

LUCAS WARBUCK

# The Prophet's Call

## By

## Ariel Roma

LUCAS WARBUCK

The Prophet's Call

Characters, names, places, incidents and events in this book are

fictitious. Any similarity to situations, or real persons, living or

dead, is coincidental and not intended by

the author or publisher.

Copyright © 2014 by Ariel Roma

Smashwords Edition

All Rights Reserved

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any

form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,

recording, or by information storage and retrieval system, without

written permission from the publisher at

moodymountainpublishing.com.

Cover design by R'tor John Maghuyop

For information about special discounts for print bulk purchases, please

contact Special Sales, at moodymountianpublishing@outlook.com

First Edition

ISBN: 978-0-9879358-4-7

Published by Moody Mountain Publishing, Port Moody, BC, Canada

www.moodymountainpublishing.com

For Richard, who always believes.

CONTENTS

  1. Mind Twisting

  2. The Spying Game

  3. Jitters

  4. A Wealthy and Important Mouse

  5. A Dark Wish

  6. It's No Game!

  7. What Did You Say?

  8. The Book Frenzy

  9. In Like a Storm

  10. Running Wild

  11. Gobsmacked!

  12. A Trick of the Lights

  13. Black and Light

  14. The Disappearing Act

  15. Chain Reaction

  16. Between Split Seconds

"It was one flickering ember that was almost

smothered to death daily. But it just wouldn't quit...

it was _hope_."

1

MIND TWISTING

LUCAS WARBUCK SHOULD have had a very ordinary life. But he didn't. His life was far from ordinary. This would seem strange to people who knew him from the start because he looked like a normal boy who lived with regular parents, in an average house, who went to a typical school, in an orderly town. But Lucas Warbuck was not at all who he seemed to be. He was not ordinary at all. In fact, he even surprised himself at just how _un_ -ordinary he turned out to be.

He was a creamy-faced boy with an average build. The first just-about-twelve years of his life had been kind. Innocence danced on his face and played in his ocean blue eyes. The sun-bleached streaks in his hair spun like a halo on his head. Anyone caring to notice could tell at a glance that he wasn't familiar with things of an _unfortunate_ kind. In fact, quite the opposite was true. Up until now, his had been a life without drama or disaster.

In a nice sort of way he could almost be labeled a goody-two-shoes. He wasn't a threat. In a crowd he went mostly unnoticed. And for that, he seemed likable by most. So when Darkotika spies with long nosed tele-scopic lenses started snooping around the town of Target for him... and an unsuspecting kid is snatched right out of his seat at the movie theater. Well, you can see where we're headed!

Lucas Warbuck may have been the boy everyone expected him to be if it hadn't been for his amazing imagination and his extraordinarily nosy nature. Much of the time he lived in a world of dreams. But, even though he was a dreamer he was not simple minded. He saw things that most others did not. Not that they couldn't... they just didn't. Today he had been playing outside for a couple of hours all by himself. Well... he wasn't _really_ by himself. There was a shiny black bird perched on a fence post the whole time, but he had been so busy dream-catching a ride to an exotic adventure that he hadn't noticed.

He had already roved the Mojave Desert with his model dune buggy, transformed his gyroscope into a space-ship for a voyage around the moon, and went on a deep-sea expedition, fishing nails off the garage floor with a string-tied magnet from his science kit.

Untangling the rope-ladder vines dangling from the oak tree sent him on a dizzying tree top whirl through the jungle. He had even airdropped food-aid packages; pieces of his peanut butter and jelly sandwich, above a construction site of ants tower-craning a twig to build a high-rise complex over a crack in the sidewalk. He watched them carry away pieces twenty times their size. In his mind he saw himself strong and mighty, picking up his dad's car.

But now he was bored. He flopped down on the grass to decide what lost thing needed to be found or what wild adventure needed taming. The sun was smiling at the marshmallow clouds tumbling and floating by. He stretched long and looked way, way up. The grass tickled an imprint into his back. Curling his fingers into binoculars, his vision zoomed as far as far can be, and then even farther than that.

His mind was looping with figure-8 kinds of thoughts. The ones that go round and round and end up back at the starting line again. He was trying to understand how he could have become the boy that he was. He wondered where he was, before he was. He knew enough to know that he couldn't have been anywhere at all, before he _was_.

His mind twisted and whirled so long and so hard his stomach felt weird, like when he ate a whole bag of sour gummy worms in three minutes flat. He couldn't figure it out. But this wasn't such a bad thing really. In fact it would turn out to be one of the best things, because while his mind was mixing around, it was opening up to possibilities. And possibilities can lead to curiosity. And curiosity was nearly Lucas Warbuck's middle name.

So while his mind was spinning ideas he started to wonder. He wondered about this and he wondered about that. His imagination was really revving up when suddenly, he caught a glimpse of something in his mind's eye. And here's where it starts to get interesting!

You see it was right here at this very moment, this millisecond, no wait, this zillisecond, that Lucas Warbuck was about to be transformed right out of the ordinary place he occupied as a Middling.

He had been born a Middling but he had never been destined to stay one. His parents were Middlings and quite content about it. He was not. He was not content at all. He knew there must be more. Something in him said so. The truth was that Middlings were never supposed to stay Middlings. No. Not even one of them. But most of them did.

The Middlings were simple minded people. Their lives were routine and they liked it that way. They weren't all good, but they weren't all bad either. They hardly ever wondered about anything more than they could see right straight in front of them and if they did they would stop and hurry back to what they knew. They knew without thinking that what was popular would be right. They firmly believed that the road to nowhere was the right road because it almost always leads to somewhere safe. Staying safe was very important to them. It was comfortable being a Middling.

The average Middling didn't have the foggiest idea that there might be more to life than what they could see in their own little world. They wouldn't even dare to dream about kingdoms and princes and kings in realms of darkness or light, or of dragons, or talking eagles, or spies... and possibilities. And even if they had an inkling of a thought about any of it they surely wouldn't want to tell anyone.

Instead, they built their own little kingdoms between their ears and hid the tiny keys to their thoughts so deep inside their hearts that even they couldn't find them themselves. Well, most of them did anyway. But there was always a chance... a slim one. But a slim one was better than none. There was an ever-so-slim chance that once in a while one would search for the keys... and find them! Well that could spell disaster for one of those kingdoms now couldn't it? I wonder which one?

Squawk! Squawk! A nosy blackbird going nuts on the fence screamed so hard his whole body did a jig.

Uh oh... interference... right on cue.

Swoosh! Something whirred past. A rush of wind tickled Lucas's ear. The surprise ambush unplugged the superhero fantasy movie playing in his mind. He was just in the middle of an action scene. He was the mighty warrior... reaching for his falchion sword. The crush of battle was tight! Suddenly, it was over. The lights went out. The battle for truth was just turned into a cheap, dollar-store drama. One final freeze-frame and... gone.

It was really too bad. He was so close, so very close to being transformed from Middlinghood too.

His eyes boinged wide. His head side-flipped. Now his squashed thoughts were bursting. "Wow!" he exclaimed. "My boomerang's back!" he cried. And there it was, cartwheeling a bright red pinwheel across the grass until it tipped to a stop and flat lined just a few feet away.

With the sunniest of looks on his face he hunted around. How did it just drop here right out of the blue, he wondered. Suddenly he heard a voice, and he knew.

If it wasn't that it was such a stifling hot day and his wits were sizzling, he would have been startled. Well, maybe he was. It was the kind of day that melted the ice cubes in his soda faster than a snowball on a barbecue. He didn't want to drink it now anyway. Especially after a desperate mosquito looking for a place to launch a dinghy confused it for pond-water. It was the kind of day that even the flowers were troubled by. It wilted everything. Suddenly he was light-headed.

"I wouldn't have given it back to you except I wanted to nail you with it, you goof! Keep your stuff out of our yard," Lenny De Villain yelled. He was saddled-up on top of the wood fence that separated the two properties.

Lucas was rattled by him, but he was glad. His boomerang was one of his favorite things and he was happy to have it back again. Ever since it sailed over the fence and landed in Lenny's yard the day before, he was brainstorming for a way to get it back again without getting caught over there.

Lenny just sat there with his eyes glaring hotter than dual exhaust pipes on a dirt-bike.

The two boys were opposites in many ways. When he wasn't being nasty, he was a plain, dull-faced boy with a tall, stocky build. The first twelve years of his life had not been kind. Sadness toughened his face and scattered shadows in his eyes that made them look even darker than they really were. His titian-red hair spun like a thorn nest on his naughty head.

Anyone caring to notice, and few if any did, could tell at a glance that he wasn't familiar with things of a privileged-kind. In fact, quite the opposite was true. Already, his had been a life filled with drama and disaster.

In a not-so-nice sort of way he could almost be labeled a slime-ball. He was often a threat. In a crowd he made sure he was noticed. And for that he seemed offensive to most!

Lucas rolled over in a stiff, robotic motion and climbed to his feet. He scooped up his boomerang real smooth-like and shoved it deep into the back pocket of his jeans.

He didn't look to the left and he didn't look to the right. His eyes were on the prize, the back door. The old screen door hanging together with at least twenty coats of paint, the latest still tacky and smelly, looked more like a barricade.

If it wasn't for the fact that he bolted like a scared dog into the house he might have even looked cool. He made a run for it, scampering over the patchy spots of uneven grass and bald dirt. With a bounce, the spring yanked the screen door closed behind him. It banged shut. He was safe but it still made him jump, so hard his hair flipped.

He used to love living here in his big old red brick house on Covert Street. He had a really cool back yard and he even liked his school most of the time. But that was before. It was before Lenny moved in next door. Well, it was really before that.

The more things never changed the more they stayed the same, at least that's the way it always was, that is until Lenny's aunt Clair moved into the neighbourhood. Oh, everything looked the same alright; you would really need to be on-the-ball to notice that something was different, but it was. Lucas was sure of it.

It was weird. Even the bright sunny days sometimes seemed dark after she arrived. If it hadn't been that things continually appeared to have been running-on so well for so long, it might have taken a few more knocks to realise that ever since Lenny had come to live with her things were going from bad to worse.

If Lenny wasn't so mean Lucas would have felt sorry for him. Well, deep down he really did feel sorry for him, but he hardly knew it because most of the time he was dead scared of him.

Leonardo De Villain senior didn't only pass on his name to his son Lenny; he downloaded other pathetic qualities running through his family line that Lenny, and everyone else would have been better off without. Leonardo De Villain senior was bad to the bone.

No one knows how, because it sure wouldn't have been from Lenny, but somehow rumours got out that Lenny's lousy dad was rotten to him and beat-the-heck out of him all the time. So, he had been placed in a foster home in Chicago before moving in with his aunt Clair.

Anyone with the misfortune to meet Aunt Clair would be baffled by this one. She wasn't exactly the mothering type. No one knew what happened to his real mother, but judging from Lenny's past it was hard to imagine anything good.

"Oh there you are Lucas," his mother said. Thanks to the slap-happy screen door, every board and nail, and spider and mouse in the house knew he was there. Mrs. Warbuck barely glanced his way.

"I wish your father would fix that door," she huffed to herself. If it wasn't that she was in one of her fussing and dithering moods, she wouldn't have even noticed. The door always banged like that.

She was extra-busy scurrying around the kitchen tidying things up. Finally, she stopped to look at him.

"Good heavens, you have dirt on your face and just look at your pants! What on earth have you been doing?" she didn't wait for him to answer. "Hurry up and wash your face and change your clothes," she told him, "and put on something nice. Your Uncle Henry will be here any minute!"

So that's what this is about, Lucas thought. He had forgotten all about Uncle Henry's visit.

"Aw... do I have to?" he whined, but didn't push it. He was just glad she hadn't noticed the white paint freshly lifted off the screen door. The sizzling, sticky day might partly explain her mood, and why the paint was still tacky enough that he could twiggle and roll it around between his fingers into tiny balls.

"Yes, you do, and hurry up about it! For goodness' sake!" his mother snapped back.

When Lucas shuffled down the hallway twirling his boomerang he had already forgotten about Lenny. He dilly-dallied and stopped to rub at a finger-paint smudge on one of the wings. It only smeared more. Who cares, he shrugged. He was just glad his boomerang came home on its own without having to arrange an undercover operation to get it back. He gave it a fling. It sailed high, up, up, and over the upstairs bannister.

A clatter thundered from the kitchen where Mrs. Warbuck was anxiously clearing up the dishes from the chocolate cake she had just baked to serve their guest. The fuss surprised Felix who only a moment ago was sprawled out and relaxed, amused by every detail. Instantly, he hit the ground running.

He was already at top speed racing down the hallway when Lucas saw his streak of orange shoot past and bolt up the stairs. If the vacuum cleaner hadn't already stalked and chased him earlier, he might have been more tolerant of the clanging, banging kitchen racket. Now it was too much.

Clues were stacking up. He was a clever cat with super-duper senses. Such a kerfuffle on an ordinary day and a stifling one too, would likely mean an invasion on his cat napping schedule and even worse; it may delay his dinner.

Lucas rescued Felix the jungle-cat as a kitten. It was just after he made an old swashbuckler bullfrog walk-the-plank. Felix was the lost pirate treasure, discovered under the bridge in the forest.

You can't tell with some cats by looking at them if they're a boy or a girl. It wasn't like that with Felix. He was a striking boy cat, strong and handsome, orange everywhere except for the white star-patch in the middle of his forehead. His voice was low and rumbly. It was so much lower than most cats and when he meowed Lucas thought he sounded like a growling lion.

With the kitchen scare slipping from his mind, Felix's coon-striped tail slow-flicked to a stop. He was lounging comfortably on Lucas's bed. The lion-like ruff around his neck made him look regal and right now he felt that way too. He winked a series of slow blinks at Lucas through slanted eyes. Suddenly his charming routine was rudely interrupted.

His golden eyes rounded. His noble face was stern.

WARNING

Never Call Your Mother an Alien!

2

THE SPYING GAME

THE DOORBELL GONGED. Felix was like a stone statue. Suddenly he sprang from the bed. Slinking close to the floor, he followed Lucas as far as he dared, peeking down the hallway as far as he could.

"It's OK Felix." Lucas bent until they were face to face. "It's only Uncle Henry. You can just stay here and I'll be back in a while," he assured him.

Felix agreed. He would let Lucas go-it alone. He would hang back and wait.

Uncle Henry was Lucas's mother's older brother. Lucas didn't know him very much at all. The only thing he did know for sure was that every time his mother said he was coming to visit, his father would say the same thing.

He would say, "Your Uncle Henry is a pot head, turned religious fanatic, and he fried-his-brains years ago. If you can learn anything from him Lucas, it would be that you don't want to be anything like him."

So here he was again for his once-a-year visit. Always coming whether Lucas's dad wanted him to or not. His dad's groaning and lame excuses went nowhere. He would visit and do it nicely. His mom always got her way.

"He's really an amazing guy Alfred. You've got to admit there's something special about him," she would always say. And his dad would just roll his eyes and sigh knowing he was beat.

Today, Uncle Henry lounged in the living room easy-chair, feasting on the endless plates of cookies and fudge cake Mrs. Warbuck whipped up in her own kitchen bakery.

He was a missionary in Africa and always visited once a year when he came home to America. Whenever Lucas saw him he could hardly keep himself from staring at Uncle Henry's enormous sideburns. He figured he must not remember to trim them, because they were the size and shape of the state of the California.

Lucas liked Uncle Henry but was sort of scared of him at the same time. He was already a big man, but for some odd reason he always seemed to be way bigger than he looked. It was like he had an invisible force around him so you didn't get too close.

Lucas thought he was just imagining things, but actually, he was right. There really was an invisible force around Uncle Henry and he really was bigger than he looked. In fact, he was a giant... of sorts.

It wouldn't be too much longer and Lucas would be able to understand about invisible forces and giants and such. Well, at least he would begin his adventure of understanding these things and oh so much more!

This very unlikely boy, who no one would expect anything much of, was oh so much more than an ordinary boy. And he was about to embark on an incredible quest... believing the impossible, and expecting it to happen!

Lucas could see why his dad thought Uncle Henry was weird. He was, kinda. But he loved to listen to the stories of his adventures in Africa anyway. His imagination shot-for-the-stars when he talked about his jungle treks, and especially the time he came face to face with a gorilla! He talked about how thousands of people walked for miles to come to his meetings; how some were carried in sick and then walked away well. He talked about how the people were so happy when they heard "the good news." Lucas didn't know what the good news was, but he figured it must be something the people in Africa wanted to hear.

Uncle Henry was getting up to leave. Lucas was scrambling around the living room, trying to hustle out of the way of the big man but he wasn't fast enough. A giant hand landed on his head. It plunked down so hard his feet almost crumpled under him.

Suddenly Uncle Henry's voice boomed like a loudspeaker. "Boy... there's a call on your life!" he bellowed.

Lucas's hair shivered. A puff of hot air hit the back of his neck and his skin bristled with goose bumps. What? What did he mean by that? What the heck is a call, he wondered. He didn't care. His nerves were shot. He wanted out of there!

Past his spindly legs he watched his toes wriggling in his socks. For a split second he tried to think of something polite to say.... Nothin'. He only hoped the curve of his lips would pass for a smile. A speed-skating stride to the stairs made a way to escape.

Felix was still chillin'-out. His welcome back for Lucas was a slow, sluggish, "merr-ow." Lucas's eyes climbed the mountain of stuffed zoo animals and dinosaurs piled high on his bed. There he was. Felix rumbled out a purr as he stretched, lazing with his head resting on a tyrannosaurus rex.

It was the next morning and Lucas was lying half-awake trying to remember what day it was. If it wasn't a school day he would bounce to the floor. He opened his eyes, stretched-long and yawned. Yup, it was a school day.

After flopping his way to the bathroom, he brushed his teeth with his dinosaur toothbrush and spit a gob of blue into the sink. Before he combed his hair and splashed water on his face and everything else, like he watched his dad do, he stretched his mouth into a straight smile to check his teeth. Picking out some-thing to wear was easy today. There was a pair of rumpled blue jeans near the top of a small pile of clothes on the floor. He shrugged and figured they would do, so he pulled them on. Somehow, a neatly folded shirt hadn't made it into his dresser drawer. He tugged it over his head.

Dawdling was part of the morning routine. It went like this: A lean to the window... check for any falling leaves, scampering squirrels, buzzing flies or bees, fluttering birds, garbage men in the ally, or any other possible moving object; one last look around the room at the buffet of toys ripe for the picking; stop to twirl, dangle or wind at least three gadgets; and a final stop to pet cuddle-craving Felix who had excellent morning sidetracking skills.

If Felix would only quit rolling on his back play- boxing heavy paws to get him to stay, he would be on his way.

"I can't stay Felix," Lucas whined at him. I need to go to school now," he said. After finger-pressing the star on his head once, and scratching Felix's out-puckered chin twice, he finally shuffled out of the room.

Without Lucas there to distract him, Felix suddenly remembered his bowl in the kitchen. He decided to go downstairs and make himself cotton-candy sweet to Mrs. Warbuck. About now she should be buttering toast and creaming coffee. He sniffed the air; he liked both butter and cream.

For Lucas, the climb down the tall oak staircase was a rocky-mountain trek. It was early and he was still tired. Still, it should have been easy to notice that there was something lying on the bottom step.

It would have been easy if he hadn't just spotted his missing target dart surf-riding a crystal wave on top of the hallway chandelier. It had been holidaying there for three days now, ever since it launched out of sight.

It was too late. Suddenly, the step beneath him was a skating rink. For a split second he was mid-air, then... bam-boom!

"Yeow-ow-ow!" Arms... legs... everything, were stockpiled on the floor.

Felix instantly arrived on the scene. Even if he wasn't already trotting towards the kitchen he would have flashed to the rescue. The commotion was startling but right now he was brave. Lucas was moaning on the floor. Felix stood over him and gently sniff-checked him, meowed sweetly, and waited. Finally he was rewarded with a nudge. Lucas was flailing to sit up.

"What? What happened? What'd I slip on? he asked himself.

Mrs. Warbuck was sergeant-marching down the hallway toward him. "What are you doing Lucas," she asked. "Quit your fooling around and get ready for school. You're going to be late!"

If it wasn't so normal to hear Lucas thumping and bumping around she might have been worried. But it was normal and she wasn't worried. She figured he was up to his usual shenanigans and pranks.

Lucas picked himself up and looked around. What the heck? A book? Not just any book. A prehistoric dinosaur-age, battered book had tripped him airborne. A bent scrap of paper, also worthy of snubbing, poked out from under the cover.

"What is this?" He asked his mother. "It just about killed me," he cried.

Before she could even open up her mouth his thoughts were roaring like a 747. He was looking up at her and she was looking down at him. The weird thing about it was that she had her hair all tightly pinned-up in hot-pink curlers. Are you joking? He thought. Do you even _know_ how ridiculous you look in those things? He zipped his mouth tight, just in case anything slipped out!

She looked like an alien when she wore curlers in her hair, but he decided he should never tell her that. Today one of them was loose and it wobbled as she talked. He totally missed what she just said.

"You look like an alien!" he blurted... he couldn't help it, it just came out! Oh, no! What did I just say? He panicked. I can't believe it! I think I just called my mother an alien.... He scrambled to find a word that rhymed with alien for a fast take-back.

"What did you say?" she asked. They both looked at each other blankly.

_Really_? Lucas thought. You didn't hear that? Whew! That was close!

"What'd you say?" Lucas asked her.

She rested her hands on her hips and looked at him like he had just called her an alien. "What's going on in that head of yours?" She was a bit edgy. "I said you must have tripped on that old book that Uncle Henry left here; he said it was for you anyway. Before he left yesterday, he scribbled something down on a piece of paper and stuck it inside. He said you'd be need-in it."

Now she was starting into a rant, "It looks really old, and it doesn't look like a kid's book either. I don't know what business he had in mind leaving it here for you. He's an odd one that's for sure... a prophet is it they're callin' him now? Whatever that's supposed to mean...."

She mumbled to herself, "Sometimes I wonder if your dad is right about him...," then snapping back at Lucas, "...but don't you go telling him that either!" she said. "There's no time for foolin' around now, so go on and put it upstairs in your room and get down here again, and hurry up. You should be leaving about now!"

His mother was running through her usual pacing and clock-watching routine. She always said, you should be leaving about now, about ten minutes before he really needed to go.

