Sam caught the light at the crosswalk and ran as fast as he could past the school to the baseball field.
Away from the shaded sidewalks, the muggy summer air soaked his T-shirt. He didn’t slow down, even though moving fast felt like struggling through wet laundry. Overhead, clouds swelled in a sky currently free of goblin ships.
Before he made it to the top of the hill, the rise and fall of cheers reached him in waves. The noise sounded joyfully familiar: families rooting for their kids, having fun, and not being attacked by goblins. Still, he pushed himself to go faster, until he could see the baseball diamond and the field.
A small bounce house distracted players’ siblings in the grassy stretch beside the supply shed. A face painter had set up her table close to where families sat and clapped for both teams. The cotton candy machine leaned against the shed, awaiting the picnic. The benches were filled with blue-and-white uniforms: Mount Cloud’s team wore white jerseys with navy lettering. Blue Lake’s shirts were turquoise with white lettering.
Everything looked completely normal.
Suyi pitched a slow-breaking curveball as Sam approached. A Blue Lake player swung wildly, then dropped their bat on home plate and walked back to the bench as the umpire called, “Strike three!”
The Mount Cloud team cheered and high-fived as they ran in from the field.
Once Sam got close enough, he could read the portable scorecards on the chain-link fence: eighth inning and the teams were tied. He didn’t see a single goblin.
This was not reassuring.
“Tham!”
Bella waved at him from the bounce-house line. She had a cloud painted on her left cheek. “You almost mithed it! We’re winning!”
No, we’re not, Sam thought.
She spun, and Sam saw the right side of her face had a gray-and-white mountain, even though the closest thing Mount Cloud had to anything like a mountain was the small hill where people sat now.
“I came as fast as I could!” he said, his chest heaving. “Bella, you’ve got to—” He reached for her as the line moved, and Bella dove into the bounce house with Mason’s sister.
Too tired to chase her, Sam scanned the crowd for goblins, trying to think where they might have gone first. How far did they land from the fields? When The Plumbline had crashed in the park, he’d been too busy trying to escape a word hog to see where they landed in the trees.
The trees. That was the answer. He ran up the hill.
From his viewpoint, Sam could see treetops of the neighborhood park. Branches and leaves rose behind the rooftop of the elementary school, a mottled wall of dark and light green. Among the trees, although a little hard to spot, the crown of the big tulip poplar bent sideways much like a storm had broken its branches. The poplar’s big green leaves were mashed together as if something heavy still rested on them.
That had to be The Plumbline. And if that ship had come to rest there, maybe The Declension was nearby.
But none of the other trees looked similarly bent.
Where had Mason and Tolver landed? Were they okay? Sam’s stomach churned on pure worry. Worse, where had the rest of the goblins gone? He half expected to see prospectors lurking near the game and to hear the metallic sounds of word hogs running across the baseball fields. Instead, the Mount Cloud team cheered from its bench, joking and yelling. Parents clapped and called out encouragement. And the birds that usually swooped around the fields looking for spilled snacks still swooped. Nothing had spooked them.
Where had the prospectors gone?
The next Mount Cloud player—a sixth grader named Ben— struck out, and the Blue Lake players ran off the field. Everyone clapped and cheered some more.
“Tham, are Nana and Tolver okay?” Bella found him again. “And the pigs?”
Sam bit his lip, unable to give her a good answer. “Bella, I need you to keep an eye out for anything strange. Don’t DO anything. Just watch, okay? And if I’m not around and you need to tell someone, find Ms. Malloy. And DON’T say any important words. Promise me? Stay close.”
She hugged him. “I promise.”
Blue Lake’s coach asked for a time out, and as she knelt by the team’s bench, giving a pep talk, Coach McGargee spotted Sam on the hill. “Hey Sam! You seen Mason? She texted to say she had to run an errand and might be late, but this game is almost over.”
Sam shook his head. He saw Dr. Vane and his father approaching. “Not yet!”
