Brown hobbled in a half-run, half-skip along the hall, his cane tapping out a rapid rhythm. Morton and the others had to break into a canter to keep up with him.
“But, sir,” Morton repeated.
“Don’t say anything yet,” he replied. “I’ll explain soon enough.”
Morton nodded as he, Robbie, and James followed Brown to the parking lot. Brown opened the back door of his black sedan and motioned for them to get in. They paused.
“Where are you taking us?” James asked, eyeing the backseat suspiciously.
“Home, of course,” Brown said.
“Home?”
“Listen to me, boys, there’s something you have to know. The wishes can only be reversed on the full moon, and that’s tonight. Can you really wait another month?”
Morton had already made up his mind about that. He wasn’t sure if they could even wait another hour, but the idea of climbing into Brown’s car went against all his instincts.
“The most important thing right now,” Brown went on, “is to get you safely home where Sharpe can’t come asking questions without a warrant, which she won’t be able to get until tomorrow at the earliest. By then we’ll have reversed the wishes and everything will be back to normal.”
“How?” James said, sounding suddenly hopeful. “How can you reverse the wishes?”
“I’ll explain on the way.”
“Okay, I’m in!” James said, and jumped into the backseat without waiting for the others. Morton moved to follow him, but Robbie put his hand on his arm.
“Are you sure about this?” he said.
“No,” Morton said, “but James is running out of options.”
Morton climbed in beside James, and Robbie reluctantly followed them.
Brown didn’t even wait for them to get their seat belts on before speeding away. “I haven’t been completely honest with you,” he said, glancing cautiously in his mirror as he began to weave his way along the backstreets, “but then again, you haven’t been completely honest with me, have you?”
“No, sir,” Morton admitted.
Mr. Brown laughed through his nose. “You can call me Rodney if you like.”
For some reason the idea of calling Mr. Brown “Rodney” didn’t appeal to Morton at all.
“How do you know about the wishes?” Morton asked, eager to move the conversation forward.
Mr. Brown puffed his cheeks. “I should have said something sooner, before things got out of hand. But you’ve been very secretive. You see, I used to know John King, and I knew he dabbled in dark magic. Although, to be honest, I never really believed it was real. I thought he was just a crazy old man desperate to get his sight back.”
“Is that why you acted, uh, weird, when I asked you about magic?” Morton asked.
“I admit, I was pretty shocked. You see, that’s how it all started. About two years ago King approached me, just as you did, asking about mystics and ancient magical ceremonies. I was surprised when you came out with the same question.”
“King came to see you?” Morton asked in surprise.
“Yes. Somehow he’d gotten hold of this gargoyle, and he insisted it could grant three wishes. Except it wasn’t that simple. The gargoyle in itself isn’t magic. It’s just a vessel. That’s how he described it. You have to activate the magic with some kind of dark ceremony — a ceremony that can only be performed on the night of the full moon, of course. King asked me if I knew anything about this mystical stuff.” Brown shook his head and sighed with a look of shame. “The problem was, I did. I’d come across this book in an auction that was all about ancient magic — you know, animal sacrifice, mystic rituals, sun worship, that sort of thing. It wasn’t very expensive, and I had no idea when I bought the book that it was the only one in existence. It was handwritten, copied from much older texts, which had also been copied from other, even older texts. It didn’t even have a title. King had a name for it though. He called it The Book of Portals. Sure enough it had an illustration of the gargoyle in it, with a detailed description of how to perform a dark ceremony that would summon magical powers from another dimension.
“Of course I didn’t believe in any of that. Why would I? But King kept on asking. It wasn’t just that he wanted the book, mind you. It turned out it took two people to perform the activation ceremony, so he couldn’t do it alone. I tried to humor him at first, but he started harassing me at work. Then he promised me I could have two of the wishes to myself. He wanted only one wish: to get his sight back. I still didn’t believe in magic, not really, but he was so convincing. Two wishes, I thought. I could do a lot with that. Get rid of this bum leg, for one thing. So I agreed to help him. The way I saw it, it was a bit like buying a lottery ticket. You never really expect to win. In fact, you know it’s almost impossible to win. But yet you still go ahead and buy the ticket don’t you?” Brown steered the car onto Hemlock Hill. “I should never have agreed.”