He didn't know why she got so worried about him getting to school on time. He could honestly say that getting to school on time was the very last thing he thought about. Maybe if it weren't for her nagging every morning he would be late, but as far as he was concerned without even trying he could make it to his desk before the bell stopped ringing.

He swooped up the heavy old book, shoved the note further under the cover, and tromped back up the stairs, swinging on every-other post of the bannister. The purple dart caught his attention again on the way up. It was calling out to be rescued. It would have to stay put, stranded on chandelier-island for now. He would come up with a plan to save it later.

Maybe Felix was freaked-out too by Mrs. Warbucks outrageous hair curlers; it seemed that he had cancelled his breakfast plans. When Lucas got back to his room again he was already there warming up for gymnastics. He was stretching tall on his hind legs, reaching, sharpening his claws against the corner of the mattress. Later he would be doing balance beam routines across the back fence, vaults over the sofa and a very entertaining floor exercise routine. The comforter heaped at the end of the bed slipped and flipped to an even rhythm with his paws burrowing underneath. He was so fixed on digging his claws deep and pulling hard that he didn't pay any attention to Lucas. He would have gone crazy if he only knew how close he came to having his tail stepped on.

The book landed with a thud. Who knew how long it would be ignored... and why shouldn't it be? Judging the book by its cover it was duller than most books. It couldn't have looked any more boring if it tried. It wouldn't have appealed much to... well anyone really.

Lucas didn't know why Uncle Henry left it there for him and he didn't wonder about it either. He carelessly dropped it on top of his wooden toy chest next to one of the large windows; a window unstoppable at keeping a close snoop on everything going on, inside and out.

Besides being caught up with the bustling ant farm on the window ledge in the middle of a full-blown barn-raising-bee, he was already thinking about walking to school today. Well actually, he was worrying about it already.

Now if he hadn't hurried off right then and there, he would have had something to wonder about. Besides the mysterious book, what happened next was puzzling. If you didn't know any better you might think that what happened was just normal.

There might be a simple explanation if Lucas was still in the room, or if a big rush of wind blew in through an open window, or if Felix got frisky and pounced up onto the toy box, or even if Mrs. Warbuck caused a vacuuming kerfuffle while she tidied the room.

But none of those things happened. No one was there except of course Felix, but he was already catnapping with his mitten-paw sleeping mask, so he didn't see a thing.

Here's how the thing went down: Lucas's toy dragons were clinging together in a muddled, chaotic, mix-up in a box on top of the toy chest. He saw them when he dropped off the book. At that time they all looked calm. Suddenly, in a surprise move, the box tipped over and the dragons spilled out and scattered. But it wasn't just that... the largest one, the red dragon... he fell face down over top of the book! It looked like the big dragon was _worshipping_ the old book. Well... maybe it was!

The leaves on the trees outside rustled hard. A gusty wind blast rattled the oversized bedroom windows. Nothing went unnoticed today. Someone was watching. A black-as-night raven with puffed feathers bounced on a wild tree branch. The snoop's glassy, beady eyes were darting.

He had seen the big red dragon wobble then fall on his face. He thought he had given in _much_ too easily. It really was embarrassing. But it didn't matter; his job was only to report what he saw.

His name was Radger. He was a spy. His cover was a clever one. Who would suspect the ravens of being spies? Would you?

So the rumours turned out to be true. The dreadful book _was_ there in the boy's room, but he wasn't interested anyway and with any luck he never would be. It was no wonder; he would have to agree with the boy. The book did look dismal, and it was a good thing that it did.

Radger hovered close so the video-thermal imaging technology in his eyes could scan a clear copy of the room. In a series of quick-clicks, he had coded the room, zoomed in on the boy's darling baby picture hanging like a jewel on the wall, and of course snapped the collapsed, yellow-bellied dragon slumped over the nasty book.

He decided to film the feline too, just in case. After all, cats could not be trusted. His feathers ruffled. His mother had been taken out by one when he was just a chick. He hated them fiercely.

As a well-trained machine, he would keep his cool. Steady... just a few more...click, click, click. Done. On a mission like this one there was no way to know if it was a huge waste of time or if this was the big one; the story you could chirp about to your grand-chicks one day.

It was a wrap. Radger retracted his photo-optic lenses and relayed the film footage and the sound-bites to the crew standing-by at the other end. There would be another assignment waiting for him. With a flap, a squawk, and a whirl, he was gone!

Lucas trudged his way to school under a flurry of angry clouds rushing across the sky. He hoped it wouldn't be an inside recess today.

Indoor recess never went well. The teacher left a student in charge of the class while she was out, usually one of the brainy kids. Maybe flunking the last English test would come in handy after all. It settled the fear in his mind about being asked. He had nothing to worry about. Besides, whiz-kids craved being asked. You could just tell.

He didn't know why anyone would want the job. Trouble was the word of the day when the teacher left. He figured if it came down to it, today wouldn't be any different. But he was wrong. Well... only partly wrong. Yes there would be trouble that was for sure, but it was going to be very different today.

Up until now it always went the same. The bullies would take charge, tease the weak ones, make them do things they shouldn't, and no one would tell. They would just get away with it every time.

Lucas expected the worst again. Well... he was partly right. He was expecting the worst but not the kind of worst that it would turn out to be. This kind of worst was the worst of worst, even if no one was able to see that it was.

What would happen today would be the start of something that might be called terrible. The kind of terrible like if you fell through a trap door. And maybe you'd never get out again. Well, maybe you would and maybe you wouldn't. Yes... a trap... that's it. But that would only be part of it.

WARNING

Never Live on a Street With Skyscraper Bushes!

3

JITTERS

THEY SWARMED LIKE bees and buzzed like power-saws. The buzz rose to a steady drone. You'd have to look way, way up to see it, but the sky looked stormy high above the scene. Jet-powered ravens took turns dive bombing deeper down, then deeper again to take a closer look. Once in position, their sharp eagle-eyes armed with high-tech lenses, auto-zoomed and snapped and clicked a string of photos. By anyone's standards, if anyone could see it, it would have been bizarre.

If the bird squall seemed threatening, it was nothing at all compared to the tempest brewing down-under in the domain. Rumours were spinning wild. In a world closer than anyone would dare to think, a kingdom was scrambling. It was Darkotika.The chief wizard of the kingdom, Lord Caldron, was glued to the oversized screen in the Darkology Center. He flicked and twisted his stiff, straw-like mustache, exhaled, and then let out an almost audible groan of disappointment. "It's just that he looks..." he winced and struggled for just the right word, "so... well... so _ordinary_!"

"Maybe a little too ordinary?" someone replied weakly in a dry, low cackle. "We've been fooled before..." the voice whined and fell away. The two conspirators were stranded in silence. "We've seen _ordinary_ before," the scraggier one pushed some more.

"That's the point," Wizard Caldron growled. "We've seen it far too often and we've been burned. Not that being burned in this place is anything new." His quick rant was buried in a mumble, "but we need at least _something_."

"How do we know that he's the one that was chosen?"

"We _don't_ know you fool! Of course we don't know!" Caldron snapped and whipped his arms in the air. With the scrappiest of looks on his face he tried to go on.

He hated the taste of the name on his tongue even before he said it. Here, the name was a regular gag-trigger. Finally, he spoke slowly, pronouncing every syllable, "Mez-zi-ah," his mouth puckered, "wants them _all_ for himself don't forget. He wants them all," he repeated. "But will this one respond?" He was back to his regular rant. "Will he answer the call and become one of the chosen?" He rocked back on his heels and stared high into space.

"That's the question...." There were more words waiting but he stalled.

He hated the squeeze of uncertainty, yet, he was dazzled by the game. He was a thrill junkie. He knew that this time the stakes would be higher; it was just the way it was going.

Finally the words slithered through his sludge-stained gritted teeth, "It's much too soon to know yet... but we'll wait... and we'll watch him. It's just part of the game... but remember, _it's our game_." An electric howl turned into an evil rubber-smile and stretched across his strained face. Whether real or forced, his confidence was back!

If the cross-examination from the sky at 50,000 feet wasn't already enough, an enormously long-nosed telescope was now officially on snoop-duty. It tunneled through the stratosphere, snaking its way from down and under, to up and over. It slunk all the way into an unassuming back yard to snort and snap even more wishy-washy images.

As an extra measure just to be sure, the camera reared-up like a python to pan the area. Finally, it completed a rotation of the block, zoomed up Covert Street, down Clandestine Street and then back to Covert again. If one were riding on the camera lens, and someone likely was, the whole adventure would have been dizzying!

To others who knew more, lived more, or perhaps hadn't loved them so much, the houses on Covert Street might have looked dingy. People that didn't live around here would likely never see them anyway. The homes were well hidden from the main intersection where most folks passed by.

Up until recently it had been quite handy that these houses had such incredibly massive, colossal, cedar shrubbery to hide behind. But not anymore. The titanic hedging threatened to sink Covert Street into a sea of people. A new town councilman with a snout for sniffing out the sensational announced that the shrubs could be, and really should be, added to the list of important Wonders of the World.

To the town folks the multi-level cedars were just part of the scenery and no one except the councilman had ever even had a fleeting thought that they were anything but normal.

In fact to them, the towering skyscraper bushes were small, barely there at all, because the place _everyone_ raved about was across the street. The giant, nonstop spinning coffee cup wobbling on an oversized cracked saucer, snorting steam every hour on the hour, was the adored landmark in the town of Target. It was the home of, "Waddlemore's Waffle House," right on the corner where Covert crossed Clandestine Street.

The town of Target was so dull it was actually peculiar. When the Middlings moved into a neighbourhood they almost always wanted to live on a dead end street. They believed that life on a dead end street was predictable and safe and quiet. They liked that there was very little traffic and everyone knew their neighbours. Lucas's house was second from the end of his street and Lenny's was the last one, right next to what appeared to be a very lovely forest.

The forest was not too wide but it stretched out along a river bed that cut through the town. In the spring time, the water in the river rose high as the snow runoff from the mountains melted and rushed down into the valley's rivers and streams. The school was only a hop-skip-and-a-jump from the other side of it.

The shortest way to get to the school from this side of town was to cut through the woods. The forest floor was cushioned by a bed of squished leaves. Ancient oak trees with far reaching limbs stood tall with blankets of ivy surrounding their feet. Like ladies dressed up fancy with silk scarves, they looked rich and graceful with their branches draped in a delicate Spanish moss... well, most of the time they looked like that. Especially when the sun was shining and all was going well. But... they could be fickle. Sometimes they were downright moody in fact. You could even say angry and mean. It was like they were trying to be nice but sometimes couldn't help looking cranky. And sometimes cranky led to out-and-out scary.

Through the woods there was a well-worn path that led from one side to the other and there were other paths too. Along these, roots and brambles eagerly reached from both sides to catch a straying foot or a leg. Some of these paths lured curious foot-traffic into thicker and darker areas of the woodlot where the tree branches and foliage linked together to keep the sun out. On the brightest of sunshiny days the trees in this area refused to let even a splinter of a sunbeam in.

The shortcut to school meant crossing a narrow part of the river over Hawk's Bridge. It was a popular gathering spot anytime, but especially on the hot sultry days. The kind where your clothes stick like they've been glued on and just breathing the air is like inhaling steam. Some days were wild with overexcited kids testing the limits of fun in the surging water-rush or the still-pools trapped inside the rocks. But today wasn't one of those days. It would be quiet now.

Lucas would have hated to admit it but every time he got close to Lenny's place the auto-pilot light inside of him flicked a switch. Today, just like every other day, he rocketed past in a hurry.

It was hard to figure, but there was something weird about the house next door ever since Lenny's aunt moved in two years earlier. A bad mood moved in with her and hung around the place like a stinky smog, and that was even before Lenny got there. Now that he was there it was almost nail-biting scary.

Lucas's wits must have been as sharp as glass when he met Lenny's aunt Clair a few days after she moved in. "I think she's a witch," he told his mother.

"Oh Lucas," his mother laughed, "Clair Voyance isn't a witch. Don't be silly. You have such an imagination. Don't you be saying such things now; you'll get yourself into trouble, and us too!"

"Well, have you seen her?" Lucas wondered how his mother knew her name already.

"No, not yet. I tried to meet her when I took her mail over. A letter was delivered here by mistake. I thought she was home but no one answered the door." She rambled on, "I think I saw the curtains move... it could have been a fan... it's been hot out. Just never mind your name calling. That imagination of yours is gonna get you into trouble one of these days," she warned him again.

No matter what his mom said, he knew what he saw. He wasn't in a habit of name-calling the neighbours. If he had to pinpoint what it was about her that made her witchy, he couldn't.

He couldn't see why anyone would want to live in that old house anyway. After Mr. Grumble moved away the place was hauntingly quiet and empty for a long time. The drab white paint was twenty two shades of grey and peeling. The sagging shutters flapped in a panic whenever it stormed. Lucas guessed they must have scared the daylights out of the front porch boards, so bad they wobbled and shuddered whenever anyone stepped on them. Out of the blue, a moving truck pulled up one day.

"Take these biscuits to the new lady next door Lucas," his mother had said. "They're just fresh out of the oven. We need to be neighbourly." She wrapped them in waxed paper and tucked a welcome note into the fold.

"Aw mom, do I have to? Why don't you go?" He had tried get out of it but his mother won out. She would go another time. Today, the biscuits needed to be delivered before their freshness wore off.

The moment his foot hit the step up the sidewalk to the house he had the jitters. By the time the door opened he was ready to run. He couldn't explain it and he didn't know why, but there was a creepy feeling about the place. When he came face to face with her, it was flat-out startling!

A sharp faced woman with cold eyes, dull like pewter, stared out from between the creaking door crack. Her zebra-striped hair hung limp.

His eyes were kaleidoscoping out of control, and as much as he tried to keep it closed, his mouth dropped open wide enough to drive a monster-truck through it. He mumbled something that he still can't remember and offered the biscuits his mother had so nicely wrapped. If it weren't that his feet were already cemented to the porch on the ends of two lead-poles, he would have jumped to the moon when the door squeaked open further and her spidery fingers swiped the biscuits.

The door did a slow-mo bump-shut and a half-split second later he was home again. If anyone asked, he would have said he was pretty sure that his feet caught up with him a full three minutes later!

"Ribbit, ribbit."

There it was again. It was the same big fat frog, sitting under the same big fat broken down fence log. A whopping black fly buzzing past was suddenly on the lunch menu. His long sticky tongue flipped out, unrolled like a welcome mat, and snapped it up.

The frog's bulgy eyes shut tight and sunk like a submarine. They rolled way back into his head to push the la-crème-de-la fly-pie down into his jelly-belly. A moment later, with a blink of triumph he was wide eyed and waiting for his next victim. The crackling rumble from the stuffed amphibian marked the territory in front of the Voyance house. It was like a buzzer set off every time he passed by reminding him he was in the ugly zone. Lucas was sure it was taunting him and it made him mad. If he was the kind boy that was mean he'd want to poke it with a stick. But he wasn't that kind of boy. And he never ever wondered if he should be.

He did wonder though why there were so many frogs living there now. They all ogled and glared. All with bronze colored eyes and perfectly round pupils.

It was strange. They had arrived in the neighbourhood around the same time Lenny's aunt Clair did. The quirky timing made him wonder if she had brought them all with her; it's possible, he thought.

He remembered seeing some strange stuff coming off the moving trucks and going into the house the day she moved in. He wondered if maybe one of those army green cargo trunks carried in an army of frogs. It sure seemed like an army of something came with her. She was one weird, witchy lady.

Lucas was glad that most of the frogs had decided to live at Lenny's house and not his own. The trouble was that he could still hear a chorus of croaking and glubbing when he had his bedroom windows open.

The creepy symphony began every night around dusk. The only thing he could do to dull the sound was shut his windows. Even though the summer nights steamed and baked his room so that he was shiny-sweaty, he often did.

Having just peeled past Lenny's place, Lucas was on his way to school. The wind rushed him like a linebacker and he had to use all of his might to push his way through it. Not only did the sky seem angry but so did the trees. The leaves overhead swished and the branches bobbed up and down fiercely.

A flock of mad ravens flying past were freaking-out. The day was already weird.

He had just crossed over Hawk's Bridge and now he could see his good friend Sloane up ahead. He yelled hard to her. She kept going. The wind whipped his voice right back. It was no use. He was just yelling at the wind and it didn't care at all about him. Worse than that, it was a bully, sucking the breath right out of his mouth. He was alone.

Even though he usually did anyway, he never liked walking to school alone. Ever since Lenny had moved in with his aunt last summer it had been worse. He had already tried out different tactics to avoid running into Lenny. One of them went like this: Leave for school early in a panic sweat; slip out the backdoor and sneak along the path to the train tracks; look over-shoulder twenty times a minute; hope like heck he never noticed. One day he did.

The railway tracks crossed over a trestle bridge where the river went down into a gorge. It was a riskier, tougher way to go but some days, when fear was the choke-out kind, it seemed worth it. At least for a while anyway... until Lenny caught on. Out of the blue, one day, Lenny was crouched down in the weeds under the tracks. Lucas's heart still hammered when he thought about it. Now, he was never really sure which way to go.

There were lots of kids but their houses were spread out over several blocks so it wasn't easy to find someone to walk with. Sometimes they would meet up along the way. Today, Sloane would have needed radar-ears to hear him calling her. Still, he was glad that he could see her up ahead.

If Lucas thought the sky and the trees seemed angry, he was right. Well, not _really_ the sky and the trees. What he didn't know and couldn't know, at least not _yet_ anyway, was that someone, or shall we say something, was angry. In fact, there was a whole world out there that was angry. It was a world that average people paid little attention to. Well at least not in any serious way. But that didn't matter at all because it was as real-as-real could be anyway.

It's no surprise that hardly anyone noticed it. It was a hidden world that _liked_ being hidden. It was a secret world that sometimes appeared in the imagination of some boys and girls, but was often quickly forgotten again. It may be worth wondering if it was somehow erased from their memory. Hmmm... that's worth considering. Anyway, it was very good at staying a secret.

WARNING

Look-out for the SnaggleTooth, and the Chop-Stick Lips!

4

A WEALTHY & IMPORTANT MOUSE

LENNY DE VILLAIN HAD just left the principal's office after talking his way out of a notorious playground incident when he noticed a black streak glide past the school windows. He was a die-hard roving snoop. It never did take much to hook him on a mystery. He rubbernecked. Looping back to have a look, he punched one of the oversized front doors propping it open with his foot.

"Wow!" he lit up.

An elegant car, coasting on air was rolling to a stop only a few yards away. It looked like a runway-model of the auto world. A fresh whack-of-dazzle conked him in the head. What was it doing here he wondered, and with rocketing curiosity, who was inside? The fancy cars in Chicago had always enchanted him. Only important people got to ride around in these classy cars he reminded himself. How could one of these turn up in a sleepy town like this? he wondered.

Maxx Buckslinger's driver ignored the sign that said cars were not permitted this far onto the school grounds. He drove the shining black Bentley right up to the main doors anyway. Inside, a young boy's hand gripped the door handle. He was more than anxious for the car to stop. He didn't want the limelight that he was used to riding under to follow him here. That meant losing his car and driver in a full-tilt rush.

"You don't need to come in with me," the boy's voice was tense. "I can go in by myself," he said firmly to the driver, knowing his mother gave strict orders otherwise.

"Now Maxx," Charles shook his head, gently reasoning, "you know I'm supposed to go in with you," he argued.

Maxx looked away, but insisted, "They know I'm coming. I'll be fine. I won't tell that you didn't come in."

Charles sighed. He knew there was no use in getting into an argument with the boy. He understood where he was coming from. There was nothing much to do anyway except make sure he got inside alright. He decided that he could do that watching from the car window.

"Well ok," he unwillingly agreed. He was a smart kid and Charles knew he'd be fine. Still, he felt guilty about not following exact orders. He prided himself in providing excellent, dependable service to the family.

Maxx was nearly out of earshot when the front car window zipped all the way down. Charles called out to him asking if he had his puffer with him. Maxx turned back with a nod. "I'll be back for you later then," Charles yelled, cheering Maxx on with a wink. "Have a nice day," he said. Cutting Maxx off from the world he knew best, his safe-place, the window slid up again smooth as glass. Charles watched, carefully looking through the shadow-like tinting until Maxx disappeared behind the heavy double doors.

From the very first moment, Lenny adored the luxurious car. When the back door suddenly opened for the tall dark haired boy to get out, he held his breath. In his eyes he was a movie-star, dressed to the nines in what you could tell at a glance were fine, expensive clothes. He was in awe at the sophisticated style the boy had, swinging the strap of a leather designer messenger school bag over his shoulder, leaning in to leave orders for the driver, effortlessly closing the door.

Lenny was thrilled that he was in the right place at the right time. His ear-to-ear smile was as wide as the door he swung open to welcome the boy inside. It would have been impressive that he offered his hand like a gentleman if it wasn't so odd for a boy his age, and especially coming from him. He even surprised himself. If the other boy found it strange too, he hid it well. He smiled politely and accepted his hand with a shake.

Lenny was rarely caught by surprise or jabbed by a sudden air-head impulse. But maybe it was something else too. He was so used to switching gears that he hardly knew when he was doing it. Could it be that on impulse he moved into his usual game of cat-and-mouse without giving it a thought? A wealthy and important mouse? A sly and very hungry cat? These tactics came natural to him... or maybe supernaturally to him?

Even a brush with wealth and importance was good reason to announce the day as the happiest one ever. Suddenly Lenny had the manners of a socialite. He formally introduced himself, found out the rich boy's name was Maxx, and offered to show him around the school. First stop was the office to announce his arrival to the school secretary, who by the way, was blown away by the new Lenny. The debonair Lenny. Who only minutes ago was standing in the exact same spot sparring with Principal Lemon like a trigger-happy gun-slinger. And now, Lenny's eyes beamed like stars when the secretary asked him if he would take Maxx to his classroom and they learned that they were in the same one.

After a quick tour of the school, there would be a moment in the spotlight. A master of ceremonies kind of moment, when he introduced Maxx to the class. There wasn't a second that he didn't suck completely dry.

"There's an empty seat over there for you," Lenny pointed to a desk.

"It doesn't already belong to someone?" Maxx asked.

With a twinkle eyed look, the kind that put a sparkle on his snaggle tooth, Lenny smiled big and just shook his head.

