Chapter 14

“You know what’s for dinner?”

The bronze nails landed with three distinct plops in the gurgling Glop source. Far away, in the Witches’ lair, Spencer held his breath and Daisy, still holding the soapsud, did a nervous shuffle.

Things were about to get very bad for Dez Rylie.

“What’s happening?” Holga pushed forward to peer into the Glop fountain. “Why’s it taking so long?”

“Patience, dear ones,” Belzora said, though Spencer could see that she too was growing anxious.

The Glop went still for a moment, and then the fountain began to hiss. All at once, there was a burst of light and fire. The Glop source erupted as three items rose from its depth.

“Ah, yes,” Belzora said, reaching down and withdrawing the first item. “There we are.”

It was a wand!

Spencer felt a rush of cold fear wash over him. A combined sense of helplessness, loss, and betrayal struck him all at once. He glanced at Daisy, but she was frozen, her mouth wide in shock.

Belzora held the wand aloft. It was made of bronze, weathered and worn like the nail that had preceded it. It was twisted and tapered, just over a foot long.

By the time Spencer’s shock had worn off, Ninfa and Holga had also retrieved their wands from the Glop source, which was now back to gurgling in its usual fashion.

“Feels right in the hand, doesn’t it?” Ninfa asked, flexing her fingers around the bronze piece. Hers was straight like a thin pipe, with rings that formed ridges down its sides.

“It’s been too long,” said Holga. Her wand was the shortest and thickest. Grooves had been forged into one end, perfectly formed to her fingers.

It was over now. The Witches had their wands. Spencer was shaking his head, a sick feeling in his stomach. How had this happened?

“Boy!” Belzora shrieked, turning to face Dez. He stood as rooted as a tree in the hallway. She began to cackle. “You have earned a place at our side!” Belzora pulled Dez into a tight embrace.

“Yeah,” Dez said, once she let him go. “I told you the nails were real.”

“No,” Daisy muttered, barely hanging on to the large soapsud. “What have you done, Dez?”

Spencer gritted his teeth in anger. “We never should have trusted him! I knew it!”

“What now?” Dez said, giving Holga a high five.

“The surviving Rebels will be squashed beneath the power of our wands!” Ninfa cried. “We must return to the Academy at once. Summon General Clean and his Sweepers.”

“You know what’s for dinner?” Holga asked.

“Pizza?” Dez guessed.

Holga shook her head. “War.”

Daisy’s trembling hands closed, popping the surveillance bubble. The soapy film splattered across the room, shattering the image of defeat and betrayal.

“He tricked us,” Daisy mumbled. “Dez is a bad guy.”

“He must have switched the fake nails for the real ones sometime during the night,” Spencer said, recalling how Dez hadn’t slept at all. Spencer sighed hopelessly. How Dez had managed the deception wasn’t important right now. If the Witches were coming back to New Forest Academy, then it was definitely time to leave.

“Come on, Daisy.” Tucking his stolen jar of soapsuds under one arm, Spencer crossed the room and pulled open the metal door. He stepped down to the parking garage pavement, cautious of all the snake ropes still littered about. The knots seemed to be holding; the ropes were lifeless and nonthreatening.

Spencer drew his Windex and misted the wall next to the spot where Belzora had made her entrance to Welcher. It turned to glass as he took his squeegee from the belt.

“Dez must have dropped this,” Daisy said, picking up the bottle of bleach that had become visible.

“Not like he needed it,” Spencer said bitterly. He swiped the squeegee across the glass surface, waiting for Rho to complete the portal and welcome them back to the safety of the landfill.

They waited for only a few seconds before the stripe of sizzling magic transformed into a doorway. Spencer peered through the portal.

“That’s not the landfill,” Daisy pointed out, looking over his shoulder.

“That’s the Academy,” Spencer said, backing away from the portal. “That’s the main building right above us!”

“What do we do?” Daisy said.

A familiar face peeked into view, long white hair swishing as she whispered. “Quickly!” V said. “We don’t have much time.”

“Why are you at the Academy?” Spencer asked.

“There’s been a slight problem,” V answered.

“Where’s Rho?” added Daisy.

“Long story. She’s been injured,” explained V. “The squeegee was stolen. But I got it back . . . sort of.”

Spencer drew a pushbroom and stepped through the portal. He recognized the location better now. It was Director Garcia’s old office. If he remembered correctly, they weren’t far from the front door of the main building. It would be a straight run across campus, a quick flight over the Academy wall, and down the road until they reached the garbage truck.

Daisy followed him through the portal as V brought the squeegee handle around and shattered the glass. “Don’t want anyone following us,” she muttered, discarding the squeegee as Spencer moved toward the office door.

