THORNSDAY

Professor Irae cast the Spell of Transvaporization, and I wound up back in my tower. I didn’t even have a chance to apologize to Oggy. I had to hold off until today to make amends. So I waited for him in the courtyard before school, but he didn’t show. At midday feast, I sat down at our usual spot. I figured this was my chance to apologize for his twisted ankles and the loss of that imp. I thought the two of us could go scrounging for little creatures after school today. I had it all planned out. We’d delve into the Goblin Grotto and search for bogeys, and if we didn’t find any of those, I knew a cave that led to the Haunted Hollows, where I was sure we could find one of those wily whelps or maybe even a walking weed.

But when Oggy came into the feast hall, he limped right by me and sat down with two goblins, Raven Blackwing and Tempest Shadowood. I walked over to Oggy and asked him about his injury, but he just shook his head and looked the other way. I felt pretty stupid just standing there with no one talking to me. So I had to ask the goblins to find out what was wrong. Oggy told the goblins to tell me that after what happened at the archive, his parents had forbidden him to hang out with me or speak to me. Oggy’s mom wanted him to be a soldier, so she expected strict discipline from her son. I shook my head at that one. Oggy could barely keep a gremlin from falling out of his pocket. Also, if his mom wanted her son to be a soldier, she probably ought to kiss up to me or at least offer me a little respect. I was supposed to be the next Dark Lord. I’d rule over the entire army when I took my throne. But maybe Oggy’s mom didn’t think I was up to the task, or in all likelihood, she just didn’t like that we’d broken the castle rules. Orcs are stubborn about that sort of stuff.

While Raven explained the situation, Oggy pulled a gnome out of his pocket. Apparently, he already had a new friend. The goblin girls were all excited to find out what it was, so they kept poking the little creature and asking questions about his pointy hat. All three of them ignored me.

After that embarrassing display, I went back to my usual spot. Not only was Oggy banned from talking to me, but he was also joking around with the goblins, showing off his gnome friend, and generally getting a lot of attention from everyone. The whole thing stunk.

And to make things worse, the bell rang as soon as I sat back down. I hadn’t wanted to start my feast without Oggy, so I’d waited for him to arrive. But he’d been late because of his “ankle situation,” and I’d wasted all that time watching him play with his gnome friend. Midday feast was over, and I hadn’t even had a bite to eat.

At that point, I OUGHT to have just gone back to class. I went to visit Hal instead. Except the dragon refused to speak to me. He was fast asleep but woke briefly just to tell me to relax and take a nap of my own.

The universe was telling me to back off. Slow down, it said. Take it easy. Stop trying so hard.

I did the opposite. I couldn’t slow down! Operation Dark Lord was pretty much all I had left. I was determined to find the perfect spell, and no one was going to stop me. I headed back to the Archive of Malevolent Mysticism, spoke the password, and entered the great and cavernous tower.

Inside, spell books of every conceivable description lined the walls. I could spend years browsing the stacks, but I needed to make certain no one saw me. So I snuck into the section on illusions and vanishings, which was appropriately concealed at the back of the archive. It wasn’t my favorite subject, but the stacks WERE abandoned and generally difficult to find. Also, I thought I’d check out some of the lower-level spells the illusionists used, just to get an idea of what was out there. I found a pocket edition called Minor Vanishings and How to Dismiss Them. I slipped it underneath my warlock robe and headed up the archive’s back stair. This time I went straight to the top of the tower. I guessed it would be empty. Not that many warlocks are old enough to cast the ultra-high-level spells.

Unfortunately, someone was already there.

Wormfinger. From behind one of the stacks, I could see that the bald-headed, mostly failed, occasional cryptogeometry professor was poring through some pretty dangerous titles. I mean, who needs a book called Exploding Students? He should have been in the MG-45 and under section, but he was looking at MG-135 tomes, which were way above his age level. And under his arm he had one of the Dark Lord biographies. I recognized the black leather cover. Then, as he pulled down a volume called Transvaporization, Indiscernibility, and Alchemy, he turned around and looked right at ME.

I ducked, and I think I got out of the way before he recognized me.

I hurried down the stairs, out of the archive, and all the way back to Gorey’s tower. No one followed, so I THINK I made it out of there without getting caught. I heaved a great sigh of relief! Phew! Tomorrow was Dark Lord Day, and the last thing I wanted to do on our great and terrible holiday was scrub the machine room again.