Charles stayed in the car just like Maxx wanted him to. He didn't take his eyes off the boy until the big school doors opened wide and then boomed shut again swallowing him out of sight. That was only after he saw a freckled faced, titian-red haired boy open the door for Maxx and let him inside. Still, he didn't leave. He just sat there and waited. Finally, he put the car into gear and it floated back to the main road, traveling to the Buckslinger estate on the edge of town.

Lucas finally reached the school yard. It was empty. The kids were already inside. He had just missed the bell. The metal green doors felt heavier than usual and clanged shut way louder than they needed to.

The smell inside the school was always the same. It could have been an aroma-cocktail of kids and the whiffery-bouquets they brought in with them, books, paper, and packed lunches. On the days when the photo-copy machine spit out a mountain of copies, the ink-potion perfume spritzed the hallways and classrooms. Whatever it was, it was the only place on earth that ever smelled this way and you could tell you were in a school with your eyes closed. This morning, the forever revolving outer doors kicked in wind-rushes of fresh air. They barged through the hallways interfering with the normal, weirdly- soothing smell.

Lucas's steps echoed in the empty hall. His classroom door was straight ahead. He zipped off his wind-breaker, hung it on his hook, pulled off his rain boots and dropped them underneath. The short rain drizzle hadn't made them worth wearing today but his mother had insisted, and now his socks, flopping like noodles were pulled halfway off. He didn't notice.

Instead, his eyes watered at the possibility of conking-out right then and there. His whole focus was on the closed, airplane-hanger sized classroom door and the billboard-sized face in the window. And it wasn't Miss Goodwin's face. It was Lenny!

Lucas's back iced-over and his legs turned to rubber. He didn't want to... but he reached for the doorknob anyway. It was like grabbing a hot potato. Now he wished he had listened to his mother. He was late and getting later by the minute, and how was he going to get to his desk now?

Lenny made a beasty face through the glass and held the doorknob tight. There he was... armed and dangerous, as tricky as a fly trap, ready to torment him. Lucas squeezed the handle so hard his knuckles turned chalky-white. He twisted and tugged with all his might. His chicken-greased hand slipped off the knob again and again. Lenny just showed his snaggle tooth in a fake nasty smile. His snaggle tooth looked a lot like a fang. Whenever Lucas looked at him, there was no way around it, his eyes always seemed to get stuck on that tooth!

On days like this one, if you think things can't get much worse, sometimes they do. He dreaded the sound. Heavy, hollow footsteps were hurrying. They stopped. He was caught!

A pudgy hand poking out of a yellow shirt sleeve reached past for the door handle. Lucas's eyes grew two sizes by the time he looked up, then ping-ponged off the pair of eyes slamming into his.

Principal Lemon was looking down at him with his caterpillar eyebrows arched. Lucas was just ready to sputter something about Lenny locking him out of the classroom, but suddenly, Lenny was gone. His excuse disappeared like words on a brushed blackboard. He didn't know what to say now, and he was really late.

Principal Lemon had a sour look on his face. He always looked the same. He was a pot-bellied, yellow-shirted man, with bushy eyebrows forever looking like two caterpillars that were ready to fight one another. His lips stretched together in a tight line, even when he talked.

The students at Target Middle School were always on edge whenever he was around. But they didn't need to be. People are not always the way they seem.

Principal Lemon couldn't help it that he looked stern. He actually had a very sunny nature. He was really a very nice man. In fact, he was the nicest, kindest man in all of Paradox County.

"Ahumm..." Lucas heard Principal Lemon clear his throat. It was his way of silently scolding him for being late.

Finally, with his lips like two chop-sticks clapping together, he started to talk. "Well Lucas since you're here _anyway_ , I guess you will do just fine."

Just fine? I'll do just _fine_? Lucas fought off the fascinating, almost hypnotic power of Principal Lemon's chop-stick lips and still managed to think. He was on the edge... waiting to know if in the next moment he would be thrown into a full-blown panic.

"You will be the class monitor this morning," Principal Lemon began.

And there it was... he didn't hear another thing. The rest was dumbed-down to a slow-mo' drone. He was in a fog and all he could see were humongous, gigantic chop-sticks, clapping... and clapping... and clapping.

Principal Chop-sticks... err... Lemon went on... as if everything was normal. "Miss Goodwin will not be coming in today," he said matter-of-fact. "I have a supply teacher on her way but I'm afraid she will be a while."

Ahgg! What could he say? Lucas stared up at Principal Lemon wishing hard that he could scream Nooooo! It was _bad_. His face turned a whiter shade of pale. And wouldn't you know it? The classroom door couldn't have opened any easier if it were triggered by an automatic sensor now... _and_ it welcomed him into the room like an honored guest. So, with his lead-pole legs, he hobbled in.

Principal Lemon made his announcement, instructed the students to read or play games quietly at their desks, and to be on their best behaviour until the supply teacher arrived. After that he left.

Lucas's gut tilt-a-whirled, screaming loud and clear that things were about to unravel fast. He shot his friend Sloane a chicken-hearted glance across the room, hoping like heck she'd catch it. She did.

Sloane Kurridge was the kind of girl that got along just as well with the boys as she did with the girls. But really, Sloane liked hangin-out with boys' best. That worked for Lucas. He thought she was the coolest of cool. She didn't have anything to prove to him though, they had been good friends since the first grade.

Lately he was starting to change his mind about girls. They weren't nearly as annoying as he once thought they were. As for Sloane, she didn't seem like a girl anyway, she was just Sloane.

People were always looking at Sloane. Though Lucas missed it, others were charmed by her bubbly personality and lured to take a second look at the would-be glamour girl wearing the face of modest, natural innocence. She was tanned and fit. Curled, fanned lashes highlighted her dramatic, confident eyes... the kind that said, if you mess with me, you'll lose. When her sleek chestnut hair divided and circled her neck, it reminded Lucas of a horses mane.

He wouldn't admit it, but he felt safer whenever she was around. Maybe it was because she could always beat him at arm wrestling. Maybe it was something else. He wasn't sure. He just knew something about her made most of the mean kids back down. He knew her well enough to know that when the veins in her neck stood out, look out!

Sloane met his look with a shrug and her usual, jump-to-the rescue act.

"Hey everyone, let's play some games from the new games cupboard," she called out with a happy lilt in her voice.

Miss Goodwin was trying to avoid classroom drama and fooling around when she was away. Her suggestion to the kids seemed like a good idea at the time. Board games from home could be brought in to share with the rest of the class. The idea was a hit. In a snap, the games cupboard was bulging. She hadn't even had a chance to look them over yet.

The noise level in the room went from a buzz to a dull roar in no time flat. A couple of the boys were already at the back of the room rifling through the shelves, sorting and shuffling and pyramid-stacking games.

"Hey, what's this?" Jason asked.

"Uh... let's look at it," replied Sergio.

"Squawk! Squawk!" There he was again. With his wings whirling, Radger hovered at the window in a helicopter-like maneuver. His eyes were tuned-in. Again and again he zoomed off, only to come back again for another sortie. This morning's mission was important. He didn't want to miss a thing.

"Yesss! There it is!" Radger shrieked. He celebrated the victory with a hasty break to furiously preen his licorice black feathers. "Squawk!" He was back on duty.

Jason looked up, "Hey, look at that big raven in the window!" he exclaimed. "What's he squawkin' about?"

The game was captivating. Sergio couldn't tear himself away from the box. He wanted to figure out how to play.

"This game looks cool!" His excitement called Jason back.

"What is it?" Jason wondered out loud, reading the box lid too. "It says it's a game that talks to you," he said. "You can ask it questions and it will answer you," he added.

"Cool! Let's see if it works. Who brought this in anyway?" Sergio was curious.

The boys caught Olivia's attention. The two at the back of the room, wearing low-slung jeans, were slumped over a desk. They were curiously studying the game her mom bought for her at a garage sale.

She shyly wandered over. "That's my game," she told them.

Jason looked back for a second, "It looks cool," he said turning away, "how do you play it?" he asked without looking back again.

Olivia blushed, but it didn't matter, no one noticed. It was ok. She was used to not getting noticed. Sometimes she wondered if she was invisible. Sometimes she wished she was.

"I don't know, I haven't played it yet," she answered faintly. "My mom bought it for me," she offered, leaving out the part about the garage sale. Everything she owned was bought at some kind of second hand sale. It was just her mom and her, and money was always tight.

Sergio was busy reading the instructions. "It says we can ask it questions and it will tell us stuff." He was wound-up.

"Hey Frankie, turn off the lights," he yelled.

"What for," Frankie yelled back.

"We're gonna play a game. C'mon everybody let's play this game!" Sergio was fired-up.

His energy sparked curiosity in the others. They drifted closer, circling around the unpacked board game, open, across one of the desks. The off-flip of the light switch was a signal to start. They were getting into it. Questions were shooting from every direction... what was the game about, how do you play it?

Jason leaned over the board, Sergio set things into place. The face of the board was simple with a string of letters and numbers running across it.

"Here," Jason said, taking the glass pointer from Sergio's hand, "You put that right in the middle like this." He set the game piece in the centre of the board.

"What's a see-ance?" Sergio was puzzled. He was back to reading the box. "I wonder what that means," he said.

Sloane's antennae's suddenly went up. Uh oh, that doesn't sound good, she said to herself.

Everyone was fidgety. The game was like an adventure ticket to somewhere, someplace far away from Target. They were all anxious, waiting to ride.

"Squawk!" Radger hung open-mouthed on the ledge of the glassy window strip. His eyes were sparkling, darting black beads. He chirped so hard that his beak opened up wide showing his waggly tongue. He was rocking. The tip of his bill clunked the glass as his claws scratched the grooves of the wood sill for balance.

He was as wide-eyed excited as the students. And why shouldn't he be? It wasn't that it _never_ happened... but it was rare for such youth, innocence, anticipation and consent to run in a head-on collision course.

Another wind gust lifted and fluttered a couple of Radger's feathers, tipping him, but he didn't budge from his place. The tactical-unit scheme was working according to plan. His squadron seldom got to see this kind of action. He was proud of his part in it. He wouldn't miss it for anything. This was big.

A flicker set his camera-eyes rolling, zooming in on the scene. Instantly, microelectronic data zipped effortlessly through a sophisticated, invisible cosmic sensor. No doubt, this would trigger a response. He was so anxious to get started he didn't bother to wait for his cohorts to arrive.

Sergio was explaining the game. "You put the glass pointer in the middle, ask a question, and it will spell or point to the answer," he said.

With that, babbling and chatter broke out in the room until finally, Lenny's fantasy about living the high-life was trumped by curiosity. He sauntered up to the board.

"Hey! I've played this before. We have this game. It's cool!" he announced. "You can get spirits to talk to you." He took a quick look and began to explain. "But you need to play it in the dark... it has to be dark," he insisted, shaking his head as if it wasn't going to work. "You have to be really quiet too," he added. "Sometimes it takes a long time to get an answer. I don't think it's dark enough in here," he said.

_Wait a minute_... Lenny has this game at home? Now there's a clue! Anyone? Anyone?

"Spirits...," a girl named Marley repeated with her nose turning like a corkscrew. "What's that sup-posed to mean?" she whispered.

"Let's play it anyway," a boy named Tommy said. He shrugged, "We can at least try it, maybe it'll work!"

"What can you ask?" one of the girls wanted to know.

"Anything, I think," Jason answered. "I don't know," he added.

"I wish it was darker in here," Lenny stated.

And who could have guessed? It was as if some-one was listening... could it be? Suddenly, a gigantic, gloomy, cape-like shadow draped the safe, pristine classroom window. The room went very, very dim. _Surprise_. The cavalry had arrived!

WARNING

Never Trust a Blackbird!

5

A DARK-WISH

THE THRILL IN the air was like the rush of a wild amusement ride. Could it have been Lenny's words that had ushered them in? _Really_? What an odd thought... what an odd event.

Smack-dab in the middle of a dark-wish, the windows were ambushed by birds. Black birds to be exact. Ravens to be precise... spies. Some clung, others hovered, and still more peered in from behind, all fighting for a spot by the glass. They were a freak-show if anyone cared to look. Of course only a few did, but they didn't care anyway.

And there was something else that no one noticed. Well, they couldn't have seen them even if they _had_ looked. But they were there! And lots of them!

An impatient mob of secret riding-jockeys packed-in behind the birds. They were the cloak and dagger kind. For now they were a horseless cavalry, anxious to catch a ride. They were called Nimmers. If the plan worked, they wouldn't be without a pony for long.

The Nimmers were modeled after squirrel monkeys. The perfect mock-up for the job. Dark eyes and white faces gave their tiny heads a skull-like appearance. With the largest proportioned brains among all primates, they were smart as a whip, amazingly lively and alert, excellent climbers, leapers and jumpers, and their iron grip was excellent at holding onto prey; all important traits in the secret rider service. When they weren't too-too excited, they were as secretive and quiet as a mouse. They were the perfect little con-artists.

Nimmers were secret agent fighters sent from Darkotika to ride on the backs of Middlings. Their job was to wreak havoc, sting with pain, and deal-out evil potions. They were big-time bad and would never ever leave their ride once they were saddled up. They could only be ejected from their seat by words from the lips of a Middling. The problem was, most Middlings had never even heard of them, and they certainly didn't know they were being ridden like a rodeo horse. This meant trouble.

But why on earth didn't anyone notice them there? Why on earth were they a secret? _Why on earth?_ Now that's a good point. Well, earth does have something to do with it. It's a jumbled idea, but simple. The truth is that anyone could have seen them if they really wanted to, but true to their absent-minded ways most Middlings didn't want to.

Maybe it was because with even a glimpse of these little Nimmer spirit-jockeys they would be scared silly! So it was simple... they just closed their eyes. Well, it really wasn't that simple because you don't usually see them with your eyes anyway so that doesn't work. So how do you see them? Well it's simple. You see them in your mind's eye.... Well it's not quite that simple because everybody knows your mind doesn't have eyes! Oh, it _is_ getting tangled now isn't it?

Ok, let's see. Close your eyes... come on now, do it. Now think of a juicy, stringy, stretchy slice of cheesy pizza.... Can you see it? Ok, now open your eyes. Now think of that juicy, stringy, stretchy slice of cheesy pizza again. Can you still see it? Of course you can! That's it. It really is simple! You might think it's just your imagination... but it's not. You are seeing something that is real, and seeing that juicy, stringy, stretchy slice of pizza is likely making you hungry!

So just the same, if... yes _if_ a Middling was to see into the supernatural sphere of the kingdoms, they were usually scared silly! So they simply didn't look. But not looking only muddied things up even more. Because not looking, not seeing, made them a piece-of-cake. Simply, easy-breezy delicious! And that's what Darkotika, the kingdom of the Black Hearts counted on.

It was impossible not to. The snippy, boorish crowd bobbled and juggled to make way for someone coming through. He was the king-pin, the super-star, Necro Mancy. He was here to control of the game. That's what Darkotika sent him to do. And he didn't come alone either. As slick as a hot knife through butter the motley crew with him slipped right through the glass, into the classroom. Now the place was jammed with ghostly invaders mingling among the kids, settling in to watch the show.

Necro Mancy took charge of the room, hovering mid-air above the board game with his cloak floating out behind him.

The big-eyed, fidgety kids were blind to it all. They were normal Middlings, as normal, as normal as can be, with no clue about any Darkotika game-plan.

Who knew that _they_ were the game pieces in the _big_ game... the only game that mattered. The kingdom of the Black Hearts looked at them as simple-minded pawns just holding a place. Place keepers. Their middling-ness fit perfectly into the plan. It always had. And who would want to change it? Surely not the Middlings. That was plain to see.

But wait... wait, there _was_ _one_ who wanted to change it. Yes, one to be sure! One whole kingdom in fact; one secret kingdom that _did_ _not_ want to stay a secret at all! It was a secret Kingdom just waiting and wanting to be discovered by someone; by anyone, and particularly a Middling.

It was well known throughout both of the kingdoms that Middlings were look-alikes of the Prince of Morning Star Kingdom, and that was enough for split-second loathing, every time. It was like every Middling wore a picture of the Prince. Worse than that, oh much-much worse... the Prince was totally sold-out to them. He loved each and every one of them.

The Middlings were clueless to any of this and if there was even a sneaking suspicion of it, Darkotika cronies would attack fiercely to capture the thought and snuff it. Like a tag-team, one after another, the treadmill of bullies never quit. Poor things, and they really believed they were free too.

The life of a Middling may have been simple but it wasn't easy. There was a maze of roadblocks. Trash heaps of broken dreams, never-ending nervous glances and a firestorm of fears, struggles and regrets. But there was one thing Darkotika hadn't counted on. It was one flickering ember that was almost smothered to death daily. But it just wouldn't quit... it was _hope_. Deep down past the point of knowing, every Middling hoped that there was something _more_. And... there was.

So, just because Morning Star Kingdom was a well-kept secret, don't believe for an instant that the kingdom rulers were caught off guard about the classroom hoax this morning. Oh they knew about it all right. Kingdom warriors were already there with a plan of their own.

Lenny hushed everyone quiet. "Every time I played this with my aunt it worked," he boasted. And Lenny's zeal to see the game "work" was thrilling to more than just his classmates.

Far from the enchanted innocence on the faces of the kids huddled in Target Middle School's class 6B, deep in a crater of the abyss, the kingdom of Darkotika was already charmed by Lenny. Maybe it was because the rest of the De Villain family was so radically sold out to Darcoticism, maybe it was his dark-tilted personality or his smooth deceptive ways. Whatever it was, he was a good fit.

For now, the boy had no idea about the budding force of his words. It was a terrific help that he was bowing to the dark-side pull already. One of the chief warriors in the Kingdom of Darkotika was taking notice.

Chief Wizard Caldron pointed his long-bone finger at the colossal video screen. He was priming to speak. His handlebar mustache twitched a speedy signal that he was annoyed, and not just a little. "Has anyone checked the book on this boy yet?" His chapped lips puckered and curved, a sign of a looming outburst. If his suspicions were right and they likely were, no one had taken a serious look at this boy's potential. He threw his fellow cronies a snooty look. Their ditzy ways irked him.

No one turned, no one answered. Finally when the huffy stare broke him, a bald-headed wargroom with half-moon circles of sweat under both arms, began sputtering. The same crescent shape showed up again in etched shadows under his eyes. He looked freakish with one wandering googly eye, and his blank face draining pale. He dithered and mumbled a bunch of nothing.

"Well get it then!" Caldron screamed, his arms flashed out of his cloak.

The wargroom jumped at the chance to escape. He would have disappeared in a split second dash hobbling for the library if only his stubby legs would go faster. Instead, he waddled away.

The look on Caldron's face watching the wargroom "rushing off," was like he'd been whipped with a noodle. He groaned and twirled his mustache into spears. The room, tinted an eerie twilight blue, was pulsing a brighter glow now. The video was beaming live on the Darkot-atron. Good, he thought, at least Radger was reliable.

There he was. The wonder-boy. Lenny was put-ting on a show almost as good as Necro Mancy's. The chalkboard brushes were even starting to shake. Chalk dust whirled and puffed and drifted, fogging the room.

This boy was good. Caldron untwined his mustache, studying Lenny's every move. They weren't so lucky with the last one. He turned out to be a wretched waste of time. He wished they had killed him off while they still had the chance... before he defected to the light. He was a traitor. He couldn't think about it. It only made him sick.

So the hunt was on for a replacement. A dedicated black-heart with a talent for wizardry. Someone wil-ling to make gut wrenching sacrifices for Darkotika.

Caldron's eyes ricocheted on and off the screen. He couldn't make a mistake again. Lenny had been cursed, abandoned and robbed of his innocence. He was vulnerable... and he was already living with a Prima Witchina. He was a good prospect. A quick appetite for the dark side; a fresh hype for the game. The decision was an easy one. If the records checked out it would be open-season on Lenny. He would be marked for the chase. He wouldn't know what hit him.

The more Wizard Caldron thought about it the more he liked the idea. He wondered if this boy might finally be his ticket into the higher ranks.

"Where is that imbecilic idiot? I want that book now!" he shrieked. His voice boomed and echoed and startled the room. Even the furniture shook.

The meter was running. Middling time was racing. He had seen it before, they could turn to the light in a flash. He could hardly wait to get his hands on that book!

Back in the classroom, wide eyed students bubbled with curiosity and excitement.

Lenny took charge. "Let's give it a go!" he said. "Ok, who wants to go first? Who has a question?"

"I do!" Sergio was quick.

Lenny's voice flipped a switch. It was Necro's signal to start. His ritual began with a showy display of himself. With plump gray leach-lips frozen to a fake smile, he was the star of the show. The minds of the gawking youngsters at his feet were swept out of the classroom, way past the unseeing Target town line. Necro was famous for doling out figments of imagination, and they could change in a snap. He was a quick-change artist, a stalker. His game was capture and hold... _forever_.

Now he was a maestro, directing a finely tuned orchestra. His spider-hands lifted high into a dramatic pose. Instead of a song, stringy webs spun off his fingertips and netted the ceiling and walls. In an instant the classroom was transformed into a cage-like forum. The Nimmers waiting outside knew the routine. On cue, they slipped through the glass and crowded in behind the webs. The net bulged and swayed like a wind-blown hammock, just above the gullible students.

### WARNING

### When You Come to the Fork in the Road, Take It!

6

IT'S NO GAME!

LUCAS LEANED CLOSE to Sloane's ear.

"Hey, who's that kid?" He was looking at Maxx. "Who's that kid that was sitting at my desk when I came in?" he asked, nearly in a whisper. He hadn't even had the chance to take his seat this morning because of the fuss his late arrival had set off. When he did finally get _into_ the classroom, he was blown over to see a strange boy sitting at his desk!

"Oh." Sloane replied casually, "He's the new boy."

He had already gathered that there was a new boy, and this was surprising enough because it almost never happened, but the kicker was Sloane's wacky attitude.

"New boy?" He was annoyed and wanted to play it all out one step at a time. "What new boy?" he asked.

"His name is Maxx," Sloane smiled with a twinkle in her eye you couldn't miss.

"Double X Maxx," she added, star struck, as if he was some kind of super hero. "His name is spelled with two X's at the end instead of one. Cool eh?"

