Candy Shop War (42 page)

Two of the three spiders descended through the dark square on the floor of the custodial office, lowering themselves with silky strands of webbing, one of them carrying Diego. Wyatt uttered a few musical words, and the webs binding Nate and Pigeon fell away. The boys descended a rope ladder through the opening. The ladder was longer than Pigeon expected, and it twisted as he climbed down. Wyatt clicked on a large flashlight. Pigeon reached the dirt floor and moved out of Nate’s way. Powdery dust plumed up with each step, making the flashlight beam look almost tangible. The two enormous black widows waited silently as the third lowered herself into the darkness.

Wyatt descended last, the flashlight hanging from a belt loop. When he landed on the ground, he summoned two of the spiders with a gesture. Their spinnerets quivered, and soon Pigeon and Nate had their arms bound to their sides again by sticky webs. The Fuse jerked a thumb to indicate which way they should proceed.

The ancient walls of the basement were fashioned out of stone. On the far side of the room, part of the wall had collapsed to reveal a tunnel sloping away into darkness. Pigeon led the way with Diego, followed by Nate, followed by the spiders, followed by the Fuse. The air smelled so richly of dirt and stone that Pigeon could almost taste it.

“No heroics, Diego,” Nate murmured. “We know how it ends if you try anything.”

“I hear you,” Diego said.

“Stop gabbing,” Wyatt demanded from behind them.

The air grew more chilly the deeper they descended. Denny called from up ahead, “Who is that?”

“Wyatt,” the Fuse responded. “I caught Nate and Pigeon.”

“We can see the magic water,” Denny said. “Mauricio died when he entered the room. He turned into a pile of bones. Eric went in and became an old man. He can’t walk. Kyle’s already old from opening the door—I think the room would age him into bones like Mauricio. Mrs. White warned that strange things might happen to us, but promised she could fix whatever happened once she had the magic water. That’s the truth, right?”

“Right,” Wyatt said.

Pigeon rounded a bend in the tunnel and Denny came into view, holding a small flashlight. An elderly version of Eric lay beyond a stone doorway beside a rotted pile of human bones. Kyle leaned against the wall, breathing erratically. He looked too old to be standing.

“We’ll send in one of these two next,” Wyatt said. “You’ve done well so far, Denny.”

“I’ll go,” Nate said.

Pigeon wanted to make a similar offer, but the words were stuck in his mouth. He wrung his hands. “I can do it,” he managed in a small voice.

Nate shot Pigeon an insistent look. The look conveyed a desperate need to be the one who went into the room, something more than heroism. Pigeon realized Nate might have a plan. “I’m more responsible for starting this whole mess,” Nate said. “I want to finish it, not Pigeon. Besides, the dog might not react well if Pigeon goes in there.”

“If you’re volunteering, you’re more than welcome,” Wyatt said. “Just don’t try to get smart.” The Fuse held a rose up to Nate’s neck and mumbled a chant. His birthmark brightened and spread more, covering almost all of his face. The stem of the rose elongated and snaked around Nate’s neck, sharp thorns needling his skin. “If you attempt to drink the water, I’ll finish you before it touches your lips.” The Fuse intoned more soft words, and the webbing binding Nate’s arms to his torso dissolved. “Do this right, and maybe Mrs. White will show mercy after she regains her youth.”

“I won’t be holding my breath,” Nate said.

Pigeon peered through the doorway. The room was bare save for a black stone pedestal on the far side. Atop the pedestal rested an ornate golden goblet set with glittering gemstones. There was nowhere to hide. Pigeon could not foresee what Nate might have in mind.

“See you, Pidge,” Nate said, giving his friend’s shoulder a squeeze. Nate kicked off his shoes. Scowling, Nate rubbed his eyebrows. Pigeon thought they suddenly looked singed. Nate touched his elbow, getting blood on his fingertips.

“Get a move on,” Wyatt demanded.

Nate paused a moment longer, as if bracing himself, then strode forward. The instant Nate stepped into the room, he started growing taller and withering. Loose clothes became much too tight, the sleeves and pant legs much too short. Liver spots appeared on his wrinkled hands. His hair thinned and became a silvery white. He hunched forward, walking with a stoop. At least he could still walk.

Nate looked back, the thorny collar snug around his wrinkled neck. Pigeon could hardly recognize his friend. His face was longer, his nose bigger and droopier, his eyebrows bushier. Limp folds dangled below his chin, and deep creases marred his face. But the eyes were Nate’s, and the smile.

“I always hoped to grow old gracefully,” Nate chuckled, his voice deeper and more fragile.

“Get the water,” Wyatt demanded.

Diego whined. Pigeon crouched beside the dog.

Nate shuffled toward the pedestal, taking small, cautious steps. Upon arriving at the pedestal, he hovered over the goblet for a moment, as if staring into it.

“Hurry up,” Wyatt ordered.

Nate picked up the goblet and turned around, shuffling back over to them. Pigeon kept waiting for the trick. As he neared the doorway, Nate put a hand to his head and swayed. Steadying himself, he stepped through the doorway and handed the goblet to Denny.

“Well done, let’s get out of here,” Wyatt said.

Pigeon stared at Nate, watching for a sign, straining to guess what Nate expected from him.

“I’m not feeling so well,” Nate said, massaging his temples.

“Pull Eric out here,” Wyatt commanded.

Nodding, Nate crouched, grabbed Eric’s shriveled legs, and dragged him out of the treasure room. Then Nate sat down and buried his face in his hands.

“Get up!” Wyatt barked.