“Wait,” V hissed. “There are Sweepers out there!”

Spencer took a moment to slide his jar of soapsuds into his largest belt pouch. It was a tight fit at first, but the pouches were bigger on the inside. Once the bottle was stowed, he gripped his pushbroom with both hands, ready to burst into combat.

“Where’s Dez?” V asked, fumbling with a handle on her own janitorial belt.

“He tricked us,” Daisy said. “He gave the Witches the real nails.”

“What?” she gasped.

“It’s bad,” Spencer said. “The Witches have their wands.”

V shook her head. “Well, that really backfired on us.” She drew a new squeegee from her belt. “This should take us back to the landfill.” She crossed to a tall vanity mirror and swiped the squeegee downward, opening a fizzing, shimmering exit.

The new portal was completed, filling up the mirror across the office. But again, the view through the gateway was not the landfill they were expecting. It was Welcher Elementary School!

Professor Dustin DeFleur stepped away from the threshold, a squeegee in his hand. In a heartbeat, the Witches were there, standing face to face with Spencer, Daisy, and V, in Director Garcia’s old office.

“Hello again, dearie!” Ninfa gave a false smile when she saw Spencer. “I suppose it’s a waste of breath to ask you what you’re doing here. We’ve learned everything we needed to know from our little helper.”

Belzora stepped aside, and Dez appeared through the portal. Spencer felt a swell of rage building inside him.

“How could you?” he yelled. Spencer hurled his pushbroom like a spear, hoping to knock Dez clear back into Idaho.

It was sailing through the air, on a direct course for the Sweeper boy’s chest, when Belzora’s wand flashed out of the concealment of her black robe. A stream of dark dust spewed from the tip of the bronze wand, catching the pushbroom midflight and reducing it to harmless particles. Then the cloud of dust vanished, leaving only a musty smell in the air.

“Oh,” Belzora said. “You’re surprised to see what our wands can do? You haven’t seen the half of it.”

Ninfa’s wand spewed a gritty streamer, the magic dust instantly closing the portal to Welcher and leaving nothing but Spencer’s frightened expression in the tall vanity mirror.

Belzora put a hand on Dez’s shoulder. “Go quickly and summon General Clean.” She flicked a channel of dust from her wand. It struck the office door and obliterated it. The dust hung in the doorway like a curtain as Dez stepped toward it. Spencer didn’t want him to escape. It wasn’t fair that Dez got away without punishment.

“Sorry, guys,” the bully muttered. Then he stepped through the veil of dust and into the hallway. Spencer saw the open door as an opportunity. He would rather face the Sweepers out there than the Witches in the office.

Spencer grabbed Daisy’s sleeve and sprinted for the exit, V jumping after them. He was just feeling like they might make it when his head suddenly slammed into a solid piece of wood.

Spencer fell back, dazed to see that the door was in its place once more. The lingering dust from Belzora’s wand had re-formed the door exactly as it had been. Spencer only remembered seeing that kind of creation power once before, but it wouldn’t be possible on earth.

“How did she do that?” Daisy asked.

Spencer mumbled in disbelief. “Dust.”

“I think you’re catching on,” Belzora said. She twirled her wand between her thin hands, the bangle bracelets on her right wrist jingling. “Our wands are linked to a place of dust and raw magic. You’ve been there before. You call it the Dustbin.”

“That means we can un-imagine anything we don’t like,” Ninfa said. Dust issued from her wand, decimating Director Garcia’s desk.

“And imagine anything we do like,” added Holga. Her wand flicked around, a small spiral of dust leaking out and forming into a cheese pizza. It landed with a splat on the office floor.

“The wands magnify the effect,” Belzora said. “The magic is ours to bend and to shape. We are the rulers of the dust, more powerful here than we ever were in the Dustbin.”

“You were down there?” Spencer said. “You were in the Dustbin that whole time?”

Belzora nodded. “In fact, I believe you met some of our creations.” She raised her wand. “Let me refresh your memory.”

The magic dust swirled and a humanoid shape appeared. It was made entirely out of quilted toilet paper, with two rolls for hands and a vacant gap for a mouth.

“You will come with me for questioning.” Its voice was whispery and threatening. One of the rolls flicked out, releasing a streamer of toilet paper that lashed around Spencer’s chest.

“I don’t think so!” Daisy said. Her razorblade flashed, severing the toilet paper from her friend. Spencer followed up with a second blow, his blade slicing the TP mummy down the center and reducing it to dust.

“This can’t be true,” Spencer muttered as the pieces started falling into place.

“The TPs belong to the Instigators,” Daisy said.

“Don’t you get it?” V said. Spencer and Daisy turned in surprise as V strode over to stand beside the three women.

“The Witches are the Instigators.”