What was that look about? Lucas wondered. And why was some new kid allowed to sit at his desk anyway? And why did Sloane seem to be OK with it too? He was trying hard to wrap his mind around it. And no, he didn't think his name was cool. He didn't think anything about this was cool. He didn't like it at all.

"Didn't you tell him that was my seat?" Lucas was edgy.

"There are no other empty desks, and you weren't here yet. He just came over and sat down. I didn't want to tell him he couldn't sit there," she replied.

Lucas wondered why not. Her desk was in front of his, it should have been easy. He was puzzled she was so chill about something that really mattered to him. He wasn't sure what bothered him most, losing his desk or seeing his best friend all mushy over this new kid. The whole thing bugged him.

Sloane went on, "I just figured Miss Goodwin would sort it out and get him his own place to sit when she came in, but then she didn't come in either. Sorry Lucas. I was wondering where you were this morning. I didn't expect a new boy. I'm just as surprised as you are. It's weird though, he came in with Lenny. Maybe they know each other," she guessed, shrugging her shoulders.

Lucas's ears turned as red as peppers. What the heck! Now he really didn't like this guy if he was a friend of Lenny's. Of all days to be late. How was he going to get his desk back? He dropped his head back, his eyes rolled. He was ticked that this new boy made such a great impression on Sloane too. Besides that, he didn't want a new kid in his class anyway. Why couldn't things just stay the same? Now he understood the Middling's saying, change meant trouble. This whole thing made him crazy.

So far the morning had been a bust. And now, so was this stupid game. If there was anything good at all he figured, it was that everyone was too distracted to kick up a fuss. He hoped that the supply teacher would come whizzing through the door soon.

By now he was so unzipped that even the game had him rattled. What kind of junk was it anyway? He glared at Lenny. There he was in the spotlight like the leader of the band. He was postured up with his leg slung over the seat and his hands planted on the desk next to the game as if he owned it.

As usual he was whipping up attention for himself. There was an open-ended supply of expendable options to use to spin his web. Today it was the game, later it would be something else. Why couldn't anyone see through him? He was always up to something. Lucas wondered for the umpteenth time how he got away with it.

A question? Is that what Lenny was calling for? He had questions all right. But not now. He decided that he wouldn't play. And he didn't. _It was that simple_.

His excuse was good enough if anyone asked. He was the class monitor. He needed to keep an eye on things. To start with, he eyed his desk, edged over, and with a twinge of satisfaction slid into the seat while he still had the chance.

Somewhere between the barricaded door episode and Sloane's lured infatuation with Maxx, the world had sucked the normal out of his day. Since he felt like he'd just been jammed-in between a shyster and a Romeo, and he already knew the shyster, he figured he better find out what _double_ X Maxx was all about.

Even with the dingy lighting and his preppy look, Maxx was looking pretty uncomfortable. He was definitely out of place trying to mesh with the crowd around the desk. His clothes screamed New York, or maybe LA. His trendy style made Target residents an instant fashion disaster.

It was rare to have any new students here at all. Most of the families around here knew one another, or at least they knew about each other. You could count on one hand the number of people that moved in or out of Target over the last five years.

Suddenly Maxx was smiling at someone. Lucas followed his gaze. It was Lenny. No wait... maybe it was Sloane. He wasn't sure. A double whammy... both? His stomach twisted. He wished Maxx would just disappear.

That's all I need, he thought. I have enough trouble already with Lenny, I don't need anyone else pressing my panic buttons. Even though Maxx didn't look like the bullying type he had a coolness that was hard to read.

He had the jitters. He wasn't used to feeling this worked-up. He looked over at Sloane. She wasn't paying any attention to Maxx. Good. She was a keeper. He would make sure they stayed tight.

A classmate, Nick, swaggered over to Lucas. He could tell something was bugging him. It was odd to see him so bummed-out.

"What's up man?" Nick flicked his hair and bumped down at a desk near Lucas. Nick was an awkward boy stuck in a wanna-be, trying-hard-to-be-cool guy zone. His crack at dressing cool, acting cool, being cool, somehow always came off looking retro instead. Either way, he was likeable.

"Oh, nothin." Lucas mumbled. He didn't want to talk. He came up with, "They're starting the game," just for something to say.

"Oh, I don't care. I don't want to play," Nick replied, lazily leaning back. He stayed with Lucas. The two of them just sat there. They watched like spectators behind an invisible barricade. If they were missing out, they didn't know it. If they were left out, they didn't care. Kept out? Held back? Well... maybe they were.

The game began. Sergio asked his question with the naïve group of kids hovering... holding their breath, captivated by the glass game piece in the center of the board. Depending on how easy-to-fool one was, the game could seem darker than it really was, and much lighter than it really was, both at the same time.

The game board came alive. No one dared to look away. Everyone was expecting some-thing to happen. They didn't know what, but they knew something should and could happen.

And it did.

A few kids didn't play, Lucas, Nick and Maxx, and a couple of others opted not to; it seemed like a no-big-deal decision at the time, but it was a game changer. You could put Sloane on the list too be-cause even though she was right up there with one particularly interesting question, technically she didn't play.

You could or maybe should use a word other than interesting to describe Sloane's question. Contentious, intimidating or even suspicious would do. She was hawkish. The vein in her neck was standing out, her face was flushing varying shades of pink racing to red, all clues that she was in a feisty mood. So yes, she did ask the talking board a rather testy question, but clearly she wasn't playing games, and to be sure, she had no intention of _being_ _played_.

Lucas, glued to his spot hovering around his desk, was only casually watching at first, until he became fixated on Sloane for his own reasons. Now he wondered what was winding her up so tight. Uh oh, he thought, something's up.

But he was as surprised as everyone else that her question had clearly been a touchy one for the talking board game. And he was shocked just like everybody else too at what _it did_ in response to the question she asked.

At first it seemed like the game might not be working anymore, like it wasn't going to answer Sloane's question at all; it sure seemed that way, but there was no way to know about the cussing out that was going on behind the scenes. All of a sudden the game was worked into a frenzy. _You could feel it!_

Up until now everything went smooth, working just like Lenny said it would, almost routine. Everyone was really into it too. At first it was a blast. But then some of the questions got more serious. There were questions about loved ones and then the fortune teller kind. To everyone's amazement, every time, the talking board would spell out what seemed to be the perfect answer.

At least that's what they thought. The know-it-all board was charming, just like they wanted it to be. They all stared into the blank space where Necro Mancy won them over. His old routine was always fresh and tantalizing. With each question his spider-leg fingers pretended to tap-dance on his cheek as if he was puzzled. The answers? He would get them. Like a newsfeed, headquarters checked and scanned the facts and the data was zapped to his memory bank receiver. There was no question they could ask that would stump him.

If the kids had any doubts before, they didn't anymore. They could hardly believe it, but they did. Quietly, gently, they surrendered their guard. Some of them even heard the voice of their own heart pleading with them not to, but the lure of the thrill had won out. It was like the game knew everything about everyone! And maybe it did.

Well maybe not it, but he. Well maybe not he, but they. Well maybe not they, but... who?

And here was Sloane. Her face could have set off sirens. What did she know? She just stood there with her hands on her hips and tapping her toe. The flicker in her eyes said she was ready for a sword-fight.

"Well, answer the question why don't you?" she demanded.

Necro Mancy was on fire, he was instantly vicious! Venom shot from the orchestra of lying teeth tucked behind his leachy lips. What kind of question was that? Who did this flimsy-whimsy, mortal Middling girl think she was anyway and how dare she defy his powers? He was a legend in his own mind and couldn't get his head wrapped around what she was up to. She's an air-head, his logic snapped. She has no idea who she's jerking with, he speculated and hissed. And maybe she didn't... but, what if she did!

"C'mon, we're waiting. Tell us...," Sloane's words kicked like a bully.

The funny thing was, the gutsy look on her face told a different story. She had an I already know the answer look on her face.

"Where do you get your power from?" her words were hard hitting. The room went silent. No one knew what they were waiting for. No one knew what Sloane was up to or why she was so brassy. She didn't know herself. She felt like a warrior with her first crack at taking on the world... and maybe she was.

No one dared to breathe. Then after a silence that felt like a million years, something startling happened. The glass game piece in the center of the board scared everyone when it began to move. It was different this time. It wasn't fun like before when it answered their trivial questions, by now all the fun was siphoned out of the room. This time it was creepy.

Cold chills and hot flashes spun the room. Goose bumps popped on everyone. All eyes were stuck to the glass game piece shifting like a sloth across the board.

Lucas and Nick shot each other a blank look. By now they had boosted themselves higher than the crowd and were standing on the desks.

"Who is that girl?" a voice boomed. The gates of Darkotika rattled on their hinges. Wizard Caldron scrutinized the live images reeling across the screen. He teetered between a stupefied rage and panic. "She's on to us! How could this happen! Get me her book... now!" A string of curses hurled from his mouth, he was nearly coming unglued. "This was not supposed to happen!" he shrieked.

There, in the simplest of classrooms in the easy-breezy, deeply-sleepy, snoring-boring town of Target, the sugar coated candy covered, sweet and sour, chocolate dipped, lollipop licked, candy striped, icing whipped game was about to be exposed for what it was!

It was a lying, cheating, stealing, scaring, spell-binding, enchanting game _that wasn't a game at all!_ It was a trick, it was a scheme, and it was wizardry. The hoax was that it was harmless fun.

But would they see it? Would they get it? Would- they-could-they see it for the trap that it was, or would they still think it was a game?

The crystal glass game piece was doing what it had to do. Not because it wanted to do it but because _it had to_. Why did it have to? It had to because someone was speaking the words of the King. This time the game would not win. They wouldn't fool _everyone_ this time.

This common little Middling girl with hair like a horse's mane heard a voice rise up inside of her that told her something about this game was all-wrong. The red light came on. And even though she didn't understand it all, she wouldn't take the chance. She wasn't willing to be duped. This was no game and somehow she knew it. She was the only one that had a problem with it. She was the _only_ one that was right!

Necro was trapped. There was no way out. He looked at the girl. Even in the dim light her face glowed like a star. She was still tapping, still waiting. When he drifted in today he would never have guessed this end.

The glass pointer was shaky when it moved up to the letter D. With each move it fought to stay put before crawling again over to the next letter. If they weren't so spellbound, the kids would have squealed with delight. Instead with their minds floating in limbo and their eyes wide, they followed the pointer from the D to the R, next to the A and the G... K... O... N. DRAGKON! The secret was unlocked. Dragkon, the prince of Darkotika was the source of the talking board's power!

No one could have guessed what happened next. Suddenly, terror let loose! The glass pointer shattered! Crystal splinters and glass needles stormed straight up and then rained back down.

Fear stabbed everyone hard. Now there were screams and shrieks bouncing off the walls. The fun they had imagined was lost.

Yet... even with this, would you believe that all of these innocent rosy faced kids _still_ believed this was only a game? All except Sloane of course. She was unmoved, with a satisfied, smug look on her face.

It may have looked like a game and played like a game and talked like a game, but it _never_ was a game. At least not the kind of game it seemed to be, not the kind of fun they thought it was. It was fun... but never for them. It was a hook, it was a hunt. They were the hunted.

All of a sudden, like they'd had a taser-shot, the Nimmers _went_ _wild!_ The game was over and they still had to catch their ride. With way more Nimmers than kids to ride on, they were frantic! No jockey wanted to be left without a horse! They swung, sprung, leapt and climbed. Every single Nimmer was running around like a nut bouncing and soaring from shoulder to shoulder. Should they ride this one or that one? They just couldn't decide.

Finally, some were settling down nicely, until out of the blue more horseplay broke out! Hysterical, desperate Nimmers with no ride sprang through the air. Knocking off unsuspecting ones, they stole their mount right out from under them! It was a brutal course to find a horse. Then as quickly as it had be-gun it was done. Those who were on were on and those who were off were out.

Leftover Nimmers on the hunt would need to scrounge up a ride somewhere else, and they would find one too. Out of the classroom the crowd mobbed the hallway. One with a sharp eye spotted Arnie Buggling. For the second time today he was heading to the principal's office, lazily moseying along, swaying from side to side. He was an easy shot. Other's had spotted him too. Whoosh! Two whizzed over and leaped up onto his shoulder. A fight broke out and one fell off.

The other rooms were searched for more dark horses, kids with a fascination for the dark-side. For now there were only a few, later there would be more. There weren't enough to go around. They would invade the movie theater tonight. Success would depend on what was playing. They weren't bound to just kids. They'd hitch a ride on anyone standing in the dark zone.

The few students that had decided not to play the game had escaped. In the wild scramble, not even one Nimmer tried to mount them. It was like they were _invisible_ to them. And maybe they were.

There was no telling what the others had saddled themselves with. One thing was sure, these Nimmers meant terrible trouble. They weren't ordinary monkeys just messing around. These little monkeys who weighed nothing at all were the ground troops. When the kids said yes to the game it was their ticket to ride! So now they would be riding until... until the kids bucked them off! But that wasn't about to happen any time soon unless they found out about them. And that just might be a good idea before they tried out some of those potions and spells stowed away in those tiny backpacks they were carrying. These guys were serious.

Whether Lucas saw it or not and he likely didn't, it seems that his bad, awful day wasn't turning out so bad after all. It turns out that he and the others that didn't play the game had just escaped the clutches of evil.

For those of you who still believe in game-playing there are many more spell-binding competitions ahead. If you're heading that way you'll be walking along the cliff path at Dark-edge. The battle for your spirit is fierce so look up and watch for the clues. Never look down unless you want to go there! It's been proven that you'll end up right where you're lookin'. So if you don't want to go down and believe-it you don't, _look up!_ Oh, and when you come to the fork in the road, take it.

WARNING

Never Trust a Lucky Charm!

7

WHAT DID YOU SAY?

"HEY MAXX, WAIT up," Lenny yelled down the hallway. School was dismissed for the day and Maxx was already halfway to the door. He wanted to find out more about this new kid. He was impressed and ready to throw himself at him after seeing the super-car he arrived in this morning. He figured Maxx must have a cool house and some sweet stuff too.

The town of Target was a pinwheel of dead end streets fanning off the tidy, organized business district that criss-crossed like a waffle. It was an in-between place, the kind of spot on the map that summertime tourists floating through described as quaint.

Lenny wondered where a kid like this could possibly live. He racked his brain. There wasn't a fancy street anywhere that could match up with the lifestyle Maxx looked like he was accustomed to.

When he lived in Chicago every once in a while he got to see how the rich people lived. The enchanting sparkle de-iced his world and dissolved his clammy fear-sweats. One day, he promised him-self, life would be different. This wasn't it. His hunger for affluence was a craving, especially when it was flaunted in his face, like now.

Could Maxx be his lucky charm he wondered? Maybe, but he would need to put a leash on him fast before someone else yanked his chain. He was pretty confident that he could get inside his head. He wasn't sure why, but something about him reminded him of Lucas. He guessed that maybe it was because he looked like sort of a wuss. Whatever, it would be a snap.

He could see himself swindling this boy out of some of his goods and maybe even getting tight with his family to cash in on other things too. This could be a pretty sweet deal; this kid was like a winning lottery ticket just waiting to be cashed. Lenny smirked and set his sights on his new tidy-haired friend.

"Hey Maxx! Maxx wait up!" he yelled.

Maxx stopped and turned around. Lenny was catching up, bullying his way past anyone in his path.

Why was he in such a panic, Maxx wondered? He decided to wait.

With his target stopped, Lenny's huge strides slowed to a comfortable stroll until he caught up. "So Maxx, my man... what did you think of your first day in 6B?" he tried to get things rolling.

That's it? Maxx thought, then answered, "Oh, it was good." He didn't bother to mention that the game had weirded him out. "Hey, thanks for showing me around," he continued, still wondering why Lenny had been rarin' to catch up to him.

"Hey, no problem," Lenny replied smoothly.

Lenny's easy answer didn't settle Maxx's mind. It just dawned on him that he felt uneasy around him, he didn't know why. Lenny had been nothing but nice. Why should he feel intimidated? He chocked it up to first day jitters and canned his feelings. After all, Lenny had been great, showing him around, introducing him to everyone. He felt like he owed him a better than average chance.

Suddenly they were mobbed by a crowd of students moving like a machine towards the door.

At the same time, lingering Nimmers holed-up in nooks and crannies and hanging from doorposts and lockers, stalked the students churning by. Could they be so lucky? It rarely happened. Suddenly some kids broke into a fight. More Nimmers saddled a ride.

A couple of seventh grade dawdlers slipped in between Lenny and Maxx. Lenny shoved his way back in and sealed the gap. Everyone jostled and bumped along the hall-maze. Finally outside, they were struck with the late afternoon apricot sun.

Lenny knew just what he was looking for. Still, his eyes zig-zagged around in a casual glance to scope out the area. He planned a lively speech to give Maxx the low-down on everything and anything he could think of that made himself a hero. He even went on a short, light hearted bragging spree about the kids he'd beaten up when he lived in Chicago. He made sure he kept the banter rolling along so that Maxx didn't have a chance to cut him off and break away. He was sure the Bentley would be drifting in or already parked somewhere. Finally, he spotted the prize. His heart took off like a rocket. My carriage awaits! He announced to himself.

"So, which way's your house," he baited Maxx. "I'll walk with you."

"Oh, thanks, but I have a ride waiting for me," Maxx replied.

"Oh... well... I guess I'll just walk home by my-self then." Lenny made sure he sounded disappointed. "I was hoping to get to know you more," he added a whiny hint.

"Gee, thanks Lenny. You've been really nice to me today. It's sort of tough starting a new school, but everything went really well," Maxx told him.

Lenny didn't answer. He made sure the silence was glaring.

"I can give you a ride home if you like," Maxx finally blurted.

"Hey, that'd be great!" Lenny answered fast.

"Come on." Maxx motioned toward his waiting car.

Charles had both of the back doors opened wide. The boys slid in from either side. Lenny breathed in deep. The smell of the leather interior made him feel like a champion. The spacious interior was like a plush living room. He snuggled back into the seat and sat up tall. The air conditioner cut the heat with a cool fresh breeze. On a day like today it was a true luxury but just like he was following a script, Lenny ordered Charles to put the window down anyway. Like the gentleman he was, Charles slid the windows down on both sides and stared into the rear-view mirror, wondering about the obnoxious boy with Maxx.

Surely this wasn't the type of friend Heather Buckslinger was hoping for when she bargained with her husband over moving here.

Lenny's head glittered with runway lights. He felt like a movie star. He was a one-man show. As the car sailed through the sea of kids bobbing past, he yelled and waved like a lunatic. He wanted to be sure every-one in range could see him riding in first-class style. He was such a nut-case that a rubbernecking girl fell off her bike and the car screeched to a dead stop.

Lenny was giddy when he told Charles his address and directions to his street. The Nimmer on his back was too. He was ready for some fun. Charles was driving quicker than usual today. Careening around corners jacked up the thrill. Maybe it was normal, maybe it wasn't, but the wind whipping through the open windows was awfully fierce. The ride came to an abrupt end all too soon for Lenny.

There was no one around to show off to, and no one who cared when he hopped out of the limousine, back to the stark reality of his miserable house. The Nimmer leaned into Lenny's ear and let out a mournful cry that shot into his heart. He wanted to make sure Lenny remembered no one was there for him. He did. And with that sad reminder his next move was already on the tip of his tongue.

"We'll have to do this again sometime my man," he leaned back inside the car to leave his flippant remark for Maxx. It wasn't a request, it was a demand. He ignored Charles who was still standing outside the door.

Stepping away, he yelled over his shoulder, "I'll meet you at school at the side door tomorrow." There was no chance for Maxx to object. A giant leap up the first slab of the cracked concrete sidewalk sealed the deal. Lenny turned back for a quick pretend salute before bounding into the house.

Even with no whisper of a breeze the wire line above the sidewalk in front of Lenny's house swayed. It was Radger catching his wind after he rocketed back here racing ahead of the car. His heart was still beating like a band when he screeched his approval at Lenny before he cut the film loose and sent it off. Another tidbit for Darkotika to study.

Below, Charles had a flimsy hope that he'd seen the last of Lenny. He hadn't figured this boy out yet, but he had been around long enough to know trouble when he saw it and this kid had trouble scribbled all over him. Even his house seemed sketchy. This place felt weird. Mrs. Buckslinger wouldn't be pleased either. For now he decided to stay out of it, after all this was only the first day.

Maxx could only nod his head and mumble a good-bye that Lenny couldn't even hear. The Bentley sped away and out of sight.

The drive home had been too quick for Lenny. He still didn't know where Maxx lived or why he had come here. He did find out though that Maxx's dad owned several banks in the state of New York, so that explained the Bentley and driver all right. Maxx also told him that he had always gone to private schools up until now.

Inside the house aunt Clair was sitting stone-faced in the living room watching one of her favourite TV shows just like she did every day at this time. Lenny pushed himself past her heading for his room. Neither of them spoke. It wasn't strange. They hardly ever talked. For them, it would be bizarre if they did.

Aunt Clair gave him a roof over his head and food for his stomach and not much else. Well, at least that's what he thought. Actually, she gave him a lot more. And it wasn't good. Not for anyone, especially not him. In fact, you could say it was bad. In fact, you _should_ say it was bad, because that's _all_ that it was.

Lenny was thinking about Maxx and feeling miserable. What a spoiled kid, he thought. It was hard to like spoiled kids. Well, he didn't need to like him anyway. And besides, if he wasn't such a spoiled brat he wouldn't be meeting up with him again tomorrow morning. Kids like him opened up opportunities. He sure wouldn't pick a cream puff like this kid to be his friend... if he even wanted any friends.

The fun was over. Looking around his dismal bed-room, he caught sight of the crater in the wall where he punched his fist into it. Little plaster stones still lay in a neat pile where they had dropped on the threadbare carpet. No one would be coming to clean it up or fix it. He could care less.

He flopped across his bed and kicked one of his shoes high into the air. It clinked on the light shade, thumped the ceiling then torpedoed to the bed. The other one dropped off his foot to the floor.

He was antsy. His mind was tracing out his angle to stick close to Maxx. He would mark his territory before any of the others got any ideas about buddying up to him. Maxx had to believe he was a loyal and honest friend, so for now he would play the underdog and gain his trust. _Let the games begin_ , he thought to himself.