“What happened?” Morton asked, unsure he wanted to know the answer.
Brown parked at the foot of the driveway and turned to look up at the turret that had once been King’s studio. He shook his head yet again. “I joined him on the night of the full moon, up there in the attic. Up until then it had been just a silly idea, a way to humor an old man, but when I climbed into King’s attic it became suddenly very real. He had everything ready for the ceremony. The black pigs were in a bag hanging from the rafters, squealing. A spiral was neatly painted on the floor. And the gargoyle sat in that stone font in the middle of the room with some kind of incense burning beneath it, filling the air with smoke. I panicked. I told him I couldn’t go through with it. He’d expected me to say that, of course. He might have been crazy, but he wasn’t stupid. Before I knew it he’d kicked the hatch closed and snapped a padlock over it. Then he revealed the truth of his plan. He wasn’t going to share any of the wishes with me. He didn’t need me to recite lines, or light candles. That’s not why he’d asked me to help him. The truth was that for the magic to work he needed a human sacrifice. He laughed when he told me. Laughed because I had been so predictable. Everybody’s the same, he said. They’ll risk everything for the promise of power. But that’s not how it was. I didn’t want power. I wouldn’t have minded getting full use of my leg back, but mostly I was just curious. Curiosity should be the eighth deadly sin. It almost killed me that night.
“King attacked me with a large curved dagger — like a scimitar but smaller. The fact that he was blind didn’t seem to matter. He started lashing at the air savagely, and because of my leg I couldn’t move without making a noise. Every time I tried to slip away, he homed in on me, slashing and swinging that horrific blade. I knew if I was going to survive I needed the key, so I plucked up the courage to attack him. I don’t really remember what happened except that there was a struggle and the key fell out of his pocket. Somehow, I honestly don’t remember how, I managed to get the hatch open and get out of there with my life. I didn’t look back. I never saw King again.”
The three boys had barely breathed while Brown told his story. Once it ended, they all suddenly gasped as if surfacing from a long dive.
“What do you mean, you never saw him again?” Robbie asked. “Didn’t you call the police?”
“I probably should have,” Brown replied. “But King died later that night, and I didn’t want to get involved. I should have come forward, I know I should have, but I figured he was dead. What more could the police have done?”
“What happened after you left?” Robbie asked.
Brown shook his head. “I don’t know. I drove straight home and locked the door. I always presumed King had been stumbling around his garden, still looking for me, when he tripped and fell down the well. It made sense at the time. He was crazed with anger.”
Morton felt an odd mixture of disappointment and denial. It seemed absolutely certain that King was a murderous mad man after all. But there were parts of the puzzle missing. “That still doesn’t explain why he buried the gargoyle,” Morton said.
“Buried it?” Brown said, shooting a curious look at Morton. “King buried the gargoyle?”
Morton nodded. “Just a few feet from the well. I found it when I was mowing the lawn just after we moved in. Dad said the frost must have pushed it up, so it couldn’t have been buried very deep. I thought it might have been done in a hurry.”
Brown rubbed his chin and seemed to drift off into thought. “Of course,” he said quietly.
“Of course what?” Morton prodded.
Brown turned to face the boys directly. “If King performed the ceremony and then fell down the well, wouldn’t his death have been the equivalent of a sacrifice?”
“I don’t follow.”
“Ever since I first suspected that something unnatural was going on,” Brown explained, “I began to wonder. First, where the gargoyle had vanished to, and second, how the wishes could have been activated without a human sacrifice. This answers both questions. If King fell down the well, then maybe the other-dimensional powers, or whatever they are, accepted that as a sacrifice.”
“It still doesn’t explain why he buried the gargoyle though,” Morton said, holding out hope for a better explanation.
“He was crazy,” Brown said dismissively. “Trying to understand a crazy man is like trying to build a house out of sand. Best not waste your energy.”
“So you think he’s dead, then?” James asked.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?” Brown shot back.