“Having both of you miss the game is really hurting our team! Better not miss the picnic too.” Dr. McGargee went back to psyching up the team for the last half of the inning.
Sam winced. Coach Lockheart wasn’t going to be happy when he saw what had happened in front of his house. And the McGargees weren’t going to be happy about Mason taking off and not telling them where she was going. And Dr. Vane definitely didn’t look happy about seeing Sam at the game. At all. His eyebrows had nearly met his hairline, he’d raised them so high. And Sam’s dad was right behind him.
Sam tried to smile, but it only made Dr. Vane walk faster. “Sam! If you want back on the team so badly, there’s just one thing you have to do. Are you ready to say you’re sorry?”
Sam’s father nodded encouragingly at him. Bella clutched his hand.
Despite everything, Sam was ready. He’d have said the word a million times to get back on the field. “Yes sir. I regret—” But he’d barely spoken the word when he felt the familiarly awful sensation of a tooth being pulled from his mouth again. A smaller ribbon than before drifted on the air and disappeared. He heard the clanking sound of a word hog.
No. The goblins were here. Sam began coughing to cover the noise and his own alarm.
“What did you say, Sam? Out with it.” Dr. Vane looked mad.
Sam shook his head. “I said I _______, Dr. Vane.” Tears pricked at his eyes.
“Not again, Sam?” His dad spoke as if a lot was riding on Sam saying one word. Bella stared up at him.
Sam wanted to make his dad happy and to set a good example for his sister. But the prospector goblins had made that so difficult.
He had no idea how to tell his dad that. “I’m working on it. I promise, Dad.” He considered the one more ribbon still tied to his wrist.
“Ahhhh, not ‘can’t,’ Mr. Culver. A can’t is just a won’t all tangled up.” Dr. Vane wagged his finger and smiled at Sam’s father, but that expression fell away when he looked at Sam. “Can you imagine,” the principal said, “what would happen if everyone had to be more careful the first time or faced the proper consequences when they spoke rashly? Just think of how much more pleasant things would be.”
Sam’s throat felt dry. There was no way to be certain, but Dr. Vane sounded a lot like the goblin captains Bellfont and Geary. No. Sam wouldn’t say the word the principal wanted now. He couldn’t chew the last ribbon. That way, he wouldn’t lose another word to roaming prospectors, even if Dr. Vane turned up the pressure or his dad did.
Mr. Culver frowned for just a second. Then he turned to Dr. Vane. “Isn’t that a little harsh? A lot of people learn how to use language correctly by misusing it first.” Mr. Culver folded his arms across his chest, and then, with a sigh, unfolded them again. “It’s all part of growing up.”
“True, true,” Dr. Vane said. He raised both hands like he held great, disappointing weights and frowned. “Enjoy your picnic, Sam. I’ll expect you tomorrow. And I’ll see you in the afternoon, James.” He shook the Sam’s father’s hand.
“You’re not coming to the picnic?” Sam tried to keep the relief out of his voice.
“I have to meet with some important businesspeople about another project.”
The gleam in the principal’s eyes made Sam worry even more.
“Come on, Tham,” Bella pulled at Sam’s shirt. “Mom made so much food for the picnic.”
“One’s your favorite,” their dad said. “Barbecue chicken salad!” He still looked disappointed.
Sam smiled sadly. Chicken salad should sound delicious, but my stomach isn’t interested. And the park was the last place he wanted anyone to go.
His dad clapped him on the shoulder. “Sam.” He wore a Mets T-shirt and a blue Mount Cloud baseball hat. Beneath the hat’s brim, his eyes were deep with concern. “I don’t mean to press you, but with the school hosting the community meeting, I’d like to stay on Dr. Vane’s good side. He seems very strict, and I’ll continue to support you. But if it’s the matter of a simple word, perhaps you could help me out?”