Meanwhile, Lenny wasn't the only one thinking up ideas of manipulation and control. Chief Wizard Caldron had been glued to the giant screen in the Darkology Center deep in the Kingdom of Darkotika. He was closely watching the events un-fold. He could have been there himself, but personally handling such activities was much too trivial for a wizard of his caliber and rank. He would interfere if necessary. For now Lenny was doing just fine.

"That's right Lenny my boy," Caldron growled slow and low, "you took the words right out of my mouth. Yes, _do_ let the games begin. Ha! Ha! Ha!" he howled with wicked delight.

What a difference a day can make. Well actually, what a difference one can make in a day. It had started out like any other cookie-cutter day for Lenny De Villain until suddenly, two rare things had happened. Not only was he excited, he was the cause of excitement in the Kingdom of Darkotika.

Although fate had seemed to drop a gift in Lenny's lap that day, it hadn't. Actually, he had himself to thank for it. And although the hope for excitement seemed to glide in on a black Bentley with innocent young Maximillion Buckslinger, it didn't. No, the hope for excitement today was concocted in the mind of young Lenny De Villain when he imagined a scheme of manipulation and control. Well what do you think the Kingdom of Darkotika would call this imagination of Lenny's? Well... they call it witchcraft of course! Their specialty!

Chief Wizard Caldron let out a laugh like thunder, "Oh, I'm so excited!" he whooped. The air in the room hinted of a blue fog. It was wired with electricity. With his next roar came a spontaneous flash of lightening, "Way to go Lenny my boy. Way to go!"

*

Lucas was sure he couldn't remember a day that was worse than today. He was late for school, caught by Principal Lemon, he lost his desk, was worried about losing Sloane, and he had been blindsided by the new kid, double M, or double X Maxx... what-ever his name was! On top of all that, he was afraid that Lenny had a new recruit for his bully crowd.

He wandered home from school slower than usual. On the other side of the woods the sidewalks were empty. The houses nearby were lonely. When he finally got home he was drained and sweaty. This time of day, his mother would be in the kitchen churning out her latest award winning recipe.

The hallway smelled fishy. He hoped it wasn't salmon. If it was, Felix was sure to be close by with his nose hunting down stray morsels. He loved it.

"Hi mom." Lucas came slumping into the room.

His mother was there in her starched apron. She had a bowl of salmon on the counter and two small mountains of chopped celery and onions ready to toss in.

Lucas's nose poked up. "What are you making?" he asked, already knowing.

"I'm making salmon patties for dinner," she answered.

"Oh," was all he said. It seemed that dinner wasn't going to change his mood either.

"How was your day at school?" his mother asked.

"It was the worst day ever," he told her with everything still fresh in his mind.

Mrs. Warbuck frowned and stopped mixing. She dried her hands on a crisp ruffle on her apron. Lucas told his story. He listed off everything except the part about being late for school. He figured the rest was bad enough.

Mrs. Warbuck handed her son an icy glass with lemon pulp and sugar crystals twirling like a snow-globe. The story stretched out between slurps.

Lucas's mom talked about the bright side of things. Maybe this new boy was an opportunity to have a new friend, she told Lucas, reminding him that didn't happen in Target very often. Maybe it was the sweetness of the lemonade, and maybe it was the sweetness of his mother, but Lucas felt better.

"Mom, have you seen Felix anywhere?" Lucas changed the subject. He was eyeing the salmon.

"He's right there on the chair," his mother answered, glancing at a kitchen chair by the doorway before turning back to her cooking.

Lucas looked at the chair. What was she talking about he wondered? He looked around again, then he knew.

"That's not Felix. That's your orange purse!" he cried. Then shaking his head in disbelief, "Sheesh," he exclaimed.

"Oh...," Mrs. Warbuck giggled. "Out of the corner of my eye I thought it was Felix curled up there. Haha! It's not the first time that's happened." She laughed again.

Lucas rolled his eyes. "Gee mom, your imagination is nearly as good as mine." He left the kitchen to hunt down the cat.

"I doubt that!" His mom called, smiling. She dropped the spatula she'd been working through some cookie dough and raced after him in a playful chase-down in the hall. Lucas squealed knowing what was next. She caught and twirled him by the shoulder into a bear-hug and left a quick peck on the top of his head. Each time she thought it might be the last. He was growing up.

"Awe mom, cut it out!" Lucas cried.

Martha Warbuck beamed. She loved that boy with all her heart.

"Save some salmon for Felix," Lucas yelled.

After dinner the kitchen switched from smelling like a fisherman's wharf to a chocolate factory. Lucas grabbed a warm cookie off a tray. His mom was washing up the dishes.

"What kind are these?" he asked.

"They're mud cookies," she smiled big. She knew Lucas would think she was just kidding around. The look on his face said she was right.

"Yes, they're called Mud Cookies," she said with a giggle. "I got the recipe from Mrs. Wilson," she told him.

"That's funny," Lucas laughed. "He pushed the last piece of one cookie into his mouth and grabbed one to go. "These are really good!" he said over his shoulder.

The screen door banged shut and Martha War-buck cringed. "When will that man fix that door?" she mumbled.

Lucas was outside cooling off in the shade. The sun was still belting out the heat. He sat down on the ground and shimmied between the bare roots that gave the tree long legs and feet.

The ancient oak tree in the back yard was a giant. It was the kind of tree you couldn't ever imagine not being there. The kind that you knew laughed with you and cried with you, and was strong when you were weak. Lucas felt like it was his friend. He thought that sometimes it even talked to him.

"I think that oak tree was talkin' to me mom," he told his mother one day.

"Oh Lucas, you know trees don't talk," she laughed. "Tell me, what did it say to you?" She went on, not waiting for an answer. "You have such an imagination. One of these days your imagination is going to get you into trouble and maybe us too," she said.

"Well, I don't really know what it said," Lucas answered slowly, "but I'm pretty sure that it said something."

And maybe that old tree did talk. It sure did put up a fight when whopping winds tried to blow the tree fort down. The oak tree's branches pumped up like a muscle man. On the outside it went into a boxing rampage, on the inside it cradled that tree fort like a baby.

The tree fort had been there for so long the two had become intertwined to where it was hard to tell where the tree and the fort weren't one. It was like the old tree had a heart. You could feel it. Maybe you could see it too right where some of the oldest gnarly limbs came together in a large twisty knot near the split of the trunk.

Whether the days were bright and sunny or dark and stormy the tree stood strong, faithfully keeping watch from its place in the center of the back yard. There had been other boys before Lucas, but none like him. Even the old tree knew he was a different sort of boy. It had listened to his dreams and kept his secrets safe.

And maybe that old tree even had secrets of its own.... Secrets it was willing to share if someone was daring enough to look higher than their nose. And now, finally... here was a boy with promise; a boy with a spark in his eye and he was quick-witted too... a boy who wasn't content in being a Middling. Well maybe some of those dreams of his would become something. Much of the time the old oak tree just stood there silently, waiting on the boy. Waiting and hoping. Hoping and listening. When the wind rushed past, it seized the chance to cheer him on with the rustling of its leaves.

"Look up," the tree whispered. "Look up... there's so much more to see."

Lucas stopped what he was doing and looked up.

"Hey! What did you say?" he said.

WARNING

When Silence Screams... Listen!

8

THE BOOK FRENZY

THE SPY'S REPORT that Lucas had taken delivery of the book sent Darkotika into a frenzy. Depending on what he did with it, it could be catastrophic for the kingdom. The evil council was furious that this had slipped by them. They hated being caught off guard. A nasty surprise of this kind could easily spell disaster if their position of control was lost. Control was the key.

It didn't take much to heat this place up. Tempers were always burning hot.

"How did this happen!" Scarp snarled and spun around. His eyes flashed. He was just one wicked warlock in a chamber full of many others like him. He was looking over reports posted by the Black Board.

No one answered him. Maybe it didn't help that he was big, burly, and beasty. Anyway, they were all busy with their own schemes. They were all hungry, all craving an evil feast. Everyone was working on their next kill. No one spoke unless they had to and they didn't have to unless they were outranked. Hate had poisoned them. Their sweat was a venom. They were all drenched in it.

"What's the difference?" One finally answered Scarp. "There are so many to choose from. If it's not this one you know it'll be another. What are you so cracked up about? Look at you, your hair's even starting to smoke!" he cackled at Scarp.

Scarp was like a hornet. He _knows_ something. There must be something or he wouldn't have bothered to answer, he guessed.

Everyone in Darkotika was suspicious. There was good reason to be. Well maybe _good_ isn't the word to use. No, you can't ever use the word good here. No one trusted anyone. You couldn't. It was horrible. They were all liars and thieves.

"Anyone can see that this boy has a... _meddlesome_ nature," Scarp began; his words were slow and grumbling. He gawked at the other's face for a clue. Nothing. He went on, "It's plain to see this boy has a fascination for the light. Even his mother knows it, and she's a Middling," his voice rumbled like a truck. "Surely you know the power that his Uncle Henry walks in," he was juiced for a comeback. "Remember they're blood relatives too," he coaxed.

"That despicable man!" the other one snapped back remembering how they had bungled their chance to eliminate Henry.

"See?" Scarp tugged some more. "We should have taken him out when we had the chance!" he snarled. He snorted, "He tricked us!" Now he was ranting. "He was just _this_ _close_ to selling out completely to us," he whined pinching his boney fingers together in front of the other warlock's face.

Scarp spun around, "We need to get to that book! At the very least we need to sidetrack the boy from reading it. He's dangerous. Any thoughts and dreams under the light point directly to Morning Star Kingdom. We need a diversion. Maybe someone close to him.... Who does he love?" Suddenly suspicion of the other warlock dropped. Scarp scrambled for a plan.

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon. Felix meowed out a long lion growl at Lucas.

"What do you want Felix?" Lucas looked up from the game he was playing. He loved the way he talked to him in his own special cat language.

Felix was calling from the toy chest where he was sitting like a turkey. When he saw Lucas roll off the bed to come over, he stood up and arched his back into a high stretch. A messy circle of knocked-aside toys circled the comfy book he had just taken his nap on.

Lucas shouldn't have been surprised to see the book that Uncle Henry left again, but he was. He had completely forgotten about it. Felix's heavy feet held it tight to the toy chest lid. Right now it was his throne. He was sitting there tall and majestic, blinking love-eyes at Lucas, settling in for a wonderful massage. So he wasn't impressed at being hauled up so the book could be stolen out from under him. The second Lucas put him down he jumped away in a fluster.

There was no wind but the leaves on the tree outside the window rustled anyway. The branch bounced. Two black feathered heads poked up to the glass for a look.

"Boring! Boring! Boring! They squawked their gig just like it was rehearsed.

Felix's instinct was to stalk them but he fought it off. He was still sulking and not in the mood. He shot one of his I'll chase you later looks at the birds and kept his cool by frantically licking his hind leg and tugging at a tussled piece of fur. He took a sudden break to sniff the red dragon, conquered, still lying face down on the floor where it met its demise earlier. His tail twitched and slapped down hard. He roared another lion-like meow, blinked his intense golden eyes leisurely, and walked away with his tail held high.

Lucas couldn't help notice the ravens' rant, but for the very first time he had an inkling of fascination for the book. He picked it up hoping to discover something, anything that snagged his interest. It still looked boring. The weathered leather cover looked a hundred years old.

"Cow! Cow!" The ravens screamed.

Lucas's thoughts jumped tracks. Instead of thinking about the book, he was thinking about cows. I wonder if this cover was made from cow leather, he thought. He held the book to his nose and sniffed. It smelled musty. He figured it was probably too old to tell. Suddenly his attention was caught up with the mess of things strewn around the floor at his feet. "Felix," he complained at his cat.

The spies were satisfied. They had good news to report. It was a close call, but the boy's attention had been diverted. The tree branch shivered empty again.

It was another school day. Radger arrived to class ahead of the bell. He switched on his photo-optic lenses and image scanner and captured everyone filing in to take their seats. No one paid any attention to him huddled, fluffed-up and comfy outside on the window ledge. The fidgety kids were rowdy. It was Friday and they were ready for the weekend even before the nine o'clock bell.

"Gee-eez. Doesn't anyone remember how good nice feels?" Sloane was upset.

She had just heard Jenny Mistalk call Shannon Whiteheart a horrid name and then trip her just be-cause she let someone cut ahead in line. And Harley Gangman just went berserk on John Morkind after he banged into him by accident. John was only catching up with a runaway soccer ball. For the first time ever there was a lunch-money thief in the school. Sloane just found out she was the target.

Even the science class creatures were acting up. The ant farm tipped over and cracked open and all the ants left the ranch. Somehow the three snakes had escaped from their aquarium. One was found half slithered between the bars of the mouse cage. The other two were still on the loose. The morning announcements advised students to be on the look-out. Everyone was excited. The Nimmers danced like ragdolls!

The sad thing was that they didn't remember "how good nice felt." Things were going from bad to worse. The not-so-long ago days of presumed innocence were becoming legendary.

Miss Goodwin noticed it too. She was baffled by the changes she was seeing in her class. She couldn't understand what had gotten into them. She always thought they got along pretty well most of the time. Now every day it was something. She had never seen such nit-picking.

Miss Goodwin tried to figure it out. She skimmed over the room. Lucas, Sloane... Maxx... they seemed the same, but most of the others were plain miserable. The back-talking, teasing and back-biting, she tried to remember when it started. It's like they all have monkeys on their backs, she thought. She was right.

The Nimmers were still there. They weren't leaving. No one told them to. Their tiny ears were hawkishly listening for trigger-words. Trigger words toted trouble. With a bunch of trigger-happy kids all in one place, there would be a gun-fight!

The truth was the Middlings _had_ forgotten just how _good nice feels_ and besides that anything that looked-like-nice was starting to feel, well... boring really. It wasn't that they wanted bad to touch them. But from the safety of the sidelines they tingled and tickled with the prickling of bad. The lure was charming. To be sure, when bad even hints at feeling good, you know you have a problem. And unless you hit the brakes, it's gonna be a _big_ one!

Miss Goodwin strolled the room. She was always trying to invent new ways to get through to her kids. They were like wet cement. This wasn't just a job to her. She was making an impression on them every day.

Her voice was firm when she called the class to attention. "Listen up everyone," she began. "This is serious," she told them. She casually wandered the alleys between the desk rows while they tuned in.

"Your mouth is like a wild animal so you need to tame your tongue." She started into it. "How many of you know that words can be like weapons? Some words are like a loaded gun." She wanted them to get it. She stopped patrolling the room and waited, every word was targeted. "Did you know that it's possible to say something to someone today... and they could remember your words for the rest of their lives?...I want you to think about that. Make sure your words build people up." She stopped to let her message soak in before going on.

Miss Goodwin was on a combat mission. "Choose your friends wisely, friends that know how to talk right. Hanging out with bad-talkers will have you bad-talking too. It's just the way it works." She wanted to be straight with them. "There's been too much bullying going on here lately. It needs to stop."

"What is she saying? Caldron sneered, "That _pretty_ little teacher is a trouble maker... she's teaching those kids far too many tricks. What's wrong with the Nimmers? Why don't they do something to shut her up?" The live flick reeling across the Darkot-atron had wizard Caldron smokin' mad. Miss Goodwin's moving speech to the class lit a spark in him. What she said next flared the flicker to a flame.

The silence in the classroom screamed so loud you could hear it. Miss Goodwin was gaining ground. The Nimmers dunked back into their safe-zone.

Miss Goodwin took a risk. Maybe they wouldn't grasp it, but what if they did? "Bad... evil...mean... it's a poison. It hurts others, yes..." she knew they could get that part, but the rest... it could be a lightning-bolt. She went for it, "...but if you're the one dealing-it, little by little you're poisoning _yourself_. Your own heart is turning _black_. Until one day, you find yourself thinking upside down. You start to believe bad is good and good is bad."

Silence was ringing off the walls. Miss Goodwin was shaking inside. She was almost done. She had to make them see the truth. "Trust me," she said. "Your words are alive. Your words have power. You can't control anybody else but _you_ _can_ control you. Today's Go-Dream rule is: Talk Right... Walk Right. Write it down."

"She's on to us!" Caldron shouted. "We need to get rid of her. I want her out of that classroom!" He cursed a string of vulgar lines. "Somebody grab her book!" he demanded. "We'll re-write it if we have to!"

He was pale faced and ghostly against his black cloak. The stiff lifted collar at his neck meant he was important. He outranked the lowly gray faced group around him. His outburst scared them to death. They scattered. All of them, racing for the library where the Black Hearts Books of Demise were shelved.

WARNING

When Trees Start Throwing Branches... Look Out!

9

IN LIKE A STORM

YOU DON'T JUST wake up one day and say to yourself, I'll remember this day as long as I live. It usually doesn't go that way. Some things just change and you don't even notice it until one day, it hits you. Other times, change comes in like a storm, ready or not. Lucas only knew that things felt different lately but he couldn't tell if it was good or bad.

And then one night there was a terrible storm. It sure seemed like a terrible storm anyway. The wind was a monster. It huffed and puffed and whirled and swirled then snorted a blast of hail down hard onto Paradox County.

A lot of the trees were terribly upset. They just couldn't take it. Many of them threw off their branches to keep from falling down all together!

When everything stopped, everyone came out of their houses. They said it was terrible. If they said it... then it was.

The mess looked horrific. But what if it wasn't horrific? What if it wasn't terrible after all? Some-times things do get messy before they get better. Sometimes things that seem awful actually have a gift inside... if you look for it. Sometimes it might be a miracle.

A week slipped by. The fallen trees and scattered branches had all been cleared up and things looked calm again, just how everyone liked it.

Things were even looking better at school. Lucas was relieved when Miss Goodwin had another desk moved into the classroom for Maxx. Well, he was sort of relieved. He wasn't sure how it happened but Maxx's desk was added to the back of Lenny's row, right behind him too. To top it off, he was right across from Lenny's sidekick Dexter Madagin.

Three and a half weeks had faded since Maxx's flashy landing. Lucas guessed that he and Lenny must be good friends by now but he couldn't figure out why. They were opposites. Lenny's cheap show off routines seemed to be working on Maxx. Dexter was always goofing around with him too.

It irked him when Miss Goodwin handed out the "Good Citizen Award" this month, commending Lenny for being so welcoming to Maxx. It was bizarre, but he had been. It was weird because it wasn't like him to be nice for nothing.

If it wasn't bad enough that Lenny and Dexter were bouncing like a ball for Maxx, Sloane was hooked by him too. Was it his fancy clothes and hoity-toity manners? Maybe. Whatever it was, he didn't like it. He could live with Lenny and Dexter drooling all over him. Not Sloane. It bugged him. It bugged him a lot.

The recess bell ordered everyone to come in. "Why are you talking to Maxx all the time?" Lucas griped at Sloane on the way back to class. He had just watched them hanging out together like they were having a party for two.

"What do you mean?" Sloane replied warily, seeing Lucas was upset.

"You're always talking to him," Lucas complained.

"I'm not always talking to him. I don't know what you mean..." Sloane answered carefully. "Well, I talked to him quite a bit today," she agreed. In her own mind, it was simple, "he's nice," she said. "He's interesting," she added. "You don't seem to like him very much. Why not?" She asked.

Lucas snapped back, "Because he's part of Lenny's gang, that's why." He didn't want to tell her there was a bigger reason than that.

Sloane was confused. With her nose wrinkling, "No he's not," she said.

"Well it sure looks like it," Lucas moped.

Sloane changed the subject. They could talk about this again later.

"How did you do on the science test?" she asked.

"Not too bad," Lucas mumbled, still looking down. "I got seventy two," he added, coming to life again. He didn't want to be miserable to Sloane. "What did you get?" he asked, knowing her mark would be good.

"Ninety eight." She smiled shyly and shrugged.

"Hey, that's good," Lucas told her with a broad smile. He wasn't surprised. The girl had some mighty fine brains.

The afternoon was busy. "Take out your note-books," Miss Goodwin instructed. "I've got two more Go Dream rules for you today. "And what does Dream stand for?" she quizzed them as usual.

They recited it off-by-heart in unison. "D - Don't give up on yourself. R - Realize you choose how to think, talk, and behave. E - Every day is a gift. A - Always act polite and kind. M - Make a difference! Go Dream!" the class shouted hard.

"Good," she said with a business-like smile. "Ok, ready?" She dove right in. The first one, "Be kind even when you don't feel like it," she announced. "Why?" she answered herself, "Because nice overcomes ugly."

"Oh, I need to add one more thing," Miss Goodwin told them, "I'm not talking about bullying... if you are being bullied, I want you go and tell an adult... and if it doesn't stop, go to another adult and tell them... and _keep_ on telling until you get help. Never handle it on your own. You're not alone. And don't you be listening to the dark-nasties talking in your head... they're lying to you. _You are worth loving... you are special... you are important_. Walk tall. Go Dream! Did everyone..." Miss Goodwin didn't get to finish.

"Look! A snake! Oh there's another one! Two of them! They just shot past the door!" Frankie Luredin was hyper. Heads spun to look.

Frankie flew from his desk with other kids vaulting out of their seats after him. The thrill drove them out to the hallway into a football-like huddle. "They're getting away!" Frankie shouted.

Miss Goodwin's mouth dropped. She was powder white. The word snake had her tied right where she was with her skin crawling. Suddenly it dawned on her that these were the run-aways from the science room.

Frankie and the gang were charging after them with the girls screaming like banshees. The two snakes zig-zagged down the hall as smooth as skaters on an ice rink. They went corkscrewing like maniacs around the bends in the hall like they knew exactly where they were heading. And maybe they did.

Buzzz! Ring...ing...ing! It was the fire alarm. With their hands squished against their ears, the third grade class beside the west wing doors would be first to exit the school. Just how the fire bell and the great snake escape clicked in perfect time, no one knows.

Ok. Well someone _does_ know. By now, you're likely figuring out how this works.

Anyway, the doors flung open with a crash against the brick and mortar wall behind. Whether it was a would-be escape for the children or a planned break-out, the snakes sling-shot like fresh elastic bands. Then landing as stiff as arrows, they skimmed across the grass like greased poles. What happened next would have been bizarre if you didn't know any better.

The posse of kids from 6B saw it all. Miss Goodwin was flitting around accounting for every-one. Principal Lemon was tromping across the field. He'd just missed stomping on one of the escapees. He said something hurried to Miss Goodwin before rushing away.