The boys exchanged glances. “We don’t know,” Morton said honestly. “But the Zombie Twins tried to steal the gargoyle. They’re obviously on some kind of mission. We wondered if they might be working for King.”
Brown’s eyes darted nervously around him. “Then we had better be extra cautious,” he said. “We should perform the ceremony in King’s attic. If we keep it locked, we’ll be safe in there. Can you carry the gargoyle up to get it ready?”
The boys nodded.
“I’ll take care of the rest,” Brown said. “But we don’t have much time. The ceremony will only work while the moon is in the sky.”
“How do you know all this?” Morton asked.
“King’s book describes how to reverse the wishes in great detail,” Brown said reassuringly. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back with it as soon as the sun goes down, and we’ll make this all go away.”
The boys clambered out of the car and Brown crunched it into gear. “Oh yes, and you’ll need all three fingers,” he said, through the driver’s side window. “Do you still have them?”
James and Morton nodded.
“Good. That’s the most important thing.”
The boys watched in silence as Brown drove away.
“I guess you were right about him,” Robbie said. “We should have told him sooner.”
Morton nodded but didn’t say anything. Something about Brown’s explanation wasn’t quite right.
Not long afterward Melissa and Wendy ambled gloomily down the driveway. The boys, who had been waiting on the porch, pounced on them at once and told them all about the day’s events. When the story was finished, Melissa became unusually silent. She stood for a long time peeling loose flakes of paint from the side of the house.
“Let me get this straight,” she said at last. “Your creepy history teacher is coming here tonight to help us reverse the wishes?”
“That’s a funny way of putting it, but yes,” James said.
“I don’t know,” Melissa said wearily. “Are you sure we can trust this guy? Why didn’t he say something sooner?”
“For the same reason I didn’t tell you about my wish or you didn’t tell us where your wish came from. Because it’s all so weird and spooky that nobody wants to talk about it. Anyway, we really don’t have much choice, do we? It’s tonight or …”
“I know,” Melissa said. “You’re a nine-foot flesh-eating centipede by the end of the week. I get it, I just don’t like it.”
Morton remained silent, but somewhere inside he didn’t like it either.
Later that evening, Dad invited Wendy and Robbie to supper and tried not to show his disappointment when nobody seemed to be hungry. “Is it exam week?” he said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a miserable bunch of children.”
“We’re sorry, Mr. Clay,” Wendy said. “It must be the change in weather.”
“I suppose I could pretend to believe that,” Dad said. “After all, it is almost Halloween. Actually, I’m surprised Morton hasn’t started decorating already. Usually the house is covered in fake cobwebs and plastic skeletons by now.”
Morton feigned a smile. “I’ll be sure to put them up soon,” he said, although nothing could be further from his mind.
“I should hope so. You know, one of the reasons I chose this house was because I knew you would love it.”
“I thought it was because it was cheap,” Melissa said.
“That too,” Dad confessed with a sheepish grin.
It was almost completely dark by the time Dad left for work, and as Morton watched him drive away he noticed that the full moon was already hovering over the rooftops and the swarm of bats was flapping around the turret again.
“I can’t believe it’s going to be over tonight,” Melissa said as they stepped back into the kitchen.
“I know,” James said, stuffing a fistful of coals into his mouth eagerly. “It’s so amazing. It almost makes you want to sing,” and James opened his mouth but instead of singing a small yellow cloud of smoke billowed out.
Melissa snatched the bag of coals from James’s hands. “Will you stop eating those things!” she said irritably. “They’re making you weird.”
“They are?” James said naively. Nobody answered, but Wendy gave him a small nod and a sympathetic smile.
“Oops!” James said, putting his hand to his mouth and giggling. “Well, I think I’ll go get some food to tide me over.”
“What, now?” Melissa exclaimed.
“No time like the present,” James said, strolling out onto the porch.
“James! We have to get things ready. We need to get the gargoyle into King’s attic and …”
“I’m leaving!” James growled, suddenly not sounding like James at all.
Morton felt his whole body tense up. Everybody fell into sudden silence.
“I think you should stay here,” Wendy said after a long pause.
