16

“It was a foggy night. Thickest fog I’d ever seen.” Alistair MacAlister stared into the fire as he wrapped his short, stubby fingers around a steamy mug of hot cocoa. “Perfect night for ghosts.” Unfortunately for Jordan and Eldon, their host only had one green-and-red tartan kilt. As Eldon and Jordan’s clothes were drying nearby, they sat in their damp underpants.

“I woke up before dawn, sneezin’ like crazy. Dunno if it was the sneezin’ that woke me, or the strange squealin’ noises. Horrible, high-pitched sounds. No animal I’d ever heard. I checked on Haggis-Breath, and found her gone. Somethin’ was wrong. She’d just gotten home from the Black Sea, and had gone right to bed.”

“Hold up,” Jordan said. “The Black Sea?”

“Oil spill,” Alistair said. “She went in and slowed the currents to keep it contained ’til the cleanup crew got there. So she was dead tired.”

Eldon noticed Jordan’s confusion. “That shaft we came up isn’t the only tunnel in this cave,” he explained. “There are a series of complicated underground waterways, linking Loch Ness to water systems all around the world.”

“Only Nessie has the instincts and ability to navigate ’em,” Alistair said. “From here she swims for days underwater. Goes wherever she’s needed, uses her power over currents and tides to keep the seas clean and in balance.”

“What would happen to the seas if . . . she didn’t?”

The two Keepers glanced at each other. “You saw Loch Ness,” Eldon said.

“Picture the waters ebbin’ and flowin’ violent like that, but to the whole Atlantic Ocean,” Alistair said. “Without my Nessie keeping order to things, what you saw today would be a drop in yer cocoa.” He swirled his mug, spilling a small splash into the fire. It hit the flames with a smoky tsssssssss. . . .

“Maybe she’s out working,” Jordan said. “She could be in the North Pacific, the Indian Ocean, or patrolling the Baltic Sea or the Bering Straits.”

“The loch is growing more and more violent. They evacuated all the coastal villages. My Nessie wouldn’t let that happen. Something’s wrong. Something in . . . the spirit world.” His hand trembled. He took a deep slurp of cocoa, his eyes darting around the dark cave.

“I love telling ghost stories around the fire as much as any Badger Ranger,” Eldon said. “But they’re just stories. They’re not real.” He picked up his Badger Ranger official notebook and pencil. “Let’s get to the facts. You heard squealing noises?”

“Aye. Coming from right here, near the lookout. That’s when I saw the apparition. Thought he was mortal at first, just an odd little man, standing there smiling at me. He acted like I should know him, but I’d never seen him in my life.”

“What’d he look like?” Eldon asked.

“Weird old geezer,” Alistair said. “Barely a hair on his head, bit hunched over. All in white. Shiny white suit. And his skin—ghostly white.”

“Did he say anything to you?” Eldon said.

“He called me by my name, as if we were old mates who bumped into each other in the street. ‘Hello, Alistair,’ he says. He’s got this large cage on wheels, but covered up. Whatever otherworldly beastie he’s got inside is thrashing around, making them horrible noises. He looks like he might let it loose on me, so I grab me pokin’ stick. I say, ‘You let that thing out an’ I’ll poke it somethin’ fierce!’ He says, ‘I don’t think you would.’ I says, ‘Try me!’ I was sneezin’ like crazy, but I figured I could still handle this intruder.”

“Then what?” Jordan asked, his eyes growing wide.

“Then—it gets weird,” Alistair said.

“Then it gets weird?”

“He grins at me with that creepy, milky-white face of his—and pushes the cage over the edge! I rush him with me pokin’ stick, but he just steps backward, right off the edge himself. That’s when I see he’s from the spirit world. He just floats there a minute, in the fog, in midair! I can hear his caged beast floatin’ behind him, goin’ crazy, squealin’ somethin’ awful, no doubt because it realized it wasn’t gonna get to chomp on a nice, juicy Alistair MacDrumstick that night. As he drifts off, disappearing into the fog, he says, ‘So long, Creature Keeper.’”

“Impossible,” Eldon said. “You must’ve heard an engine, a propeller, something.”

“Just the awful squealin’ of his horrible beast and the ghostie’s high-pitched gigglin’. An’ the sounds of my own sneezes, of course.”

“Stealth chopper,” Jordan said. “Computer-controlled NOTAR blade-modulation system, most likely synched with a shrouded tail rotor. Military-grade.” The other two stared at him.

“I was thinking a hot-air balloon,” Eldon said.

“Or that,” Jordan added.

“This old man must’ve had something to do with Nessie’s disappearance.”