All of a sudden two raven spies swooped in like fighter jets. While everyone who saw watched in disbelief, both serpents were snatched up, and while they twisted ferociously, they were hauled away.

Radger radioed his allies. "Great hook-up guys. Squawk! Drop-off point is the Darkotika training lab," he screeched. A single black feather fluttering lightly to the ground was the only thing left behind. All of them were gone. For those who saw it, the break-out was an incredible show from beginning to end.

Just then, two black-faced boys and one red-faced teacher rounded the corner of the school. The boys were covered in smoky soot. Their blackened faces made the whites of their eyes shine like lights.

Lenny and Dexter spotted them right away and doubled over, roaring and laughing.

"They said they were going to do it," Dexter's face was like a tomato. "I can't believe they did it!" The two howl some more. By now students all over the school yard were gawking and snickering too.

Rising, wailing cries in the distance turned into a rushing ladder truck and rescue unit barging in on the scene. They zoomed into the yard and peeled over to the other side of the building. The billows of black smoke twisting and churning were soon puffy burnt marshmallow clouds rolling over the roof.

The story was, that a couple of grade seven boys had concocted a recipe for a prank experiment in the science lab. It must have worked!

Principal Lemon and the red-faced teacher held their surprise meeting with the two boys on the spot. In the end, the bragging heroes were goofs.

Watching from the side-lines, Lucas was bored. His imagination was ready to cook something up. Between Principal Lemon's mustard-yellow shirt, and the teacher's ketchup-red face, stand two real hot-dogs, he thought. What about the relish, he smirked, checking out the freshly cut cucumber green grass.

Finally things were wrapped up. They got back inside just in time for the final bell. Miss Goodwin ushered them out like she always did, "Ok class... Go Dream!"

The antics of the boys clowning in the science lab and stories about the great snake escape had everyone leaving the school with bobbling heads. The mood was still jacked-up by the time Lucas and his friends headed off the school property to his house for their club meeting.

No one knew why they actually had a club or why it should be a secret either. It just seemed like a good idea. That was all there was to it. But since they had decided it should be a secret. It seemed really important that it was.

There were two things that kept the club going strong, maybe three. No one could deny that Lucas's tree fort was the coolest of cool. Then, there was Mrs. Warbuck's amazing culinary style, complete with real cloth serviettes and fine china. Imagine... just for kids! She made each guest feel like royalty. A favorite treat of one-and-all were her delicious and very flaky "pigs-in-blankets," usually chased down by the chocolatee-est, chewiest ever, melt in your mouth brownies.

The fort had been built a long time ago. It must have been put together by someone with know-how. The walls were thick and smooth and if you could find any holes in the floor it was only because a knot had fallen out. Over time it had been updated and added to. Action in the fort teeter-tottered according to the occupants of the house. Over its lifetime there had been many kids claim their love for it, but no one quite like Lucas.

It was a matchless design for a tree fort. It was two stories tall. Really it was three if you counted the lookout way up top but no counted it now, because no one had climbed up that far in years. Maybe it was because the stairs leading up there were rickety. Maybe it was because the creeping tree foliage worked its way inside so it was hard to see. Either way, it was a hidden secret that the old tree had been keeping. One of them anyway. Keeping... but not from anyone really. No. It was keeping this amazing secret for someone and right now that someone was Lucas Warbuck.

Way up in the highest peak of the fort the beams formed a cross. Just under the arms of the cross a skylight kept watch. It was built out of some old storm windows; the kind of windows that vacationed in the garage every summer and guarded the house from an arctic bite during winter. They were hinged to open but it had been years since a sliver of light peeped in or more than a draft of air came wheezing through.

The glass was over-decorated with decomposed leaves and silt. Even if someone had been bent on climbing up there the skylight was camouflaged like it was ready for war. The greenery and undergrowth were holding on so tight that it seemed nothing but a _miracle_ would ever loosen their grip. The secret was very well hidden.

Today there were only four of them heading to the meeting. The school crowd bulged along the forest edge then shrunk again when it came to cutting down the path. One of the boys heading off yelled back, "Hey Lucas, wanna come to the movies on Saturday?" he asked.

"I don't know. Maybe. It depends what's on," Lucas called back. The boy was drifting too far away to talk.

Soon, the pack was whittled down to four of them again.

Maybe it was visions of pigs in blankets dancing a jig on top of brownies, or worry about Lenny catching up, but no one noticed the trees. Was it a fluke? Or were they waving to get their attention?

Quiet broke in on their chitchat. It was the kind of quiet in the woods where the sound of snapping twigs and squishing leaves under tromping feet bounced back. The rushing water under Hawk's Bridge tickled the rocks and pebbles below. The river was giggling today. Now they were laughing too. No one had a worry. They felt like they could stay there all day.

The simple message of the trees would have been easy to miss anyway. The sun blazed bright and the sky blinked blue. Fun was in the air. So what was the deal with the trees? Something had their leaves in a shimmy. Was it a mysterious message, or just a gusty-breeze?

WARNING

Don't Just Stand There... Run!

10

RUNNING WILD

IT WASN'T THAT complicated. The meeting wasn't a secret after all, at least not from Lenny anyway. Sloane had slipped up and told Maxx about it, and Maxx hadn't known enough not to tell Lenny about it. In fact, the spies stung like peppercorns on the power lines had told all of Darkotika about it. What Lucas didn't know was that Lenny was gaining ground fast, in more ways than one. As soon as Maxx spilled the beef about the club meeting, Lenny was buzzing like a hornet on their trail. Something was pushing his buttons. He didn't have a plan. He didn't know what he would do if he did catch up to them. It didn't matter because the Nimmer did.

There was a trigger somewhere in his head just waiting to be squeezed if anyone could find it. The loose hanging Nimmer was lazily riding along, happy to finally have his own mount again. Suddenly, he was busy. The little backpack slung from his shoulders was his cache. The instrument he grabbed flipped like a switchblade. Lenny felt a quick jab. Now he was mad!

Lately he was mad at everything. His patience was wearing as thin as the old t-shirt he was wearing. It was a grind trying to sweet-talk Maxx into letting him come over to his place. He wasn't having much luck.

Today he was already frustrated. He hated having anyone come to his house. In fact, no one had ever come before except Dexter. Instead of him going to Maxx's house, Maxx was coming home with him tonight. It was the only thing he could think of to keep in tight with him.

Dexter was as annoying as heck too. He only kept him around because he could treat him like a dog. Dex didn't seem to mind.

Needles of jealousy were jabbing in. Lenny was sizing-up Lucas. He was a spoiled brat too. At first it was only a game to bug him. Now it was a need.

Lenny's dark-tilted ways were beginning to siphon the life out of him. Just like Miss Goodwin had warned, shadow-spots were appearing on his heart. At his young age it should have been bright red and full of life but instead rot was already setting in. If anyone cared... if anyone knew... it should have set off an alarm. But who cared?

Lenny's sneakers slapped the trail churning like a treadmill under his feet. He was on a tear. He whipped around to shoot Dexter a sparkly glare. He and Maxx were falling behind. They needed to hustle if they were going to catch up with Lucas and his groupies.

Lenny was miserable. The craving was eating him up. He needed a bug-fest. It would make him feel better at least for the moment. It always did. Well, that's what he thought anyway. The truth? He was sucking Darkotika's poison.

Dexter was bumbling along like the big lug that he was, goofing around with Maxx like they were best friends. He must have had a huge wad of something in his mouth because he was chewing _big_ and chewing _slow_.

Lucas and his friends were coming up to Lenny's house. A sting of ravens hoping for a showdown had assembled early on a hydro line. They cheered them on. Another rowdy group just flapping-in squawked a complaint when the kids got up to Lenny's front yard.

Just looking at the house had Lucas's nerves snapping. His stomach felt like a rock. Someone's watching. I can feel it, he said to himself. His hunch was cut short.

"Owe!" Sloane howled. Lucas broke into a dread-sweat.

"I must have a stone in my shoe," Sloane cried, plopping down on the sidewalk. She pulled off her sandal and tipped it upside down. Everyone stopped to wait.

When the three boys walked from behind the leafy green curtain that draped the edge of the woods, it was like they were stepping onto a stage. At least that's how Lucas saw it. The fireworks were about to begin. He had the jitters. The kind that could spin aftershocks for three days.

"Oh no!" Lucas cried, "It's Lenny! C'mon Sloane hurry up!" he pleaded with her. "He's got a couple other guys with him too."

"I'm trying... owe. Just a minute." Sloane didn't seem the least bit uptight. She was still calmly struggling back into her shoe.

Lucas wished he could run.

"Hey Sloane, wait up! Sloane!" someone yelled.

Lucas could see that it was Maxx shouting. It's likely a trick, he huffed. He was with Lenny and Dexter. That could only mean trouble.

"Oh! It's Maxx, Lucas." Sloane was drenched in delight and not the least bit bothered. "I wonder what he's doing here? He's with Lenny?" she said.

"That's what I've been trying to tell ya," Lucas insisted. "He's part of his gang. Now c'mon let's go!"

"Yeah, come on Sloane, let's go," Sergio and Nick urged, already drifting away.

Sloane was scrambling to her feet, clapping her shoe on the sidewalk, wiggling back into it with a dance. She didn't get Lucas's worries about Maxx. He wasn't part of any gang of Lenny's. Still, it was weird to see him here. She hopped up beside Lucas.

"Ribbit, Ribbit."

"Ewe. Yuk. It's a big fat gross frog!" Sloane squealed. The pudgy frog's button-eyes stared blank. He was nestled in a hollowed out shady spot under a bush by the sidewalk. Lucas had warned her there were lots of them around here now. Even though she wasn't a girly-girl, she wasn't a fan of amphibians!

As for Maxx, he had only decided to hang with Lenny tonight to get him to lay-off. Lenny had been pestering every day to go home with him after school. He was trying to put him off. He agreed to go to his house instead today. He was happy to see Sloane up ahead. He really wanted to catch up with her.

To everyone's surprise, Lenny took off running full throttle. His oversized feet thwupping hard on the cement made him sound way bigger than he was, at least that's the way Lucas heard it. Today, he was a giant.

Now Dexter and Maxx were running wild too. The sidewalk was on their side. It was like a flying carpet. They'd be there in no time.

The only things wobbling faster than Dexter's satellite-dish ears were Lucas's knees. That's it. I'm toast, Lucas told himself. He couldn't run and leave Sloane. He grabbed her by the arm and gave her a tug.

The other boys bolted to the front of his house. About now a fake-out would be good, Lucas thought. He didn't want Lenny and his gang thinking he was running away from them. He called ahead to his friends and ran a few steps to make it seem like he and Sloane were just catching up with them.

Just like a squirrel monkey, the Nimmer riding on Dexter nit-picked through his hair, stopping to nibble on his findings. Suddenly, he quit his preening ritual to dig through his backpack for a needle. Like he'd done this a million times, and with the skill of a brain surgeon, he injected a big dose-of-nasty into Dexter's mind. Then, quick as lightening, he was back to his scavenger hunt through Dexter's mop. Dexter already had a mean streak but this was different. The talking board game had him on a leash. Ever since that day, his messy life felt way worse. If anyone asked him, and no one did, he would have said nothing was different. But it was. Before, he was just moody and easy to rile. Now he carried a load of lead on his shoulders. Everything was hard. He was starting to understand that he hated his life. Just like Lenny, he was biting the bait. The red was draining out of his heart.

Just like Lenny too, right out of the blue, he was bugged by Lucas Warbuck for no reason. The guy just irked him that's all. He didn't even try to figure out why. He was a yellow-bellied mama's boy, and that was enough to make any tough guy like him mad. He just wanted to get under his skin... to get back at him, just because he could. Bullying meant nothing to Dexter. It's just what he did. It was anyone's guess where it would end.

WARNING

If You Hear Someone Hoarking A Wad Behind You: Duck!

11

GOBSMACKED!

"HEY WATCH THIS," Dexter smirked at Maxx through gooey black teeth. He swiped his arm across his mouth and slurped back the glob of mucky drool land-sliding over his lip and down his chin.

Maxx was freaked out. First by the disgusting gunk oozing from Dexter's mouth, and then because he was trying to read the gleam in his eyes. It made him squirm. He was up to something and it wasn't good.

Lucas was flipping out. He was sure someone was ready to jump him. It was like Lenny and the boys were snorting steam at the back of his neck.

The horrific sound started all-of-a-sudden-like and dragged on forever. It was the kind of racket that instantly scared you silly, mostly because you couldn't tell what it was at first. Smack-bang in the middle of it, Lucas knew. A split second later came the whupping sound. Someone was _hoarking a wad!_ It came speeding like a rocket, blasting like a storm right at the back of his head. Splat!

"Aha, ha-ha, ahaaa!" Dexter was bent over holding his stomach, laughing his head off. He didn't even try to hold back the muddy slobber from his mouth leaking like a spigot, splashing all over the sidewalk. Lenny was busting over laughing too.

Even though he wanted to run like a race horse, Lucas only took a couple more steps. With eyes wide, he reached for the back of his head and rubbed his hair. A glob of slime oozed through his fingers. "Ewe, Yuk!" he whispered to himself. Yup. He knew it. He was just gobsmacked!

He didn't need to hunt for clues about the sewer-smelling black muck on his icky fingers. Dexter was already impressing the heck out of Lenny about the "chewin' tobacco" his uncle Donny gave to him last night.

"He gave me a whole pack and it was brand new, never been opened," he bragged. With his mouth stretched like a worn out rubber tire, he was finally trying to keep more guck from spilling out.

By now Lenny's face was so red it looked like it had been torched. He was howling like a hyena. "That was awesome dude!" he cheered Dexter with arms flailing toward Lucas. "Wasn't that cool Maxx? Look at him!" He pointed at Lucas. "He looks just like a skunk. He's got a stripe on his back and everything... and he even stinks too!" He and Dexter broke out in a new round of hooting and laughing.

Lucas's gut ached like he'd been slugged in the stomach. He wanted to barf. He wished he could stand up to these guys but he couldn't. It just wasn't in him. None of the others would either. They all ran like gazelles. Except Sloane. She swung around with eyes like fireballs, glaring at Lenny and Dexter. "You guys are such creeps!" she yelled. Dexter grinned goofy. "Oh oh, Lucas. I'm so scared! Here comes your little _girl_ friend to the rescue," he taunted.

"Yeah Lucas, you loser! Are you gonna let your little girl friend fight your battles for you? Or maybe your mommy can come out here in her hair curlers and scare the daylights out of us instead!" Lenny heckled. Both he and Dexter broke out laughing again.

The words cut Lucas like a knife. He was going after his mother now too. He knew she wore curlers? He must have been spying, he guessed.

Lucas's feet were so-o-o glued to the ground. He was an easy target for Lenny to swipe his backpack off him and toss it to Dexter. The high sailing backpack ping-ponged back and forth with the two of them beaming. When Lucas's legs finally came loose, he zigzagged like a mad squirrel to catch his bag.

This is nuts! Maxx thought to himself. He wasn't used to this kind of craziness and didn't know what to do. Where he came from manners were compulsory and adult supervision was nearly constant. Even in his short time here he had seen these boys harassing other kids too. It was troubling.

The only reason he was here today was because he hadn't figured out yet how to politely fend off Lenny's endless determination to hang out with him. So far, he always managed to come up with something but today he was stuck. He was running short of excuses.

Now he had seen enough.

The schoolbag was tumbling towards Dexter. He was ready for the catch. Suddenly, as if he had springs in his sneakers, Maxx bounced up. He snagged the bag and gave it a slick toss to Lucas.

Lenny's mouth dropped open in disbelief.

Dexter was smoking-hot furious! His face was painted red. "You stupid punk!" he yelled at Maxx.

Maxx didn't have time to think but he was ready to react. Dexter was a monster charging straight at him. He stepped aside. Dexter fell like dead weight to the ground. He staggered up with an explosion setting off in his eyes. Maxx would have preferred to end it but instead the two boys stalked each other. It was like a modern day gun-fight.

Dexter rushed for a take-down but it wasn't Maxx who ended up in a heap. Maxx shocked everyone. He was like a professional MMA fighter. Dexter was stupid enough to want more. In self defense, Maxx twisted Dex into a trip take-down position. A second later he was hurled to the ground with the wind knocked out of him. Dexter was stunned. It would have been better if he gave up right then but he didn't. He scrambled back up, then in a surprise move he grabbed Maxx hard, trying for a clinch. But Maxx was ready for him with a shoulder-drive exit.

Dexter was red faced and hotter than a pistol but now he'd had enough. Still a bit dazed, he was nearly drowning in confusion. This had never happened to him before. The kid must have something under-the-hood he figured. Under those fancy clothes of his, the guy had some muscle and guts too.

"Your mother would be ashamed of you!" Sloane suddenly lashed out at Lenny. She didn't know what made her say that. She was used to choosing her words more carefully. Lenny's story was a rocky one. He didn't even know where his mother was. No one did.

Sloane never wanted to be mean. She'd already figured out that mean always feels bad. Sometimes it takes time to catch up with you. The temptation to be mean fakes-you-out. But the feel-good doesn't last. It's gonna bite you back. As soon as the words flew out of her mouth she wished she could take them back.

This time _mean_ snapped back fast. The look on Lenny's face said it all. He looked like he was just stung by a bee. Sloane didn't know what to say. How could she undo it? She sputtered, trying to tell him she was sorry, but Lenny would have none of it. His face turned tough-as-nails. He called her a filthy name and said she was, "just stupid anyway." She could see through the gritty look on his face. It was like he was a lonely, lost little boy. And maybe he was.

After that everyone left. Dexter was surprised when Lenny just mumbled, "See you tomorrow," before turning away to follow the crumpled ribbon of a sidewalk into the house. Dexter did an about-face and left troubled, with droplets of sweat pooling under his eyes. At least for now, Maxx was blackballed from going with Lenny anymore. He trailed Lucas and Sloane into Lucas's backyard.

"Gee, thanks Maxx." Lucas blurted, just beginning to catch his breath. This was the first time he felt like he could let his guard down around him. He couldn't believe how Maxx had just come through for him. He still didn't get it, but wondered if maybe he misjudged him after all.

With a sideways glance, Sloane's gave Lucas a sassy smile. Her eyes were twinkling at both of them.

"Yeah, you were awesome dude!" Sergio exclaimed.

"That was so cool! Hey, where'd you learn those moves man?" Nick wanted to know.

"Awe, it was nothing," Maxx replied. He didn't want to be a hero. "When I was away at camp last summer," he said casually, trying to deflect the attention, "one of the leaders taught some of us guys a few moves. He was pretty good. He won the belt in his division. I didn't think that I would still re-member how to do it." Now the corners of his mouth swayed to a smile.

"Well, you were amazing! You really fixed ol' Dex. That was awesome!" Sergio was still sounding off.

"What were you doing with those guys anyway?" Nick quizzed Maxx. "You don't seem like the kinda guy to hang around with creeps," he added.

"Yeah, I know. Well," Maxx started to explain. "At first I thought Lenny was an OK guy. He was cool when I started school here. He showed me around. I liked him." Maxx said.

"So... you didn't already know him? You weren't friends already before you came here?" Lucas was trying to get the story straight.

Maxx looked a little confused and answered a solid "no."

Sloane shot an, I told you so, look at Lucas, but didn't say anything.

Maxx went on, "Lenny's been after me every day. He wants to come over to my house. It never worked out so I was coming to his house today instead." Maxx was too polite to say that really, he was trying to avoid Lenny, but he wasn't catching on.

"Besides," Maxx wanted to make things clear, "Lenny and Dexter are bullies. I wanted to find out what their deal is. Lenny seems to like me. I thought maybe I could talk to him. To both of them. They don't scare me."

Lucas was impressed with Maxx's full-blown confidence. He wished he could be like that. Maxx was even trying to make friends with the kids Lenny and Dexter were picking on. That was good too.

Sloane was right. Maxx really was nice. Lucas felt bad for the way he judged him. His mom was right too. It looked like he had a new friend. Still, he was going to stick close to Sloane.

The oak tree was waiting. Nick announced he had a guitar lesson and could only stay for half an hour. Sergio needed to leave before dinner today too.

The fort ladder hung like a welcome mat. A moment later they were all huddled together on the deck casually gazing into Lenny's yard. The windows hanging like billboards against the clapboard siding clearly said they were off-limits. Everyone was wondering the same thing. Was Lenny watching them? And maybe he was.

Like teeth on a witch-doctor's necklace, a chain of ravens with hawkish eyes spanned the rooftop. There was something else too... or someone.

If it hadn't been for the stale, white, house paint, grayed nearly to the same colour as the peeled off parts, maybe her dull pewter eyes would have stood out more. And, if it wasn't so still with the afternoon dying, someone could have blamed the movement of the tattered curtain sheers on a fluttering of the wind. Even the heat rising off the crumbling slate roof under the window couldn't melt Clair Voyance's icy, arctic stare.

WARNING

Don't Look Down!

12

A TRICK OF THE LIGHTS

"WOW, THIS IS cool!" Maxx was dazzled. "It's great up here!" he announced, swinging around and dipping into the fort door. It was like Maxx was on the brink of something exotic. The others were right there with him.

When Maxx proclaimed the place as "amazing," Lucas was delighted. It would have to be special to impress Maxx. And it was. There was something extraordinary about this place and every-one who came here knew it.

The sun-spilled doorway welcomed everyone like an honored guest. Slivers of light dangling like prisms between the wall-board cracks gave the place a near mystical feel. When the cross-slatted window shutters swung open, the tree fort came alive.

"Wow!" Maxx exclaimed again. He was in awe, soaking it in.

Except for any patchy worn spots, the thick timber walls and floors were smooth and aged to a cinnamon brown. Lucas's on-going jungle phase brought in the current décor. The drama and detail urged his father to come up with some palm grass for thatched roofing to create a jungle effect. With shaggy grass feathering the open windows, both inside and out the fort became a tropical rainforest tiki hut.

The aged black ceiling fan in the center was never meant to work. The white silk mosquito net draping from the fan paddles circled the seating area like a tent. Everyone wanted to sit in the rope and slat chairs instead of the less-dreamy, built-in benches. They were single-seaters, dangling on the ends of old ship-ropes hooked into the vaulted ceiling. It was always a race to see who could get to them first.

Against one wall, box cubbies chock-full of goodies and treasures hung in rows beside a stack of built in bunks. The sagging rope steps on the wood rail ladder had survived a bazillion rowdy nights, but could still hoist more barefooted friends up and down and in and out, and up and down again.