A simple word. Sam plucked at his sweat-drenched T-shirt, wishing anything was simple. Mason’s mom joined them, to retrieve Mason’s sister from the bounce house. “James. I’m sure Sam will sort it out. And Mason too.”
“I saw her earlier. I’ll go find her now,” Sam said, eager to escape. “Bella, remember what I said.”
Bella nodded solemnly, and Mrs. McGargee smiled. “Thanks, Sam.”
Mr. Culver grinned and rubbed his belly, making Bella laugh. “Let’s grab some food!”
Both teams and their parents crossed the road back to the village together: a large blue-and-white cloud. Sam trudged behind, listening for word hogs and prospectors.
The park occupied the center of the village, about a block from Sam’s house. A covered gazebo sheltered two big silver grills, and several picnic tables sat in the shadow of the big trees—Anita said they were tulip poplars and oaks, mostly. The picnic tables were weatherworn and splintered, but parents spread cloths over the wooden slats. Blue and white balloons bobbed cheerfully by the tables and the gazebo.
Bowls of coleslaw, macaroni salad, and hot dog and hamburger buns sat on a long table. A few flies buzzed the slices of thick farm tomatoes and cheddar cheese. Sweating plastic jugs of lemonade sat on each table beside stacks of blue cups.
The whole park smelled like summer. It sounded like summer too, as the baseball team players lined up first for burgers, giggling and teasing each other. Coach Lockheart took his usual place at the grill, setting a row of patties over the flame. He congratulated each player on their runs and catches as they came through the line.
Anita grabbed Sam a plate. “You look like you haven’t eaten for days.”
Sam’s stomach growled, but not in a good way. To humor his stepmother, he took the plate. He was just about to reach for a burger when he spotted the nearly invisible prospector tap line glittering in the shadows behind the second grill like a spiderweb.
Sam dropped his plate. It landed unbroken in the dirt, but Sam didn’t stop to pick it up. He ran to the tap line and stomped on it. Hard.
“Sam! What in the world?” Coach Lockheart paused, his spatula raised.
“A spider—a big one.” Sam made a face and Bella and Mason’s sister, Spot, screeched.
Mrs. McGargee shuddered. “Oh! Thank you!”
Sam tracked the broken tap line toward the trees. Where there was a tap line, goblins couldn’t be far away.
Beneath the trees, the light grew speckled, then shadowed. When he tilted his head, Sam could see the shadow of The Plumbline, pressing on the leaves and blocking out the sun, right above him. He’d been right.
“Sam!” Ms. Malloy caught up with him. “Are you all right?” She held a plate of brownies, but she nearly dropped it when she looked up. “What’s up there?”
Ms. Malloy has believed me so far, Sam thought. But she also told me to stay away from the goblins, because she thought they were dangerous. And I haven’t... stayed anywhere.
He couldn’t meet her eyes.
“Sam?”
He took a deep breath, his throat suddenly really dry. “Goblins,” Sam said. “Bad ones and good ones, loose in Mount Cloud. And I need to find the good goblins, Ms. Malloy.”
“Good goblins?” She sounded doubtful, until she saw Sam’s expression.
“Mason is with the good goblins, in a stolen prospector airship.”
She sighed. “You went after them.”
Sam nodded. His frustration came out in one big whoosh of breath. “I keep trying to fix things, Ms. Malloy, but first, the pig got loose in my room, then I led a whole mess of goblin prospectors to Mount Cloud, and now they’re trying to steal enough fuel for their ship—and I crashed a goblin machine into the library.”
“Not the library again.” She looked very worried now. “How big is their ship?”
Sam pointed up and Ms. Malloy squinted. “Are you sure?”
He nodded. “I’m pretty sure.”
She gasped and pointed down at a shadow below the trees. “It’s enormous. And how many goblins, do you think?”
The two crews and their captains. “Fifteen, maybe, plus their scientist—a weird goblin with crazy silver hair.”
