CHAPTER 2

“Mystic, stop!”

Ethan raced after the dog. He was relieved when she stopped just short of the water lapping against the muddy shore. But as the Chocolate Lab with the tennis ball loped out of the water, Mystic went straight for his ball.

Growling and crouching, she yapped at the dog. He turned in annoyed circles, trying to avoid her. Finally, he growled back and lunged at Mystic.

“No!” cried Devin. “He’s going to hurt her!”

“No he won’t.” A kid with a blonde buzz cut and bright orange swim trunks jumped up from his beach towel and ran over. “He won’t hurt her,” he said again, sounding just as annoyed as his dog. “He just doesn’t want to share his ball.”

He clipped a leash to the Lab’s collar and led him toward the towel. Mystic started to follow, until Devin called out, “Misty, stop!”

This time, the puppy listened. She trotted toward Devin as if to say, “Hey! Long time no see, buddy.”

Then the other Lab—the yellow one—waded out of the lake. Ethan could see what was coming from a mile away, but he couldn’t move!

Sure enough, the dog braced her body and then shook it, sending off a great muddy spray.

Ethan took most of it in the face. “Ew.”

“Sorry!” called a teenage girl who had been sitting on the pier. “Bad girl, Sandy.” She pulled her long, brown hair into a ponytail and then grabbed the towel that was draped over the post of the pier. She offered it to Ethan. “Here, use this before I dry her off.”

“A towel would have been a good idea,” said Devin, lifting up Mystic’s muddy paws one by one. “Mom’s not going to be happy.”

“A tennis ball would have been a good idea, too,” said Ethan as he handed the towel back to the girl. “We should have brought Mystic’s—our dog’s—ball so that she wouldn’t try to steal someone else’s! Sorry about that.”

“No problem,” said the girl. She smiled and then squatted and began drying off her dog.

Ethan and Devin led Mystic away from the pier and back up the trail. Then they hurried past the beach and picnic area. Families were already cooking hot dogs, which made Mystic’s nose go crazy. She tugged at her leash, but Devin held her back. “You’re not allowed there, sweetie,” she said. “Sorry.”

As they neared the quieter end of the lake, Devin gave Mystic some slack in her leash—just enough so that she could run ahead a few feet.

While Mystic followed her nose, rustling up birds, butterflies, and ducks from the grasses near the water, Ethan and Devin started rustling up Pokémon on their phones: Staryu, Venonat, Krabby, Poliwag, and even a giant, flopping Magikarp. They took turns, one holding Mystic’s leash and the other catching Pokémon.

“It’s like Mystic can smell them or something,” said Devin. “Her nose works better than the Pokémon GO tracker. She’s leading us right to them!”

Ethan knew that wasn’t possible, but it did seem like wherever Mystic found some bird or animal to hunt, they found Pokémon, too. Now, if only I could catch them, he thought as he flung a Poké Ball toward a Goldeen—and missed.

“I need to work on my throws,” he told Devin. “I’m not going to get Great Balls until I hit Level Twelve, and at this rate, that’ll take forever.” It had taken him weeks just to reach Level Nine.

“Gia could teach you how to throw better,” said Devin as she bent to unwind the leash from around Mystic’s leg.

Ethan had already thought of asking their friend and teammate for some pointers. Gianna scored extra points for great and excellent throws all the time, and she was the only one of them who had mastered the curveball, too.

“Hey, if we come back to the lake tomorrow, we should ask Dad if Gia and Carlo can come, too,” he said. Gianna’s older brother, Carlo, was a Level-Fifteen Trainer. With Gianna and Carlo’s help, Ethan would hit Level Ten before the week ended!

“Let’s go ask him right now,” said Devin.

They found Dad fishing near a willow tree that bent low over the water. Or was he sleeping? His hat had slid down over his eyes.

As they got closer, Ethan saw that Dad’s eyes were open wide. He was studying his phone.

“Hey, Dad, are you playing Pokémon GO?” Ethan called to him.

“What? No,” said Dad, straightening up. “I’m fishing. I just thought I’d, you know, catch a Larry or two while I waited for some action on the line.”

“Larry” was Dad’s pet name for Weedle and, for some reason, he caught an awful lot of them.

Ethan grinned at Devin. Dad liked playing Pokémon GO as much as he and Devin did. But he’d never admit it—at least not in front of Mom.

“Um, Dad?” said Devin.

“Yeah?”

“You might want to check your bobber.”

Ethan looked, too, and saw it bobbing up and down like a Poké Ball with a Magikarp trapped inside.

Dad grabbed his hat and jumped up. He yanked his pole up from the log he’d propped it against and started reeling. “Oh, it’s a big one,” he said. “I can feel it! Hold on, kids!”

He braced his legs against the shore as if he were reeling in a Great White Shark. Mystic barked and growled as if she were going to take on that shark herself.

Finally, the fish sprang from the water. But what was dangling from Dad’s line wasn’t exactly the big one.

Ethan cleared his throat. “Hmm. I wonder why they call those little fish Bluegill when they’re actually kind of yellow?”

When Dad didn’t respond, Devin added, “Well, I do like crispy little fish!”