It wasn't planned, but the trinkets in the fort threw color splashes around the whimsical cloud-effect of the mosquito net. It all looked like something out of a designer magazine.

"My mom would even like this place...," Maxx blurted out at Lucas.

The others were lounging, swaying lazily in the swing chairs. Maxx didn't seem to care where he sat. Finally he and Lucas plunked down on benches across from each other.

The meeting was called to order. Trivial announcements were made, then on to the important stuff. Today it was all about Maxx. After the walloping he gave Dexter, it was unanimous. Maxx was voted into the club.

Mrs. Warbuck brought out milk and chocolate Mud Cookies to start. Time flew, and Sergio and Nick rushed off.

"These Mud Cookies are so good," Sloane said, reaching for another one. "I need to get this recipe from your mom," she told Lucas. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a splash of water hit her hand. An instant later two more drips rained down. "Hey... I'm getting wet!" she cried looking up. "Where's that coming from? What's going on?" she asked.

Three heads bobbed back. Another drip shot down from the rafters. "That's weird," Lucas said jumping to his feet.

"That was a pretty big storm we had, maybe the roof is leaking," Maxx suggested looking around.

"Hey, there's a puddle of water over here too," Sloane said, pointing.

Lucas was already yanking on a rope twined around a beam on the second level and balancing on the wooden toe-holds nailed into the wall.

"No surprise if the roof is leaking," he yelled down. "The tree is growing right through up here!" he cried.

Dangling on the rope, he began tearing at the foliage. Yup, it's wet, he said to himself.

"Ouch!" His hand jerked back. His finger caught something sharp.

"What's the matter Lucas," Sloane yelled up.

"I think I cut myself on something," he called back down.

"Oh no! On what? Are you ok?" Sloane was anxious.

"I'm OK," Lucas yelled down. "It's pretty wet up here. There must be a leak," he added, searching around some more. The upper alcove was a squared off four-by-four space. He tugged at more of the underbrush.

Suddenly, a surprise!

"What the heck?" he said to himself. "Cool! Hey you guys there's a window up here," he shouted down. "The roof is made out of windows! It's like a skylight... only you can't see it 'cause it's all covered up with rotten leaves and gunk."

Sloane and Maxx looked at each other blankly and dodged leaf-bits and twigglings fluttering to the floor.

"I never knew there were windows up here," Lucas muttered to himself. He was hollering again, "Hey, it looks like they open up too!" He was excited.

"That sounds so cool!" Sloane called back, swishing a leaf off her shoe. "Skylights would be awesome in here," she cried. "I want to see!" She leapt for the ladder. "I'm coming up Lucas," she shouted.

Maxx followed her. A shower of leafy greens cascaded past. He was only part way up and already wheezing hard.

By the time they reached Lucas, the tightest clingers locking the two windows had been ripped loose. "Look out you guys," Lucas called back. "I think I can get it open," he said, giving the latch a hard jerk. Suddenly the heavy windows bumped and dropped open. Lucas threw himself out of the way and grabbed for a beam.

"Whoa!" Maxx cried, startled. All at once a burst of crisp air rushed in. Suddenly his lungs felt brand new.

Lucas was so anxious to see the cool view from up there that he was already wiggling and twisting up into the rafters. With a leg-swing up, he was through the skylight. What? Something is _weird_ , he said to himself, trying to make sense out of what he was seeing.

"Wow!" he gasped, scrambling to stand. "Look at this!" he was hysterical. "Come on you guys! Hurry up! You gotta see this!" His words were racing.

Maxx and Sloane shot a quick look at one another wondering why Lucas was so wound up. Sloane had never heard him like this before.

Sloane sputtered a yucky spider web out of her mouth, slapped aside a straggly branch poking through the wall, and hoisted herself on the rafters. She popped up beside Lucas, panting hard. Maxx followed her.

What was this? None of them could believe it! Where was the tree top?

"Ohhh!" Sloane exhaled.

"Wha...?" Maxx lost his voice.

The moment was like a freeze-frame photo in the middle of a cosmic menagerie. Instead of standing on the top of the fort roof, it seemed they were standing on the balcony of the universe!

The intergalactic space was amazing! Planets, stars and galaxies hung in an unfathomable backdrop of inky-black. The light show was spectacular.

Sloane's remarkable love for learning had her remembering that the universe was still expanding, and at an accelerated rate. Who does this sort of thing at a time like this?

"Hey, I think that's Mars over there!" Sloane exclaimed. Their front-row seats in this universal theatre had her flipping out. She was already pointing out planets in the solar system. "Oh look there's Jupiter, and there's Saturn beside it," she cried. "Wow, see how big it is? Just look at the beautiful rings around it! Did you know Saturn has at least sixty two moons?" She was ecstatic and breathless. It wasn't normal for her. She was usually the one to keep her head on straight.

While Sloane was riding high, Maxx wasn't at all looking at the planets or getting lost in the moment. This is crazy! He thought. His mind was spinning with questions that finally tumbled out of his mouth. "Where are we? How did we get here?" he asked.

While those two were doing their own thing... Lucas was in a dazed stupor. Nothing was registering.

"This is incredible! See all those light specs?" Sloane was going nuts. She was a talking textbook, "Each one is a galaxy. They could even be thirteen billion years old!"

Lucas's brain finally defrosted. His eyes were twinkling too. "Yeah, look at all this!" he exclaimed.

With one foot in a dreamland and the other warily reaching back for sure footing, Lucas was mindful of how they got here. All they did was step through the skylight. The open window was proof. It was still there beside his feet. He wondered why he couldn't see the tree or his backyard down below.

Is this real? He asked himself with teeth chattering. It had to be. If this was just a dream why could he see Maxx and Sloane's breath steaming? Why was his heart ready to burst? The choke in his throat was fighting back tear pools in his eyes. _It is real_... he whispered to himself. _I just know it_ , he believed his heart.

If anything at all was clicking in his head, Lucas might have thought a little deeper about the panoramic view of the town of Target below. Even if he had though, how would he ever figure this out? There was way more action than usual for the typically quiet town. The whole place was bustling with activity!

As neat as a freshly buzzed haircut, the forest running along the river helped him find his school. From there he could easily find his street in the maze of tiny doll-houses and spot the rooftop of his own house. Moving cars looked like toys on tracks. But there was something else. It must be an illusion, just a trick of the lights, he told himself. Or nothing. But it didn't look like nothing.

Gray shadows moved like people. Some were big. Some were small. Some were holding things, he couldn't tell what. Weird, Lucas thought to himself looking closer. Groups marched like armies. Even more spectacular. A glowing airborne freeway spi-ralled to the skyline, transporting the creatures in and out. They zoomed like electrons through a high voltage cable. That was one kind, but there was another. These ones glittered like jewels. They were fluttering and flitting everywhere. Some of these marched together too. What on earth? Lucas said to himself. It was a ball of confusion in his mind. A kaleidoscope. From what he could tell, his home town, maybe even the whole earth, was occupied by fantasmic invaders that looked like they were from another world. And maybe they were.

He checked to see if Maxx and Sloane saw it too. They hadn't. They were too busy star-gazing.

"Hey look!" Lucas's eyes lit up. "Look over there!" he shouted.

WARNING

That's Not a Campfire Weenie Roast!

13

BLACK AND LIGHT

"WHAT IS THAT?" Sloane wondered out loud. "Wow, it's so bright it hurts my eyes. What do you think it is, another sun maybe?" she asked.

"I don't know," Lucas stared into the glistening blaze. "It's amazing!" he exclaimed. "It's too bright," he said turning away. "I can't look. I'm starting to see spots," he cried.

"That's Morning Star Kingdom," a gallant voice bounced back.

"Hey!" Lucas yelled. They all jumped.

"Who said that?" Sloane called.

"I did," the voice echoed again.

All at once, a huge wind funnel surfed past. A great whooshing of flapping wings announced the remarkable bird's arrival. He landed in mid-air, on who knows what... only a few feet away.

"Oh!" Lucas jumped. Maxx had the biggest smile he could make.

"Oh look, it's an eagle!" Sloane shouted with delighted eyes popping. Then as if all of this was normal she said, "Hi. What's your name?"

The eagle was a giant, five times the size of a regular boy. Lucas was relieved to see that he seemed friendly, but it was plain he could be fierce if he wanted to be.

His massive, yellow hooked beak looked like a hawkbill blade. His muscle-man podium legs ended with an artillery of incredible talons. He was amazing. Everything here was!

"My name is Nunzio." His voice blared like a boom-box. His spyglass eyes were intense and sharp... no question, he was wise.

At first it was hard to believe that this amazing bird was talking to them, a moment later it just seemed normal.

Nunzio inhaled deep. His butter-yellow beak opened wide and his stout, pink tongue waggled. "First things first. You need to know just what you're getting yourself into, coming here," he said.

Knowledge is power you know. But knowledge without a lick-of-sense how to use it right can be like not knowing anything at all! It's like having a... what do you Middlings use to get yourselves around in?" Ahumm, he cleared his throat. "Yes a car. Oh that's it. It seems so... ah... clumsy you know... you should really try flying it's a much better way to get around. Much better indeed." He stopped and leaned over to make sure they were paying attention. He seemed satisfied and went on.

"Knowledge without wisdom is like having a car and no keys to drive it! What good would that be?" Then he muttered to himself, "It would be no good at all. No, not good."

He may be wise, Lucas thought to himself, but he's an odd bird! He wondered what the eagle meant when he said they needed to know what they were getting themselves into. They didn't plan on getting _into_ _anything_. He didn't remember asking to come here. After all, they had only just stumbled upon this place hadn't they?

Nunzio was back on track, "As I was saying," he continued, "Once you have knowledge you need to know how to use it. That's where wisdom comes in. Understanding how to use what you know can take you to the moon..." he paused as one wing fanned open towards the moon, "And bring you back again too." He was smiling as much as eagles can smile. His wing flapped neatly into place again.

Nunzio was thinking. His voice sank to a mysterious tone. "If you have in mind to go to Darkotika," his eyes were piercing, "You are going to want to know you're coming back again that's for sure. So listen up and I'll tell you some things you're going to need to know."

The three of them had some _big_ questions, but no one wanted to interrupt the great eagle. First of all, what was a Darkotika they all wondered, and as far as they knew they didn't remember saying anything about wanting to go there. Besides, from the suspense in Nunzio's voice and what he was saying, they were pretty sure that they _would_ _not_ want to go there!

There were two things easy to see about Nunzio. He was wise, and he was on their side. With eyes watery and hearts thumping, they also knew they'd better listen closely to what he had to say. Their life could depend on it. And maybe it would.

"First of all," Nunzio began, "Morning Star Kingdom always _was_. It never _was_ _not_. It is _thee_ superior kingdom," he stressed. "Always was, always will be. Nothing will ever, ever change that," he reassured.

He ballooned up with a deep breath, then away he went. "Now," he began, "Way back near the time when time began there was a rebel; a traitor who believed he should be worshipped and adored like the King. And that's impossible... of course, there's no one like the King!"

Nunzio's wing tips touched together like hands. His eyes sweetened. Anyone could see he dearly loved the King. Suddenly he was rigid, talking about the rebel again. "He was extremely handsome and gifted... wow did he have talents! Not only that, he already held a position of great importance in the kingdom," Nunzio paused to inspect his wide-eyed visitors. "For now," he said, "it's enough to know that he defected from Morning Star Kingdom and when he did he took a huge legion of the King's army with him. They all moved over there." On cue, the eagle's wing opened like a shield. Their heads all bobbled to take a look.

At first, there was no sign of anything at all. You really had to look to see it. You could only catch glimpses of it. It was like a volcanic, orange flickering rim circling a low burning campfire.

"It's called Darkotika," Nunzio's voice was a dry rumble. "When the enemy defected his given name was erased. He became Dragkon. He crowned himself the king of Darkotika."

There was no sound whatsoever coming from any of them except for the sound of their wilted breathing. They were dog-earing Nunzio's words to chew over later. No one cared how they got here, what they were doing here, or what would happen next. They wanted to know more, and Nunzio delivered.

"Before Darkotika, the earth and the realms beyond were mixed together. Morning Star Kingdom and the earth were in harmony and Morning Star Kingdom was not only here," Nunzio waved a wing across the stars, "it also had an established presence on the earth. You need to understand that Morning Star Kingdom isn't just a place, it's a government," Nunzio explained. "It operates according to the word of the King," he stated.

"Then, the regions of Morning Star Kingdom crossed through the margin around the earth. The light of Morning Star Kingdom was lavish and rich and it gave life to the earth. The Middlings didn't have a care in the world. Everything was _good_. They were citizens of Morning Star Kingdom, united in love, and _they were happy!_ They were happy because of the Kings great love for them. He had nothing but good for them, all the time.

Nunzio was drama-bird. He was like watching a show. A moment ago he was jubilant. Now he was stern.

"But then something terrible happened," he said, his face was like a rocky crag. "In an act of trickery, Dragkon persuaded the Middlings that Darkotika should have a place in their world. And because the King of Morning Star Kingdom had given them free-will instead of making them robots, the Middlings could decide for themselves what was best. And they did."

"Now remember that knowledge and wisdom I was talking to you about?" Nunzio leaned way in to search their faces. "Well it seems the Middlings didn't have enough of either," he said, clearly upset. "Maybe it was because up until then the King had always taken care of them. So, the Middlings thought they knew-it-all. They didn't bother to ask the King. He certainly would have warned them." He winced, then firmly stated, "They went right on with it and believed the lies of Dragkon."

"It was a sad, sad day. I remember it like it was only yesterday." Nunzio's eyes glistened with tears. The saddest thing was that it grieved the heart of the King to lose his much-loved Middlings. He adored them... and still does! He even carries a picture of each one of them carved right into the palm of his hand. Yes... it was very sad," the eagle's words faded. His head drooped. He was deflated.

"But that's not all of it, there's so much more." Now he was ballooning big, "What I'm about to tell you will make you very glad!" he chirped.

"As for the Middlings, their first clue that something was wrong was when the light beams lasering down from Morning Star Kingdom, fizzled out! Little did they know, but the moment they agreed with the thinking of Darkoticism, they handed the controls of their world to Darkotika."

Nunzio was roller-coastering through the story. "It was a horrible transfer. Instead of light, darkness was the new rule. The authority of Morning Star Kingdom shifted out of the earthly territory that day. The life-giving light of the King no longer shone. Thank goodness the King owns the sun or Darkotika would have shut it down too."

Nunzio's wing feathers shivered before he explained, "So now instead of sons and daughters of the King, the Middlings were slaves to Dragkon and the laws of Darkotika. It's been that way ever since then."

The kids' eyes were like flying-saucers. They could hardly believe what the eagle was saying but they knew it must be true. Nunzio was talking about _their_ world. Now they were really wondering about the good news he was talking about. They hoped hard that he would tell them, but when Nunzio went on there was no good news yet. Instead it got worse. "The Middlings were shocked! The Kings Guards were gone! And although they couldn't see them, the whole place was full of Darkotika's sorcerers, scoundrels and devils!"Every word had Lucas, Sloane and Maxx hanging with chills crawling all over them. It was hard to catch a good breath with such scary news that just kept on rolling, reeling like a horrible movie in their minds.

"One minute the Middlings were as free as the air," Nunzio was telling them, "and the next, they were caught in a trap. They didn't know what happened! They didn't even know what fear was but now they were terrified! They'd never been afraid before. There was never any reason to be afraid. One thing they did know was that something awful had just happened and they didn't know what to do about it. The truth is there was nothing they could do."

The three of them were dazed trying to figure out what all of this meant. The sparkle in their eyes was gone. Nunzio was talking about Middlings... them... their world. What kind of future could they possibly have? Knowing the truth, it seemed hopeless.

Nunzio's words snapped their attention, "Don't be sad." The hope in his voice was bright. "Listen, that's not all. After that, something wonderful happened!" he shouted.

The eagle took a deep breath and smiled as much as eagles can smile. "What do you think the Middlings wanted most that day?" He didn't wait for their answer. "They wanted to see the King of course. And what do you think the King wanted that day?" He couldn't wait to tell them. "He wanted to see his cherished Middlings of course! He loved them just as much as he always had. And, on that day, that terrible, awful day, the King came down from his throne in Morning Star Kingdom to tell them that. And...," Nunzio's eyes were dancing, " _he activated his plan to get everything back again_!" he exclaimed with giant smiles in his eyes. All the stars in the sky did a dancy twinkle-spin.

"Wow!" the kids cheered. They _were_ glad! The I-think-I'm-gonna-barf feeling climbing up their ribs, dropped back down. Still, with all that Nunzio said and what it could mean to them, they couldn't get rid of the fear snaking around inside their heads.

Nunzio looked pleased. "Enough for today," he said. You've got a lot to think about; but don't take too long," he told them. "You've got some decisions to make," he added.

"Decisions?" Lucas blurted. Sloane's eyebrows arched. Maxx's eyes shot wide.

"Yes." Nunzio calmly insisted. "What will you do with everything you just learned? The choice is yours. You don't have to do anything of course. But that's still a choice," he said thoughtfully. "On the inside, you still have everything the King gave you. It's still there. They can't take that away from you." His beak swung towards Darkotika. "Unless you decide to give it to them," he added.

The time with Nunzio was ticking down. Lucas shielded his eyes from the brightness that swept across the sky like a colossal torch. Morning Star Kingdom was radiant. For a kid with his kind of imagination it was fascinating. His heart sizzled with excitement. He had a sudden longing to go there. In that instant he was ready to ditch everything he knew to find a way.

The eagle somehow knew what he was thinking. The gold rings around his eyes were blazing. If he didn't already know him, Lucas would have been terrified.

"Yes, you'll go there some day, but not yet," Nunzio answered his thoughts. "First you need to take hold of what's already in your hands," he said.

"What do you mean?" Lucas spoke up.

Nunzio's answer was a riddle.

"It's your imagination,

you can do just what you please,

but if you'll use it wisely,

you will find it holds the keys.

For the answers to your questions,

about these kingdom lands,

you only need to look at,

what's already in your hands.

The King is only good you see,

and will never let you fall,

you only need to say yes to Him,

by answering The Call."

"By answering the call...." Lucas repeated. I've heard something about a call before. But where? He was edgy, thinking hard.

Sloane and Maxx were riveted spectators, watch-ing the exchange between Nunzio and Lucas. What was this about? Sloane was suddenly whispering, in a conversation with herself.

"You better go back now," Nunzio suggested.

"Oh no! How long have we been here?" Maxx was anxious.

"No worries. No time at all," Nunzio replied cheerfully. "We're in an eternal time warp," he said. "Time has no measure here. It's eclipsed somewhere between one second and the next. That's it!" he explained. "So you haven't missed a thing down there." His fanning wing pointed below and threw a breeze that ruffled everyone's hair.

Nunzio's reasoning about time satisfied Maxx who had mentioned earlier that he had something special to do tonight. Charles would be coming to pick him up.

Lucas looked longingly at the stars hanging like chandeliers in the glossy black sky. The skylight window looked like the door to a dungeon now compared to all this. The goings-on below in Target was still creepy-crawling. He wondered why he hadn't seen it before. Now he had to add _this_ to the list of things he was afraid of.

"Someday you might be able to see it." Nunzio answered his thoughts again. "That really depends on you."

What? What depends on me? Lucas wondered to himself.

Nunzio was quick to respond. "The more you open your mind up to the light of Morning Star Kingdom, the stronger you will grow. The light makes your spirit strong. You are wonderfully made you know! You are a spirit that lives in a body, and you have an amazing mind! Your possibilities are endless!" Nunzio's voice was singing. "If you eat the food from the King's table your spirit will grow and you will begin to see the supernatural."

Eat the King's food? That sounds great! Lucas thought. He was already wondering how he could get some.

Nunzio seemed to forget they were supposed to be leaving. "Your spirit sees things your eyes can't," he told them. The supernatural kingdoms operate in the spirit realm and that's in a different speed zone than your world is in," he said.

If the three of them weren't so anxious to learn about the workings of the kingdoms, Nunzio might not have been so ready to share the truth with them. But here they were, waiting on every word and starving for the truth.

"Do any of you know what the speed of light is?" Nunzio asked.

Of course Sloane answered right away, "The speed of light is 186,282 miles per second," she chimed.

"Good. You're a smart cookie, girl!" Nunzio applauded her.

Sloane beamed. Well, if he said so, she was impressed! Maybe she should start to really believe in herself, she thought.

"So here's something else then," Nunzio continued. "Your Middling world operates in the speed of light. When you see something, it's bound by the laws of science that function within the speed of light. That's just how it works. But now listen to this... the supernatural world that the kingdoms operate in, runs at a much faster speed."

"Here, let me show you," Nunzio said. He wanted to make sure they understood. "Have you ever seen the spokes on a car wheel spin so fast they disappear? Did they really disappear?" he asked, jumping ahead with the answer. "No, they're still there. They're just moving so fast that you can't see them anymore. The supernatural world is like that. Kingdom activity is going on all around you, all the time," he said. "But it's moving faster than the speed of light, so you can't see it. But just like the spokes in the wheel, it's still there! It's simple."

Nunzio smiled again as much as eagles can smile. "Don't be afraid Lucas," he told him. "You have nothing to be afraid of."

Lucas wasn't sure he got all that but decided he would think it through later. Sloane seemed good, so that helped.

It was time to go. They wondered if they would ever come back here again.

"I'll see you again soon," Nunzio called out. Suddenly his mammoth wings were a huge canopy above them, drafting such terrific waves that they had to brace themselves from falling over.

WARNING

Beware of the Hit-List!

14

THE DISAPPEARING ACT

THE COSMIC EXTRAVAGANZA was hard to leave. Lucas let Maxx and Sloane go on ahead. After one last look he was sliding back to his low-budget life on the inside of the window frame. If it wasn't for the sgraggy branch swishing his ear and giving him a swift smack in the head, he might not have looked back. He would have missed it. But the walloping did make him turn to steal another look and one more gulp of frosty clean air.

The fiery streak came shooting out of nowhere... like a missile! After a quick duck and a hard blink came a ker-plunk. Something hit the roof-tip. All at once it was bouncing, then speeding down, racing like a boulder on a bobsled straight towards him. His eyes popped wide.