She squinted at Sam, tapping her finger to her lips. “Hmmmm. And they’re roaming all over? We’ll need to trap them. In a very big trap. I’ve done some research, but I bet you and Mason know more about catching monsters or goblins than I do. Think about all the movies you watch.”
The thing Sam liked best about Ms. Malloy, it turned out, was that she was really practical in an emergency. He and Mason had watched a lot of monster movies, some of which had traps. They might be able to figure something out. But he had to find Mason before he could ask her for help.
The clank of a word hog just behind him made him jump. “Don’t say anything, Ms. Malloy. The prospectors are hiding in the park, stealing people’s words.” Sam couldn’t bear to tell her he’d already lost one of his. Again.
Ms. Malloy looked around. “I don’t see anything.”
Sam didn’t need to see them. He could smell them just fine. No one’s words were safe here until the prospectors left.
If they ever left.
Above, the clouds were piling thicker in the sky and beginning to turn gray. Sam wished they’d hurry up about raining before something else went really wrong.
Ms. Malloy noticed. “Go, Sam. I’ll come by your house later and we’ll make a plan. Meantime, I’ll get some supplies to fix the library.” She hurried away as Sam turned back to the picnic tables, where Bella was still toying with the remains of her cheeseburger. Sam’s stomach turned over. “You’re not hungry either?”
She shook her head, glum.
“What’s wrong?”
“Dad and Mr. Lockheart are angry,” she whispered. “They’ve been over by the grill arguing for a while. About beautify-something. What’s that?”
Uh oh. Sam’s dad had relieved Mrs. McGargee at the second grill. And as he turned hot dogs, he and Coach Lockheart were having a heated conversation. The burgers and hot dogs were getting really smoky.
Members of both baseball teams quieted as Mr. Culver said, “There must be some kind of mistake. We wouldn’t have sent anything of the sort out. Especially not today.”
“The flyer implied you’re going to be doing more than a scoreboard. Beautification, in fact. Without discussion! That sounds an awful lot like you want to get rid of things that make Mount Cloud unique. I like how quirky we are. Especially things like our library. I thought you did too.” So this was about the presentation. Sam edged closer.
“That’s not what the flyer was supposed to say—I’m sorry. I do very much like the library. The presentation and discussion are merely—”
Sam couldn’t hear anything but the clanking of a passing word hog. The ground rumbled. His dad scooped the last of the hot dogs off his grill and dumped them into the trash can, too burned to eat. Sam saw a word ribbon drift, glittering, to the ground, then disappear.
Although he couldn’t see them, he could hear the goblin prospectors working the park, stealing words. He imagined their sacks beginning to fill.
Anita looked up from where she was serving seconds on salads—the barbecue chicken, plus a three bean, to the baseball teams. Mrs. Lockheart brushed past her as something jostled them into each other. The bowl tipped, and Sam caught it before it could spill too badly. “Thank you, Sam,” his stepmom said. But Mrs. Lockheart had walked away without saying anything to either of them. Like she’d done it on purpose. Anita blushed bright red.
The friendly summer picnic noise grew charged, like the air before a storm. Sam’s dad came over. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go home.”
Sam couldn’t agree more. He helped Anita pack up the food, and when Bella and his parents were safely away from the park, he called, “I’ll be right there.” Then he turned toward the Little Free Library.
Sam knew he needed more help. Now that Bella was safe, he had look for Mason, Nana, and Tolver. When you were looking for someone, you went back to the last place you’d seen them. That was—at least on this side of the portal—the Little Free Library. Or where the library had been.
When he got close to the Lockhearts’ yard, Sam couldn’t see anyone. But the oak tree’s upper limbs were bent in a very particular way.
He’d been right underneath that tree when he crashed, and he hadn’t seen or heard anything. But he hadn’t been looking up. That had to be The Declension.
Sam’s heart was in his throat as he tried to figure out how to reach the lowest branch of the oak tree.