the creatures could have been a coincidence, but it seemed more likely that Krage had found him. Instinctively, Zachary knew he was in serious trouble. He already missed the simple days of spelling worms and oversized bats. At least they had been smaller than him.
Rubbing sore eyes, Zachary tried to sort through the jumble in his head. If by some chance he survived the dragon venom (which was not at all certain) he needed to take a crash course in magic. Otherwise, his uncle’s fears would be realized. Zachary would become—
Another dead Pill!
The thought brought Zachary’s fear for his family to the forefront of his thoughts. Had Uncle Ned made it to Pandemone with his father yet? Maybe they were fighting Krage right then. But, if so, how had he found the time to send creatures out looking for Zachary?
For the umpteenth time, Zachary tried to understand why the events in his life kept going from bad to worse. Just over a week before, he had gotten into a fight with Billy Timkin, had gone from one parent to none and now had an enemy that made Billy look like the stupid school kid that he was.
Life sucked.
Zachary tried to recall more normal times. He remembered one night when his mother had been cooking a beef and pork stew, and how she had been horrified when nosey Mrs. Whitaker across the hall suggested she add carrots and potatoes. Zachary and his father had shared a smirk that night, mostly because—though they agreed with the neighbor—they knew Fern Pill would never, EVER have cooked or eaten a plant. His memory fast forwarded to the time when his father had taken him to a sales conference in New York City. There, they ate hotdogs in Central Park and rode the elevator to the top of the Empire State Building. Zachary stared blankly at the plants covering his moonlit window and realized he might never again see his mother’s smile and might never again share a laugh with his father. Once upon a time he had been surrounded by people who loved and protected him, but now he had only Madame Kloochie, a woman who saw him as nothing more than a cleaning servant.
Wiping at the tears, Zachary tried to push the dark thoughts away. That was one lesson—maybe the only lesson—he had learned from his mother’s disappearance: when it came to things he couldn’t change, he was better off not thinking about them.
He rubbed one of his hard shoulders and wondered if he could ask Medusa for help. Up until that point, he had thought of the U-Ghoul system as only a sort of gruesome telephone and email system. But maybe the snake woman knew more than just how to forward messages. As he eased back into bed, Zachary determined that he would somehow get answers from Medusa or Nurse Nightshade. But if that failed, he would contact Larzell again. One thing was certain: if Krage already had creatures searching his neighborhood, it wouldn’t long before he pinpointed Madame Kloochie’s house.
Yes, Zachary needed answers and, judging from the way his heart still yammered, they needed to come soon.
The next morning, Zachary’s eyes felt like gravel-coated balls. He tried not to think of the half dozen creatures he had tracked down and eaten during his dragon nightmares, and instead focused on the real events from the night before. How many of the huge flying snakes there had been: a dozen, more? And unless the moonlight and night sky had thrown off his perceptions, those snakes had been as long as cars. Zachary didn’t want to imagine what would have happened had they or the yellow-eyed creature found him.
“Zachary!” Madame Kloochie called out, her sharp voice piercing his reverie. “Zachary!”
He stuck his head out into the dining room. “Yeah?”
“There’s a delivery truck downstairs,” she said, “and it’s too early for Porky Stanley. So please go down and tell that luscious driver he can bring my package right up. I might even share a little breakfast with him.” She held up a chocolate cream donut and made a horrible face involving green lipstick and puckered lips.
Zachary studied Madame Kloochie’s expression. His first instinct was that she was setting him up for another rocket attack, but the pastry box in her lap was closed and she had only one half-eaten donut in her hand. He was still pondering whether or not to cross the open room when the doorbell rang.
“It might be something for me,” he said, remembering what his uncle had told him.
“Doesn’t matter,” Madame Kloochie cooed, “he should still come upstairs.”
“I’ll tell him,” Zachary said. Any driver foolish enough to go near her man-crazy self would deserve what he got as far as Zachary was concerned. He hurried down the stairs and opened the door to find a man standing beside a tall irregular package wrapped in cardboard. It looked large enough to contain the slumber guard.
“You Zachary Pill?” the man asked.
Zachary nodded.
“It’s big but not too heavy,” the driver said, glancing nervously up the stairs. He handed Zachary an electronic pad with an attached pen. “Just need you to sign here.”
Zachary did as asked and handed the unit back.
The man motioned upward with his head. “You live with her now, huh?”
Zachary shook his head. “I’m only staying for a little while.”
“Wow.”
Zachary smirked. “Guess that means you don’t want to go up and have breakfast with her?”
The man’s expression changed from bemusement to horror and then to urgency. “Good luck with…everything,” he said. He leaned the slumber guard against Zachary’s open hands and hurried back into his truck. “’Got a lot of other deliveries to make!”
The driver pulled the truck around in a rapid three-point turn in the middle of the dead-end street. Tires squealed as the big van headed back up the hill and away from Station End. Zachary’s smile faded, however, when he realized he would have to tell Madame Kloochie her breakfast offer hadn’t been accepted. Hoping a few donut strikes wouldn’t awaken the alligator, he lifted the large but surprisingly light package and hoped it would serve as a donut shield.
A few minutes later, he was staring at the unwrapped slumber guard that took up a big section of floor in the center of his bedroom. It lay motionless, just as it had behind the couch in their Boston living room for the first thirteen years of Zachary’s life. Wondering what might have happened if the shadow creature and the slumber guard had met the previous night, Zachary slid his large spider plant and ficus tree pots to the opposite corner of the room and moved the alligator against the wall closest to the window. Now that Zachary had the middle of his room back, the slumber guard seemed to fit just fine. Surprisingly, he also felt safer.