Nate turned translucent, became blurry, and vanished. The thorny stem fell to the ground. Diego barked.

“What happened?” Denny asked.

“Must have been a curse,” Pigeon said.

Denny looked uncertainly at the jeweled goblet.

“Doesn’t matter,” Wyatt said, crouching to pick up Eric. “We need to get back.”

Pigeon glanced at the goblet. It was so close! Nate had warned that spilling it would do no good. Maybe Nate had thought of a trick to pull now that his selves had reunited. Or maybe he had no plan, and was simply being heroic.

The Fuse raised his hands palms outward and chanted briefly. The three black widows shrank down to their original tiny statures. Wyatt stomped on them.

“Don’t get any ideas, Pigeon boy,” Wyatt said. “This is over. Don’t make me do unnecessary violence to you or your mutt. Come on.”

Pigeon followed him away from the treasure room.

*****

Nate number two stood at a window inside the antique store across from the Sweet Tooth Ice Cream and Candy Shoppe. He kept waiting to see Mauricio or Wyatt leave along with Denny, Eric, and Kyle, but a lot of time had passed, and he began to fret that he had missed their departure.

A
Closed
sign hung in the candy shop window. Nate had watched a steady stream of people approach the shop, jiggle the door, peer through the glass, and turn away in disappointment.

Before taking up his position inside the antique store, Nate had confirmed that the back door of the antique store was locked. He had circled the candy shop, furtively searching for an unlocked window and finding none. He knew that spells protected the candy shop from unauthorized intruders, so he had saved a direct assault as a last resort.

A husky bald man with a goatee shook the candy shop door. The man checked his watch and banged on the glass. Shaking his head disgustedly, the man stalked away.

Nate had been spying on the candy shop for almost thirty minutes. His hour had to be waning. If he was going to risk a direct assault on the shop, he knew it was now or never.

Since he had no money on him, Nate picked up a heavy bronze candlestick without paying and walked out. He jaywalked across Main and flung the candlestick through one of the large plate-glass windows. Huge sheets of glass fell, dissolving into shards and splinters as they hit the ground.

An enormous sound followed, like the blast of a ship’s horn, accompanied by a searing flash of light and heat. Nate fell over backwards, landing in the street and scraping his right elbow. Picking himself up, he approached the window. He used the sole of his shoe to try to push away some of the remaining glass. When his foot touched the glass, a tremendous shock sent him spinning to the ground. Nate lay on the sidewalk in a stupor, fingers twitching. He had underestimated the defenses of the shop.

After a few deep breaths, Nate sat up. Despite the violent jolt, no lasting harm appeared to have occurred. As he began to rise, Nate started to grow and age. His shoes squeezed his feet, and Nate tore them off with liver-spotted hands. Rising painfully, he hobbled away from the broken window.

Why was he old? This was not part of the plan! Had everything fallen apart?

He leaned against a light pole to catch his breath. Cars roared by on Main, indifferent to his internal anguish. Time was running out, and he could think of nothing useful to do.

*****

Out of breath and sweaty, his ribs screaming in pain, Trevor found the door to the school cafeteria unlocked. It was almost strange to feel his heart beating again. In the mirror realm, he had been able to run all he wanted without getting tired. In all his time there, Trevor had not felt his heart beat once, even when he had jogged a long distance with his fingers pressed to his neck as an experiment.

He dashed inside the cafeteria to the custodial office and found that door unlocked as well. Inside he discovered a square hole in the floor and a rope ladder. Hurriedly Trevor pulled up the rope ladder and tipped over a filing cabinet to cover the hole.

Trevor exited the cafeteria and checked the parking lot. He arrived just in time to witness the black Hummer driving away. He slumped down and a black Labrador approached him, nudging him with a wet, black nose.

“Diego?” Trevor asked, recognizing the purple collar. “What are you doing here?”

The dog had no response.

Chapter Twenty-One

The Goblet

Nate materialized on a side street not far from Main. Fortunately there were no cars speeding down the road the moment he appeared. His shoes sat nearby. Groaning, Nate picked up his shoes and shuffled over to the edge of the street.

He had three sets of memories colliding in his mind. Memories of giant black widow spiders spinning webs around him and of aging as he entered the treasure room. Memories of breaking one of the candy shop windows. Memories of waiting behind the mirror, staring out at his empty bathroom, hoping he would not be trapped in the frigid blackness forever.

It took a few moments to reconcile the different recollections. The incident with the candlestick and the candy store window explained how his eyebrows had gotten singed and where the scrape on his elbow had come from. Two of his selves had not felt the shock when he had kicked the glass—apparently only the actual changes to his body were universally experienced, not sensations. He remembered his panic in the mirror realm as his body began to age.

After sorting through the various memories, Nate began to feel whole again. He still had some candy, though he doubted it would work now that he was old. He tried to get a Moon Rock out of his pocket to experiment, but his pants were so tight, and his fingers so arthritic, that he failed.

All Nate knew was that he wanted to get to the candy shop to see how everything ended. He shambled along the side street until he reached Main, then turned in the direction of the candy shop. He waited at a crosswalk until the traffic ebbed. Many cars lined up waiting as he slowly traversed the intersection. He was hurrying as best he could, but his old legs grew tired so quickly!

After having paused several times to rest on a bench or squat on some stairs, Nate arrived at the candy shop. The window remained broken. The closed sign was still on display.

Through the broken window Nate could hear voices in the back. “Hey!” Nate called. “Hey! It’s Nate! Let me in!”