“And I think you should mind your own business,” James said, removing his glasses and staring threateningly at her.
Wendy let out a small scream and even Robbie gasped. Morton felt a pulse of pure horror run through his veins. James’s eyes had changed again. The whites were now a vivid green, laced with deep-purple veins surrounding an enormous octagonal pupil. The wishes really were getting stronger. It was only then that Morton realized why. “It’s the full moon,” he said. “I should have realized sooner. Ancient magic often follows the cycles of the moon. James, if we don’t reverse the wishes, you’re going to turn tonight.”
“Like I care,” James said, and he turned back to the night and sniffed at the air, letting out a low tiger-like growl.
“Monsters,” Melissa grunted angrily. “They’re all the same.” Then, to Morton’s amazement, she produced a length of chain and a large pair of cast-iron manacles seemingly from nowhere. With surprising speed and agility she shot forward and clasped the manacles onto James’s wrists, looped the chain around his ankles, and tugged tightly on the other end, toppling him to the floor face-first.
“Ouch!” he protested, sounding suddenly like James again. “What are you doing?”
“It’s for your own good,” Melissa said.
“Where did you get those?” Wendy asked, shocked by the sudden attack.
“I found them in the closet with all the medieval clothing,” Melissa said. “There’s everything in there: swords, maces, crossbows. Not exactly my definition of accessories, but to each his own.”
James rolled onto his back and looked up at Melissa. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I got a bit carried away there. But I feel fine now. Take them off and I’ll behave myself, honest.” James made a pleading look, but somehow, with those grotesque green eyes, it was impossible to trust him.
“Right,” Melissa said, completely ignoring James and looking at Wendy and Robbie. “It looks like we’ve got our hands full, so you two should probably head home before this gets any uglier.”
“Home?” Wendy and Robbie exclaimed, glancing at each other in surprise.
“We can’t go home now,” Wendy went on. “Not when James is … well, not quite himself.”
“I’m not actually giving you a choice,” Melissa said firmly. “This could get dangerous, and I’m not prepared to get anybody else involved.”
“But we’re already involved,” Robbie said in an unusually adamant tone. “And I don’t know about Wendy, but I’m not about to walk out of here and leave my friends to fend for themselves when they’re up against the wall. So, we can stand here and waste time arguing about it or we can just get on with what needs to be done, but either way, I’m not leaving.”
“Ditto,” Wendy said, putting her hands on her hips in a defiant gesture.
Melissa puffed her cheeks and glanced over to Morton as if seeking his advice.
Morton could understand Melissa’s point of view. They’d already caused more than enough upset, and the idea of any harm coming to Robbie or Wendy was unthinkable. But, judging by the looks on their faces, he could also see that any arguments would be futile.
“I suppose we could use the help,” Morton said. “I mean, we have a lot to get ready.”
Melissa opened her mouth as if to protest one more time, but Wendy cut her off quickly.
“Good, that’s settled. I was thinking we should go into Melissa’s closet and get some of those swords, for self-defense, just in case things do get ‘uglier.’”
“Of course,” Morton said. “That’s a great idea.”
“I’m not just a pretty face,” Wendy said.
“I suppose I would feel better with a sword in my hands,” Melissa admitted.
“We better get started right away,” Robbie said, glancing at his watch. “The moon sets in five hours.”
“He’s right.” Morton nodded. “But be careful in there. The wishes are getting stronger, and we don’t want you disappearing forever like the girl in King’s story.”
“Believe me, that’s not going to happen,” Melissa said. “Not all the monsters in Scare Scape could stop me tonight.” And she and Wendy headed out of the room.
“We should get that gargoyle into the attic,” Morton said, already feeling drained and exhausted.
Robbie looked at Morton and must have seen the strain on his face. “Don’t worry,” he said. “How does that saying go? ‘It’s always darkest before the dawn.’”
Morton made a thin smile. He was secretly overjoyed that Robbie was here to help, but he knew that something sinister was about to unwind, and despite Robbie’s supportive words he didn’t feel optimistic at all. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t convince himself that they would in fact live long enough to see the dawn.