Darkus stood at the foot of Beetle Mountain.

“It’s time,” he said to the thousands of waiting insects. “Every beetle who can push, pull, or carry needs to take a mug and move it out of here and down the stairs. Those of you who are strong flyers, go down into the Emporium and help with the mug-drop into the sewer.”

At the base of the mountain, Darkus could see dung beetles were already half rolling, half pushing mugs toward the door, three or four beetles to a mug. “Guide the fall of the mugs down the stairs,” he suggested, “rather than carrying them. Once you’re in the sewer, you’ll need to start making the ammunition for tomorrow’s battle.”

“I’m taking the tree down,” Virginia said, lifting the butterfly bush in her arms.

“How’re you doing?” Darkus asked Bertolt.

“I don’t know. It’s hard to judge how much wood the beetles can eat through in one night,” Bertolt admitted. “But good, I think.” He looked at Virginia. “The floor of Humphrey and Pickering’s kitchen isn’t being touched. Nor is the supporting wall between the shop and kitchenette. That should stop anything falling on the manhole. We don’t want you to get trapped down there.”

“Relax—we’ve got an army of beetles on our side,” Virginia said, heading out of the door. “What could possibly go wrong?”

Bertolt looked anxiously at Darkus.

Darkus gave Bertolt’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze and nodded at the trail of beetles carrying, dragging, and pushing mugs out of the room and down the stairs. “This is going to take no time at all.”

As the night drew on, the initial excitement of helping the beetles and striking a blow against Lucretia Cutter became concentrated into an industrious silence, punctuated with serious looks and nods. Finally, just before dawn, Darkus, Bertolt, and Virginia watched the last mug disappear out of the door on the backs of four orange-and-black harlequin beetles. Humphrey’s bedroom was empty except for the stained pink armchair.

Darkus blinked back exhaustion. “We’re done!”

The streetlight outside the window flickered off as they tiptoed down to the kitchen. Darkus stopped to whisper to a circle of tiny rust-red beetles he’d gathered together on a work surface.

“Who are those guys?” Virginia asked.

“They’re powderpost beetles, wood eaters. They’re working on the stairs,” Darkus replied.

Bertolt handed Virginia a stopwatch. “This is for you.”

“Oh yeah, thanks.” Virginia hung it around her neck. “Time check. It’s five thirty-two.”

“Should we quickly check on the mountain?” Darkus suggested.

They all went down into the shop and peered down the manhole at the new Beetle Mountain.

“It’s like it’s always been there,” Bertolt said. “Look, they’ve already replanted the butterfly bush!”

“Do you think it’s a slightly different shape?” Virginia cocked her head to one side.

“It’s hard to say from this angle, but the beetles seem happy,” Darkus replied.

“They do, don’t they?” Virginia said, pleased.

They could see beetles scurrying over the surface of the mountain, securing mugs and plugging gaps with moss and fluff.

“Who said it was impossible to move mountains?” Darkus smiled.

“So”—Virginia sat up—“I guess it’s time for us to split up.”

They looked at one another, registering what they were about to do.

“Uncle Max will be waiting for me,” Darkus said. “What excuse did you give your parents in the end?”

“I’m staying at his place.” Virginia pointed at Bertolt.

“I’m staying with Virginia.” Bertolt blinked.

“Are you going to be okay here on your own?” Darkus asked.

“Of course we will.” Virginia thumped his arm. “You go get your dad. We’ll be fine. You’re not the only hero around here with a superbeetle, you know!”

Darkus smiled. Marvin was hanging upside down from one of Virginia’s pigtails like a miniature bat, and Newton was sitting on the top of Bertolt’s left ear.

“Go on, get out of here.” Virginia gave him a gentle shove.

Darkus called out softly, and a cloud of blister beetles flew up out of the manhole, followed by the beautiful jewel beetle who’d volunteered to be Novak’s friend. She shimmered all the colors of the rainbow as she landed on Darkus’s other shoulder, opposite Baxter. Darkus gave Virginia and Bertolt one last wave, then jogged off through the shop and opened the Emporium door out into the street.

“I brought you something for the battle,” Bertolt said to Virginia as they watched Darkus leave. He rummaged in his bag and pulled out a box. “Something with a sting in its tail.” He handed her a lighter.

Virginia opened the box and peeped inside. “Deadly!” she said, pocketing the lighter. “Thanks!”

Bertolt threw his arms around Virginia’s neck. “Good luck,” he said, letting go and then patting her awkwardly.

“You, too.” Virginia got to her feet, waving to Bertolt as he disappeared into Furniture Forest. “Right,” she said to Marvin, “we’d better find a comfy place to sit and wait for Lucretia Cutter.”

 

 

Darkus looked around, but the only sign of life was the light in Mr. Patel’s newspaper store. The mint-green Renault 4 was sitting in the middle of the road with its engine running. Uncle Max was in the driver’s seat, looking at a map. The interior light was on, and Darkus could see that the cream leather of the backseat was covered in giant Hercules and titan beetles. The bombardier beetles were clinging to the roof of the car, and a handful of the larger species of tiger beetle had chosen a perch on Uncle Max’s safari hat.

Uncle Max waved, looking uncomfortable surrounded by his beetle passengers.

Darkus and his cloud of blister beetles scrambled into the car.

A bus full of sleepy commuters staring blindly out the windows purred past.

“Pickering and Humphrey are fast asleep,” Darkus said as he fastened his seat belt and the blister beetles settled on the dashboard as he did so. “Phase two is complete. Now it’s time for phase three.”

“Well, then,” said Uncle Max, “let’s go bring Barty home.”

He slammed his foot on the accelerator, released the hand brake, and the car leapt forward with a roar.