Artie crossed his arms tightly over his chest. He clenched his jaw and shut his eyes. He muttered some words I couldn’t make out.

Then he opened his eyes and raised them to Inspector Cranium, bobbing on the ceiling.

“Let me down!” Cranium boomed. “This is your final warning!”

Artie chanted some strange words in a low voice. He kept his stare on Cranium.

“Your last warning!” Cranium repeated. But this time his voice was higher … softer. “You kids cannot handle your powers! You must stop this nonsense and let me down!”

Cranium’s voice grew even higher.

I gazed up at him. “Oh, my goodness!” I cried out in shock.

Cranium was no longer bald. He had a full head of black wavy hair.

As I stared, his beard disappeared. He was growing even shorter. His arms and legs shrank into his lab coat.

“He … looks a lot younger,” I muttered.

“He IS younger,” Nina said, close beside me. “It’s working. Watch!”

Artie had his eyes wide on Cranium. With his arms still crossed in front of him, he chanted the same words over and over.

Cranium’s hands thrashed at his sides. His shoes fell off and thumped to the floor. He kicked the ceiling with his bare feet.

“Let me down! Let me down!” he shouted in a little boy’s voice. “Let me DOWN! This isn’t fair! This isn’t FAIR!”

And then … “WAAAAAAAAAAAH! WAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

Cranium wailed like a baby.

He WAS a baby. A red-faced baby wrapped in a big lab coat, furiously waving his tiny hands and legs.

“WAAAAAH! WAAAAH!”

“It … it worked!” Artie gasped, breathing hard. “I sent him back. I turned back time for him. Wow. That was WILD!”

Nina raised both hands. She pointed up at the wailing baby — and swept both hands toward the battered front door.

Still crying at the top of his lungs, Baby Cranium went sailing across the room — and out the open door.

We watched from the window as he went flying over the trees, into the distance.

Then we all started laughing and talking at once. We slapped high fives and touched knuckles and did a crazy celebration dance around the living room.

I’d never felt so happy!

“Artie, that was AMAZING!” I cried. “You BOTH are amazing!”

Nina nodded. “Yes, we’re amazing,” she said. “But we’re also in trouble.” Her grin faded. “Do you really think we can ever be safe from the Thought Police?”

*  *  *

Jackson and I looked for the Lerner twins at school on Monday, but they weren’t there. After school, we walked to their house to see how they were doing.

I rang the front doorbell. We waited. Silence inside the house.

I rang the bell again and knocked. Nobody home?

I jumped off the stoop and gazed into the living room window. “Oh, wow! I don’t believe this!” I cried. “Jackson — look! It’s empty!”

All the furniture was gone. The room was completely bare.

We hurried around to the back and peered into the kitchen. Dark and empty.

“They’re gone,” I said. “Just disappeared without saying good-bye or anything.”

Jackson shook his head. “The Lerners were only here a few months. Guess they have to move around a lot.”

I grabbed his shirtsleeve. I read his mind. We were both thinking the same thing.

Will we have to keep moving, too?

We walked to the shoe store on the next block. Dad had given me money to buy new sneakers.

We walked in silence. We were both thinking hard about Nina and Artie … and Cranium.

Outside the store, I stopped — and let out a shocked cry. “Jackson — look!”

On the corner, in the middle of the sidewalk, stood a small booth bathed in a purple glow. A fortune-teller’s booth.

Madame Doom!

We hurried over to it. The old wooden fortune-teller sat in front of a red curtain. She was dressed in purple with a long purple scarf over her black wig. She leaned toward the glass as if staring out at us.

“Is it the same one?” Jackson asked.

“Yes — look,” I said, pointing. “The same eyebrow chipped away.”

Jackson blinked. “But how did it get here from the mall? What is it doing on the sidewalk?”

“Maybe it’s following us,” I said.

“Ha-ha. Very funny, Jillian.”

“Put a quarter in,” I said. “Let’s check out our fortune.”

Jackson frowned at me. “Last time, it said something stupid about a theme park.”

I gave him a shove. “Go ahead. Try it. Maybe it’ll bring us good luck.”

Jackson rolled his eyes. “Yeah. For sure.” He found a quarter in his pocket. He slipped it into the slot.

Slowly, Madame Doom began to move.

She blinked. Her head rolled back, then forward. One pink hand lowered heavily to her side. With a loud click, a small white card slid into the hand. Then slowly … very slowly … creaking loudly … she raised the card to us.

Jackson grabbed the card.

“Read it out loud,” I said. “What is our fortune?”

Jackson read it: “Take good care of your teeth, and they will take care of you.”

He laughed. “How lame is that? That’s the worst fortune I ever saw!”

“Hey, wait —” I said. I grabbed the little card from him. “There’s something on the other side.”

I turned it over and we both read the tiny black type together:

WELCOME TO HORRORLAND.