Alistair was suddenly on his feet. “It wasn’t no old man! It was a ghost! The highlands are filled with ancient spirits! This specter came for me with his demon-creature as a warnin’! He scared off Nessie, an’ left me all alone with a horrible curse!” AAAH-TCHOO! He exploded in another sneeze, then slumped back down and sobbed into his cocoa.

“Gosh, Alistair,” Eldon said gently. “There’s no such things as ghosts.” He looked at Jordan for help. “Isn’t that right, Jordan?”

Jordan thought about this. Two days ago, he would’ve said there were no such things as Skunk Apes or Loch Ness Monsters, either. Who knew anymore? Eldon kicked him. “Uh, yeah! I mean no. Of course not.”

“Then how’d he know my name? How’d he know I was a Keeper? Only a member of the spirit world would have that kind of knowledge.”

“Or a member of the Creature Keepers,” Jordan said. “Think about it. Who else would know to come here? How to get in? This had to be an inside job.”

Eldon shook his head. “It can’t be. None of ours would harm a creature—or threaten a Keeper.” He stood up. “Okay. Show us where you saw Nessie last. Her bedroom, right?”

“NO!” Alistair MacAlister was back on his feet. “You can’t go in there! You’ll get the ghost sneezin’ curse, like me!”

“Sorry,” Jordan said. “‘Ghost sneezing curse’?”

“Aye. The ghost put a curse on me. Why do you think I sneeze like I do all the time?”

“Because you live in a damp cave in Scotland, and always have a cold.”

“No! It’s the ghost sneezin’ curse! It started that very night! An’ it’s double-worse whenever I go into her bedroom!”

Jordan thought of something and glanced down. Stuck to his arm were a few strands of the mysterious silky-white fur. He picked them off and flicked them in the direction of Alistair.

AAAH . . . TCHOOO! Alistair burst into a fit of sneezes. “See? Even talking about it brings the ghost sneezin’ curse back! I say we get out of this cursed cave and don’t ever come back!” AAAH . . . TCHOOO!

“Alistair,” Jordan said slowly, “do you have any allergies?”

“Aye. I’m allergic to hares,” he said. “And ghost curses, apparently.”

“Hares. You mean like rabbits. Are there any in these parts?”

“Mountain hares are common to the highlands, but they don’t come around.”

“Maybe because you have a giant water lizard for a roommate,” Eldon said.

“Had,” Alistair replied sadly.

“Did Nessie wear any sort of fur coat that night?”

Despite the dire situation, Alistair couldn’t help bursting out laughing. “I know my Haggis-Breath has a reputation as being a bit of a diva, but she ain’t no fashion model, laddie! The only coat she has is her Hydro-Hide, but it sure ain’t made outta fur!”

“Nessie has a very special outer skin,” Eldon explained. “It’s the source of her power. Her coat is made up of millions of moveable scales that she controls with great precision—and great force. It’s how she manipulates the water. It also enables her to swim at superspeeds. She can even use them to reflect her surroundings, to help her appear invisible.”

“Not that she ever does,” Alistair said. “My Haggis-Breath isn’t shy about being seen. Makes my job a challenge but—” Sniffle! His big eyes were welling up with tears again. “She was worth all the trouble, and a million times more!” The redheaded Keeper lifted his kilt and blew his nose loudly into it. SPLORRRFF! “And she’s certainly not made of fur,” he said to Jordan.

“That’s what I thought.” Jordan suddenly bolted toward Nessie’s bedchamber.

“Oi!” Alistair shouted. “Where do you think you’re going?” He and Eldon ran after him, past the seaplane, around the deep shaft that was the indoor pool, and into Nessie’s bedroom. Jordan stood in front of the huge water bed, holding up a corner of the enormous tartan blanket crumpled on the floor.

“You leave her blanky alone!” Alistair shouted. “I crocheted that for her meself!” Furious, he stormed up to Jordan and grabbed it out of his hands. His eyes started to water, but not from sadness. His nose twitched. Eldon and Jordan stood back and gave him plenty of room. Ahh . . . aahh . . . AAAH . . . TCHOOO! His massive sneeze exploded and he dropped the blanket, stepping away. “Y’see? I told ya! It’s the ghost sneezin’ cur—” TCHOOO!

“It’s not a curse, Alistair!” Jordan picked up the snot-sprayed blanket and pulled something from it. “It’s a clue to who our traitor might be!” He turned to Eldon. “In my grandfather’s field guide to cryptids, there was something called a Giant Desert Jackalope. That’s a creature that’s half stag and half hare, right?”

“Yes,” Eldon said. “That’s right.”

Jordan held out his hand and showed Eldon a clump of the mysterious fur.

“I don’t suppose he has white fur, does he?”

Eldon studied the fur, then looked up at Jordan. “He’s not a he, he’s a she. And yeah—as a matter of fact, Peggy’s a sandy blond.”