Chapter 2

“How do I look?”

Spencer focused his shock and fear into something that might help. He needed to get home and warn his family! Perhaps it was already too late.

“Squeegee.” Spencer pointed a glowing finger at a squeegee leaning up in the corner of the closet. “The other one’s at my house.”

Marv picked it up. The big janitor would be familiar with this particular squeegee. He had opened a portal to the Zumbros’ house on many mornings when Spencer’s mom was running behind and didn’t want the kids to be late for school. Squeegees created an instant means of travel, but they only worked if someone swiped a matching squeegee at the desired destination.

Next, Spencer pointed to an item on a dusty shelf. “Can somebody grab that walkie-talkie? My dad keeps his on channel 14.”

Daisy grabbed the device and tuned it. She pressed the button and held it out for Spencer. He couldn’t touch it for fear of releasing the Aura power that still surrounded his hands.

“Dad! Dad! Come in! I need you to use the squeegee and open a portal.” Spencer nodded to Marv, who dragged his squeegee across a tall mirror in the janitorial closet. The magic fizzed and hissed a bright green, but the connection wasn’t complete.

“Dad! I repeat, use the squeegee and open a portal!”

The radio went quiet in Daisy’s hand, and Spencer held his breath. Then an image flickered, cutting through the magical fizz on the mirror and linking the two destinations. Spencer exhaled as he saw the Zumbro toy room above the garage. The room looked like an absolute disaster . . . which was just the way it always looked.

Spencer hurried to step through the portal, his shoe crunching on some scattered Legos. The magical entryway to his house had been formed in the large window above the driveway.

Daisy entered right behind him, and when Rho stepped through, Spencer was suddenly a little embarrassed by the disastrous state of his house. Then he remembered that Rho lived in a landfill, and he decided she was probably used to messes.

“Careful,” Marv muttered, hiking up his pants to step through the portal.

“Hold back,” Rho ordered him, a hand outstretched as Spencer scanned the toy room. “We need someone in Welcher to keep the portal open. Just in case.”

Marv grunted in protest, but he obeyed. Rho’s precautions were wise.

The Zumbro house was perfectly quiet. It was strange that Spencer’s dad wasn’t standing in the toy room. Whoever had opened the portal appeared to have vanished, and suddenly, the whole scenario was starting to smell very much like a trap.

Then Daisy squealed and Spencer whirled around in fear. But there was no danger. In fact, his friend seemed unusually happy.

“Oooo, Spencer!” Daisy fell to her knees amidst the toys. “I had no idea you had such a huge collection of Barbies!”

Spencer felt his face turn bright red. “They’re my sisters’!” he said, his voice a little more forceful than he meant it to be. “You can look at them later. Now’s not the time to get . . .” As he spoke, he realized what was happening. “. . . distracted.”

He had scanned the toy room and found it safe. But there was one place he hadn’t checked. Spencer’s eyes turned up to the ceiling just as General Clean dropped from where he’d been clinging.

“Look out!” Spencer yelled. He and Rho scrambled backward through the toys, but Daisy was so distracted by Clean’s potent Grime breath that she didn’t even glance up. She had moved on from the Barbies and was brushing the plastic hair of a toy dog.

General Clean landed silently in front of the portal. Marv’s razorblade flashed through the opening, but the Sweeper tossed a pinch of vacuum dust into the janitorial closet, pinning the big man to the floor.

Clean squared his broad shoulders, standing firmly before the portal. He was a hideous sight: half man and half Grime. His white lab coat was discolored from the yellowish slime oozing off his dark skin. His black hair had grown longer since Spencer had last seen him, and the tight curls seemed to hold a filmy goo. Clean’s eyes bulged, his snakelike tongue flicked out to taste the air, and a serpentine tail swished silently behind him.

The Sweeper’s fingers were tipped with venomous suction pads, and one hand gripped a Glopified squeegee. Spencer swallowed hard, realizing that the item in General Clean’s grasp likely meant that the Sweeper had opened the portal. If that were true, then where was Spencer’s dad?

“They’re gone,” said the Sweeper, his voice a low rumble.

“Where?” Spencer demanded, his glowing hands clenched into angry fists of fire. If he could get close enough, a single touch from Spencer’s left hand might knock the Sweeper powers out of General Clean.

As if anticipating such an attack, Clean reached into his lab coat and withdrew a dirty rag. Spencer felt a chill pass through him. That same rag had obliterated Walter Jamison, reducing the Rebel warlock to thin air.

“Your family is safe for now,” General Clean said. “Safely out of the way. They tried to put up a fight, of course. But your little brothers and sisters came quite peacefully once your parents were unconscious.”

“If you hurt them . . .” Spencer threatened, but his voice didn’t sound half as brave as he’d hoped.

“Relax,” said Clean. “Nothing but green spray. They won’t remember a thing about it when they wake up.”

“Spencer?” Daisy said, kneeling amidst the toys. She had a look of intense concentration on her face. “I know I’m supposed to be paying attention right now. But it’s kind of hard. So many dress-ups . . .” Losing her focus, Daisy dove headlong into a pile of costumes.

“Let’s get to the point here,” said General Clean. “You tell me where the bronze nails are, and I’ll tell you where your family is.”

Walter Jamison had died protecting those nails. If the Witches got them, they’d have nearly unlimited power through their wands. Rho gave Spencer a sideways glance. He was suddenly grateful that he hadn’t been trusted with that information.

“I don’t know where they are.” If he had known, Spencer might have spilled the secret to save his family.

“You,” Clean said, pointing a slimy finger at Rho. “Where are the nails?”

“How should I know?” she retorted. “And if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”

“Then the Zumbro family will rot with the rest of the Rebels,” said Clean. “Someone must know the location of the bronze nails. And if we need to, we will abduct every Rebel for questioning.”

“How do I look?” Daisy shouted from across the toy room. She had a Dracula cape tied around her neck and a shiny tiara on her head. She was wearing giant red clown shoes and a big foam hand that said “WE’RE NUMBER ONE!”

“I don’t usually make house calls,” General Clean said, ignoring Daisy. “But you paid a visit to my laboratory a month or two ago. I thought I should do the same.”

With the squeegee slung casually over one shoulder, Clean reached with his other hand into the folds of his stained lab coat, stowing his deadly rag. When it withdrew, the pale suction bulbs on his fingertips were gripping a slender plastic jug.

Spencer squinted at the label. It was drain clog remover. The liquid’s common purpose was familiar to him; it was a powerful chemical that would quickly dissolve anything clogging a drain. But Spencer had never come across a Glopified version.

With a single sticky hand, the Sweeper managed to twist off the cap while still gripping the jug. “You flood my house,” General Clean said, “I flood yours.” Then he paused, holding the drain cleaner outstretched. Clean glanced across the room at Daisy. “One more thing,” he said to Spencer and Rho. “When your distracted friend regains her senses, give her a message for me.” Clean’s Sweeper eyes fixed on Spencer. “My socks are warm and fuzzy.”

General Clean upended the jug of drain clog remover and threw it down against the toy room floor.