“Me, too,” boomed a voice behind them. A man with a shock of white hair tipped his fishing hat toward them as he passed. He held up a line of fish he’d caught, which had plenty of Bluegill hanging from it. But there were a few really big fish on there, too, Ethan noticed.

“I’m going to go home now and leave a few in the lake for you.” The old man grinned and gave one last wave as he walked toward the parking lot, his tackle box bouncing against his side.

“Where’d he catch those big fish?” asked Ethan.

“Probably at the bridge,” said Dad, pointing toward a wooden bridge that arched over the stream running into the lake. “Badfish Creek Bridge. I’d fish over there, too, if it weren’t always so crowded.”

“Badfish?” asked Ethan. “Why would anyone want to fish in a creek with bad fish in it?”

“I don’t know,” said Devin. “But the bridge is also a Pokémon gym. Look!” She held up her phone, which showed a towering, yellow Team Instinct gym.

“Cool!” Ethan pulled out his own phone, being careful to keep a tight grip on Mystic’s leash. He chuckled when he saw the Pokémon spinning on top. “Magikarp? The Gym Leader there fights with a floppy Magikarp?”

“Yeah—that’s even his Trainer name, see? MagikarpKid. And he’s the only Defender at the gym right now. Hey, we should try to take it over!” said Devin. “We haven’t battled or trained our Pokémon at Dottie’s in ages.”

It was true. Ethan could barely remember the last time he, Devin, Carlo, and Gianna had met at Dottie’s Doughnuts, their favorite Team Mystic gym. They hadn’t battled at any gym, not even the one they’d taken over at the library last month.

“Not since we got Mystic,” he said, bending over to scratch the Chow’s furry head. “We’ve been kind of busy since then.”

“Let’s do it,” said Devin. “Dad can watch Mystic while we battle.”

Dad held out his hand for the leash. “I might as well puppy-sit,” he said. “Since the fishing thing isn’t exactly panning out.” Then he cracked up, as if he’d just told the world’s funniest joke.

“Get it?” said Dad. “Pan fish?”

Ethan just shook his head. He’d learned a long time ago not to encourage Dad’s bad jokes. They only got worse when he did.

He made sure Mystic’s leash was wrapped snugly around Dad’s wrist. Then he followed Devin past the boat launch toward the bridge. They sat on a large flat rock by the water. Then he tapped on the gym on his phone screen and selected his Pokémon for battle.

“Let’s see,” said Ethan, “I’m going to lead with Vaporeon. That’s my toughest Pokémon now.” He also threw in Drowzee, his newest Pokémon, just for fun. Then he rounded out his team of six with a few more powerful Pokémon.

When he saw sparks fly from the top of the tower, he realized Devin was already battling. “Hey, wait for me!”

Pretty soon, he was tapping the screen, too, attacking the flopping Magikarp. He filled the blue bar at the top of his screen quickly. Then he held his finger down to release Vaporeon’s Water Pulse attack.

“Again, Vaporeon,” he ordered. “Destroy that dirty carp!”

He delivered Water Pulse twice, and then a third time.

And then the battle was over—almost too soon.

“We did it!” said Devin. “Team Mystic takes control. Which Pokémon are you leaving here?”

“Drowzee,” said Ethan while he healed his Vaporeon. “Because that battle almost put me to sleep.”

Devin rolled her eyes. “And that was a total Dad joke.”

Ethan glanced over his shoulder to see if Dad was watching them, but he seemed to be playing his own game of Pokémon GO—one-handed, while the other hand kept Mystic under control. Dad’s fishing line was still in the water, but it didn’t seem to be getting much action.

Then something caught Ethan’s eye in the lake below. “Duck!” he said, nudging Devin. The duck dove underwater. It was apparently fishing, too.

“Duck butt,” said Devin, giggling at the cute tail feathers poking out of the water.

A sharp bark rang out, which meant that Mystic had her eye on that duck butt, too. When the duck resurfaced and swam a little too close to shore, Ethan cupped his hand over his mouth and called out a warning.

“Dad, hang on tight to …”

Too late. Ethan saw the look of horror on Dad’s face as he looked down at his open hand—that hand that seconds ago had held the dog leash.

Mystic yapped and ran alongshore beside the squawking, flapping duck. Her leash bounced along the ground behind her.

“Grab it!” Ethan called to Devin, who was running toward her already. “Step on the leash!”

She tried, but tripped. Devin face-planted in a spray of reeds, and Ethan tore past her, his eyes fixed on Mystic.

As the duck flapped its wings and finally rose into the air, Mystic stood up on her hind legs. Ethan saw his opportunity and dove for the leash.

But Mystic had already moved on. The leash slipped out of reach.

Ethan pushed himself to his feet, scanning the shoreline for the dog. Where had she gone?

There she was, rolling on her back with her feet in the air. Ethan couldn’t help laughing. “Are you scratching your back?” he whispered, as he snuck up on the puppy and grabbed the end of her leash. “Does that feel good?”

That’s when the stench hit him.

Mystic wasn’t rolling on the ground because it felt good. Mystic was rolling in something.

Something dead.

And something very fishy.