After a slow-down skid, a smoldering hand-sized lump of glassy rock wobbled to a stop just in front of his nose. Wow! It was a chunk off a shooting star!

"Awesome! Thanks!" Lucas yelled into the ocean of space. This was a gift. Just for him. He just knew it.

It was still simmering hot. He dropped it several times trying to pick it up too fast. He blew it cool.

"What are you still doing up there?" Sloane hollered up.

Lucas finally scooped up the star-piece and slid back inside. The window bumped closed.

"Look what I have!" He cried with the rock still hot in his hand. He shimmied down, anxious to show off his prize.

When Lucas landed on the main floor Sloane was distracted. She was immersed in something she was writing. After jotting the last word, she dropped her pen and looked up from the paper she was scribbling her note on.

She and Maxx went starry-eyed when Lucas opened his hand for them. The rock was like a twinkling jewel.

Down at the base of the tree, Mrs. Warbuck was heaping the rope-strung dinner basket. The kids were rowdy today. She didn't know what had them chattering like chipmunks, but finally, the fat rope was rolling on the pulley, hoisting the basket up. Soon after, she heard Sloane squealing. She could only guess it was because she had found the pigs-in-blankets nestled in the basket. Martha Warbuck smiled and headed into the house. She had her reward.

They were all starving. Mrs. Warbuck's amazing knack for making every meal a celebration delighted them. Today they sipped iced pineapple fizz from paper cups dropped into halved coconut shells. The tree fort was well stocked with coconut shells. They were used for all kinds of things. The ones nailed onto poles against the outside railings cupped yellow wax. At dusk, they were tiki-torches.

Today they were on an exotic island, just the three of them, fresh from a mystery expedition. The gobbling and munching of the delicious dinner brought their chatter to a quiet jabbering. All seemed calm. Maybe a little too calm.

A gentle breeze ruffled the palm grass window-fringe and drifted inside to lullaby the mosquito net into a dreamy sway. While the afternoon wound down and flat-lined the three of them lazily twisted, slung in the rope strung chairs. And... they thought they were alone. Why wouldn't they?

The evening sky was melting from blue to yellow to pink. It was the time of day when goings-on stalled for a while. This time of year the daylight hours snubbed the night.

No one was looking when the intruder snuck in. Neatly tucked and comfy, he too found the mood intriguing, while it lasted.

All at once a strong wind gust gave the tree branch a hard shove; hard enough to rattle the whole fort. The tree branch shook violently and the wind whistled harshly, "Be off with you, you scoundrel!"

Suddenly a beefy black raven popped out of the tiki-torch shell he was hiding in and kicked up a fuss. He screamed furiously!

The rascal took flight! Or was he a crook? If it wasn't that the gusty wind _seemed_ to blow up out of the blue, it may have looked like the whole thing was planned. And maybe it was.

"Whoa," Sloane yelled. The kerfuffle energised everyone again.

"It's nearly time for Charles to pick me up," Maxx was getting up to leave. "I think I'll go wait out front," he said.

"Ok. Oh yeah, you have something special to do tonight?" Lucas asked.

Maxx was mysterious. "It's a surprise. I'll show you later," he said with a smirk.

"Ok," Lucas shrugged. Now he was even more curious.

While Maxx took the ladder, Lucas shimmied down with him on the rope. Sloane stayed put. Slumped in the swing chair, her feet did a slow dance on the floor while she waited for Lucas to come back.

"I wonder what he's up too?" Sloane said to Lucas when he sprawled out on the bench across from her.

But Lucas wasn't thinking about Maxx anymore. "I wish I could remember what Nunzio said," he complained.

"What do you mean?" Sloane asked. "He said lots of things. What part are you trying to remember?" she said.

"You know... the riddle," Lucas said with a deepening wrinkle in the middle of his forehead.

"Oh Lucas, I'm sorry. I forgot to tell you," Sloane was tripping over her words. "We were all so excited about your star-rock, or should we call it your _rock_ _star_ ," she giggled. "I wrote it down."

"You wrote what down?" Lucas asked.

"I wrote down the riddle," Sloane replied.

"What do you mean; you wrote it down... when?" Lucas was smiling in disbelief, trying to figure out how she could have done that.

Sloane started to tell him, with a slow-breaking smile. "Well, I knew that Nunzio was telling you something really important. I just had to remember it. I repeated it over and over to myself while we were climbing back down. I scribbled it on a piece of paper, somewhere between your _rock_ - _star_ and your mom's pigs-in-blankets," she laughed.

"I remembered the whole thing. At least I think I did." She was proud of herself and smiling big. "I did forget to give it to you though," she added with a silly grin.

"Wow Sloane, that's amazing! Thanks!" Lucas could hardly believe it. She was such an awesome friend. He didn't know what he would ever do without her.

"Where is it?" Lucas asked. "Let's have a look."

"Um...." Sloane was thinking. "Now what did I do with it? I remember moving it aside to pull up the dinner basket. Oh, yeah," she said with a sure look on her face. She jumped to a cubby by the window; it ended with a frown. She turned back to rummage through it. "I know I put it here," she pouted. "Where could it be?" With a slow twirl, she scanned the room.

"I'm _sure_ I put it here," Sloane kept on. "We can even ask Maxx. He was right here too." Now she was muttering. "There's really no use in asking him because I remember I put it here. But I guess it wouldn't hurt. Maybe he moved it," she guessed. "I doubt it, but you never know," she said.

Lucas was just itching to get his hands on that note. They both were. He was already heading for the ladder. "I'll go and call Maxx," he told Sloane without looking back.

"He might not even be home yet," Sloane called after him. A moment later the screen door slammed shut. It slammed once more and Lucas was back. By then, Sloane had rifled through everything she could think of searching for the note. "Did you talk to him?" she asked hopefully.

Lucas nodded.

"Really? He was home already?" Sloane was relieved.

"Yeah, he just got in," Lucas replied. "He said he didn't know. He saw you writing something, but he wasn't paying attention. He thought the basket looked cool coming up the pulley rope. He said he was busy watching that."

Sloane moaned.

"Do you think you can still remember it?" Lucas asked. "Maybe you can write it again," he urged.

Sloane's face was skewed, "Oh, I don't know. I could try," she said wistfully. She wasn't settled down enough to concentrate yet. Where could it have gone? She wondered to herself again. Her eyes zig-zagged through the room. "Things just can't dis-appear out of thin air, can they?" she asked.

The sequence of events was surprising. At least it would have been if anyone else besides Felix had noticed. And no, things _usually_ don't just disappear out of thin air; but then it depends what you mean by, out of thin air.

Until he heard the screen door's racket, Felix was jelly-rolled on a kitchen chair where Mrs. Warbuck was stacking hot-dog pieces into pyramids, and dodging flour puffs from stretching out her pastry dough. The erratic rhythm of the knife thumping the cutting board lulled him in and out of his siesta. Jibber-jabbering drifted out of the open windows of the fort. Occasionally, the screens were allowing snippets of it into the kitchen.

Curiosity was getting to him. After a lion-sized yawn and a Pilates-stretch he was ready to prowl. It took some fancy frolicking to catch Mrs. Warbuck's attention, but his antics finally wore her down and she opened up the screen door for him.

If Felix wanted to avoid the drama of a rush of kisses from Sloane, and he did, his best tactic would be to camouflage with the scenery. After slinking off the porch he tiptoed along the rock garden, stopping short to strike a statue pose. The only thing moving were the clouds gliding through the sky. All seemed well. He coiled, then sprung with ease onto one of the sturdy fence posts that corralled the back yard.

His cover was blown. The black birds next door must have noticed. A moment ago they were calm and dozing, but now, mad squabbling broke out. Just to prove they couldn't ruffle him, Felix made a spectacle of selecting just the right spot to lounge on the fence rail. It was a good excuse anyway to rest-up for his usual routine. It was right around here that he noticed something _most_ _peculiar_.

Felix's balancing talents could rival any circus tightrope walker. Today it was perfect. The sun burned a spotlight on the back of his head. He would show-off a perilous stroll across the tiny top of the fence line. Like other days, the crowd of ravens assembled on the roof of the Voyance house was his audience, even if they were a hostile bunch.

After only three steps, he stopped short. It was part of the act. An attention grabber. A furious licking of his hind leg followed. He was sure this stunt alone was worth a rowdy applause.

Suddenly, without warning, a tumultuous wind ripped through the yard in a tantrum! It nearly blew his fur coat off! It was so wild that even the flea family that had only just taken up residence took flight, nest and all! Felix found himself scratching in a frenzy to anchor his nails into the wood rail. With wild eyes, he happened to look up... just in time.

Just in time to see a black-as-tar raven flapping freakishly around the tree fort. And how weird is this? Could it be a fluke? At first glance, it seemed that a delicate white flower was fluttering out of the tree fort window, sailing up like a kite, flipping and twirling up, up, up, until it was floating, suspended, straight in the bird's flight path.

And wouldn't you know it! That old raven was ready with his beak opened up like a trap door. Snap! The bird floated past like a hero, with what turned out to be a scrappy piece of paper, hanging out of his mouth.

Felix's head yo-yoed trailing it. If it wasn't for what happened next, this would have already been strange enough.Almost as if it was normal, the winds feisty charade suddenly stopped. The flowers bowing side-ways under the fence bounced back up, straight as nails again. Except for the raven flying like a lone ranger on what looked like a fixed flight path, everything was dead still, for the moment.

The raven flapped hard, then he was smooth-soaring. His eyes were locked on his target zone, a spot on the roof's edge above an upstairs window. His twiggy legs stretched forward. His landing gear was out.

Felix's eyes were stalking the bird. He was much too high for a pounce. What happened next scared his lion-heart, just a little. Now his eyes were pinwheeling. It was too perfect. Like the whole thing was rehearsed. Even the window shutters shuttered!

The raven's beak dropped open and Felix's mouth did too. With the hijacking over, the paper broke into a free-falling dance. It twirled down, down, down, as straight as an arrow, right for the mark. Then, with a flash, a skinny arm swung out of the window like a mechanical lever. As stiff as a hockey stick, it snatched the drooping paper, tumbling like a dead flower, right out of thin air!

The black birds went wild! What an applause! At first Felix was ready to believe it was all for him. But after what he just saw, he wasn't so sure. His gaze zoomed to the window. He blinked wide. He froze. In a freakish brain-freeze, his eyes locked onto another's. It was Clair Voyance!

She was watching him, watching her. His coppery fur glowed like a bonfire in the sun. He had seen the whole thing. She would add him to her hit list. A moment later the curtains shifted still and she was gone.

WARNING

No Throwing Toast Crusts!

15

CHAIN REACTION

"ALFRED," MARTHA WARBUCK'S voice arced high. Would you drop this bag off at the Salvation Army drop-box for me?" she asked. She was rushing like a linebacker, pushing a stuffed green garbage bag towards him.

Instead of haggling with her over the extra time it would take, Alfred Warbuck just grabbed the bag and tossed it into the trunk of the car. A moment later he was turned around, backing out of the garage. He was heading out to play golf. That was his plan anyway.

It was mid-morning on the kind of day that was like a page from a storybook. The clouds looked like cotton balls tossed in the sky. Sloane had just banged on the back door for Lucas to come out. They were going to do-some-stuff today.

The screen door slammed and Lucas plopped down beside Sloane. With their legs dangling carefree over the porch edge, they ripped off bites of the banana-chocolate-chip muffins he had snagged off the cooling rack in the kitchen.

He squinted to check out Lenny's place. There was no one in sight. The sound of squabbling ravens using the Voyance house as an air force base was balanced out by the radio serenade of twangy country music drifting through the kitchen window.

A pickup truck had arrived early over at the neighbour's house. The two workmen, one with a dishwater-blond plastic-bowl haircut, the other with a waxed head and a bushman beard, had come to finish up house repairs. They'd already dragged on for a week. The rattling and jangling of their tools bouncing on the jalopy they rumbled in on today woke everyone up, just like other mornings. Except for grunting at one another from time to time, they didn't talk.

Sloane turned up her nose at the wisp of cigarette smoke wafting down off the roof next door. She fanned her face then turned to Lucas, "How's your sister, did she get home all right?" she asked him. "How did she like her first year of college?"

"I didn't get a chance to see her yet," Lucas replied. "She got in really late last night and she's still sleeping," he said.

"Oh. Well it's nice she's home again," Sloane replied.

"Oh, I love this song!" The music sifting through the window screen had Sloane instantly swaying, singing like a country star. She belted out a few lines and then shot Lucas a brassy glamour look when she stopped. It was impossible for him to look away.

Sloane dropped the act. "Hey, did your uncle ever come by to visit yet?" She asked.

"Oh, you mean Uncle Henry?" Lucas replied. "Yeah, he was here."

"Does he still have those crazy sideburns?" Sloane asked with a smile.

"Oh yeah, he still has them all right, and they're even bigger than the last time."

"Wow! Sloane laughed, and Lucas did too.

"Are you still scared of him?" Sloane wondered, her lips curled, hinting of a smile.

"Naw," Lucas said, looking away. "Not so much anymore, well... I'm still a bit nervous around him," he admitted. "He's such a big man. He always seems like a giant or something. I don't know."

Sloane was thinking, "Huh, I wonder," she said. "My dad was telling me and my mom about this guy who sees things, and knows things about the spirit world... things most people don't. This guy goes to Africa too. My dad called him something. I'm trying to remember. Oh, yeah, a prophet. It reminded me of your uncle Henry. Weird huh?"

"What do you mean he can see things and know things that we don't?" Lucas asked her.

"My dad says he always talks about kingdoms... I didn't know what he was talking about. But now I'm wondering if he knows about Morning Star Kingdom and Darkotika. My dad said he was warning about things that are going to happen on the earth; he said the name Mezziah too. Nunzio mentioned Mezziah... I dunno."

They both had a lot to wonder about. By the time Lucas spoke again, each of them had already launched themselves far away... back to star-streams jetting across an ink-bowl sky... Nunzio's world. Or was it their world too? It seemed that the world, however you see it, is way bigger than it looks.

Finally, Lucas said, "He left me a book."

"Oh really?" Sloane looked like she had just been offered something delicious. "What's it about?"

"I don't know, I didn't read it," Lucas answered matter-of-factly.

"You didn't read it? Well why not?" Sloane's eyebrows bolted up. She was used to whipping through a new book in a day or two, a week tops. "What kind of book is it? Did you at least open the cover and pick through it?" she asked, with a lot more questions popping into her head. She didn't know much about Uncle Henry, but she had always been fascinated by the stories Lucas told about him.

"No. It looks boring. It's just an old book and I haven't really looked at it yet," Lucas was stumbling.

"Well can I see it sometime?" Sloane asked, pushing past his dippy attitude.

The wishy-washy way Lucas said, "Yeah, I'll show it to you," had her thinking she might never see it.

"Can you go and get it now?" She persisted, trying hard not to sound as pushy as she wanted to be.

"Well, I guess so," Lucas answered slowly, as if he was still trying to decide. "Ok, I'll go grab it. I'll be right back."

The screen door did its usual slow-slam and he was gone.

"Hello Sloane," Alfred Warbuck called from the driveway. He was using his professional, News Journalist voice, the one that matched his nicely pressed trousers and starchy crisp shirt and always managed to morph him out of his paunchy, couch-potato look. He was loading golf clubs and a puffed-up garbage bag into the trunk of the car. To Sloane, he was always nothing but nice. She gave him a polite, queen's wave and smile, and then went back to nibbling chocolate chips out of her muffin.

The scaffolding against the neighbour's house was built like the Eifel Tower. Mr. Warbuck remembered the neighbour, Jerry, telling him they were getting some work done. The rocks from the stone chimney had cracked loose and needed re-cementing. As much as he hated the idea, he was glad to hear that it was being taken care of. He'd been watching it too and was worried an avalanche would turn his driveway into a mountain range.

He scowled at the island of roof shingles stacked on the grass near the corner of the house. By the end of the day, hopefully it would all be gone. He could hardly wait to see this crew finish up. It was such a commotion. It made him tense. He took a deep breath. Only a few more hours and it will be all tidied up again, he told himself.

With Alfred Warbuck's stomach already tied in knots, it was a good thing that he didn't know that the grand finale had not yet played out, and that he would be right in the middle of it. If he liked things _planned_... well then depending on how you look at it, what happened next might qualify for more than "chance." It couldn't have been more perfect even if it was planned. So, maybe it was.

Mrs. Warbuck had just thrown toast crusts out onto the back lawn for the birds. Sloane watched them fling like wood-chips overhead and bounce on the grass. It was remarkable how it never did take the birds long to find them, but the hunt was always on. Instantly a gang of blackbirds anxiously eyed the brunch buffet. One parachuted down and in a feisty move, snatched a piece. He fluttered up to the perfect spot, the garage roof, to defend his meal.

About the same time, a squirrel with a big, honey-colored nut tucked into his cheek-pouch, decided to use a tree branch as a landing strip to reach the garage. For a moment, he disappeared into the bushy end of the branch. It shook like a pom-pom. Suddenly the squirrel was an acrobat flying through the air. He landed with a soft-thump on the garage roof.

Abruptly, the bird and the squirrel, stupid-happy with their treats, scared each other silly! The squirrel flung his nut. The bird dropped his bread. The two went crazy, wildly scolding one another.

The hullabaloo set off a chain reaction. Just like a ball in a pinball machine, the nut rolled down the slant of the roof and headed straight for the eaves trough. It clunked all the way down, bounced out the bottom, and zoomed across the driveway.

Felix, who just happened to be treating himself to a beach day, was sunning himself on the back porch. He spotted it instantly, flipped to his feet, ready to pounce. His paws slapped the driveway pavement, just as the nut jumped off the driveway heading for the grass. Felix swatted it out of the air, trapping it under his heavy paw.

Just then, the neighbour's bull dog Barney rounded the fence to sniff out the house renovations. Surprise! Barney's bloodshot eyes, looking a lot like roadmaps, were locked onto Felix. He was sure this was a threat to move in on his turf. They stalked one another. The only thing wedging them apart was a shrinking patch of lawn.

Felix pressed himself low and hummed a warning growl. His closest escape was the towering scaffold. Suddenly his hind legs were springs. He crouched, and boing, his super-hero leap landed him five feet up. Barney was left in the dust.

With his fur electric, he scrambled like a rock climber the rest of the way to the top, popping up at the peak, just in time.

Just in time? Just in time to surprise the bushy-faced workman hoisting a hefty boulder into place on the side of the chimney.

Felix hadn't expected to find a man on the rooftop dressed like a ghost, all in white, powdered with cement dust. Why would he? And the man hadn't expected to find a cat snaking up the side of the house either. Why would he? They scared the daylights out of each other! Felix wanted out of there fast! He didn't have to wait long.

The startled cement mason threw the big rock down and it thumped hard. Whack! It struck the end of a scaffold board balancing a bucket of soupy cement.

The other guy, with the salad-bowl hair-cut, was shouldering a load of shingles across the roof. The booming boulder sounded like a bomb just hit. All of a sudden, the air was like a circus act. Stuff was flying everywhere! The roofer was spooked. Recklessly flailing back, his foot kicked a box of nails. The box took off. It slid down the slope of the roof like a world-class bobsled until it reached the eaves trough, then it flipped.

Nails stormed to the ground targeting Mr. Warbuck's car, just when it was sneaking out of the garage. They lassoed the car and tinkled to a stop in a scattered mess behind the wheels.

Felix's speed was bolstered by the commotion. He jumped like a jackrabbit and nearly tore the scaffolding down with him when he raced back to the finish line, a grassy strip on the ground. His escape was so fast he landed even before the wood plank, bouncing like an Olympic diving board, sprung the five gallon bucket of cement. Up-and-over it went. The first pail grabbed a second pail of concrete-slop on the way, and the two torpedoed towards the Warbuck's driveway.

Alfred Warbuck heard the nail-storm but didn't see a thing. At least not until Felix flew across his windshield in a mad dash for the house. Before he could prop his chin back into place again, the concrete slosh crashed like a wave and washed his car. Scared witless, he hit the brakes! The next thing he knew, a hissing sound at the back of his car turned into a snort. His tires were flattening. The car bumped down with a jerk!

"Good golly!" Mr. Warbuck hollered.

A door-slam rattled the house. After looking everywhere, and not finding the book, Lucas hurried down from his room. "Where's dad?" he asked, whizzing into the kitchen where his mom was tidying up. If his dad was leaving, he wanted to catch him first. He and Sloane wanted to go for a bike ride later and he needed his dad to look at a leak in his bicycle tire.

"He's gone golfing with Fred," his mom answered.

"Oh," he frowned. I wanted him to help me with my bike tire," he said.

"Well, he'll be back around three," his mother replied.

"Ok," Lucas sighed. "Hey mom, do you know where that book is... you know the one Uncle Henry gave me?"

"Yes," his mother answered. "I put it into the goodwill bag to give away to the Salvation Army. The clutter in this house is out-of-hand. I just did a quick clean through and gathered up some things we don't need. You said you thought that book was boring. I didn't think you cared about it Lucas."

"Oh no!" Lucas cried. "You gave it away?"

"I'm sorry Lucas. I didn't think you would ever read it," Mrs. Warbuck replied, surprised at his reaction.

"Why didn't you tell me... or ask me?" Lucas whined. "When did you give it away?" He was upset, but he knew she had guessed right. He wasn't interested in it... until now.

"Well, it only just went out the door a few minutes ago. I just gave the bag to your dad to drop off at the Salvation Army on his way to play golf. He just left. You just missed him," she said. "I really am sorry."

"Can we ask the Salvation Army to give it back?" Lucas asked, his voice desperate.

"Well... I don't know Lucas." Mrs. Warbuck answered slow. She couldn't understand what the big deal was with this book now. It had been laying around getting dusty for weeks.

Lucas drooped his head extra low to make sure his mom knew how unhappy he was. He gave the backdoor a little punch on the way out to punish it too. He was ready to complain to Sloane. He looked around. She wasn't there.

"I'm up here," Sloane called to him. She had a giggly look on her face. She was hiding in the tree fort so Mr. Warbuck wouldn't see her laughing her head off. With eyes glistening, she was still doubled over holding her stomach when Lucas found her.

"Oh, my-gosh Lucas." She was trying to catch her breath. "You just missed it!" Sloane's voice squealed a few notches higher than usual.

She was so wound up he couldn't think. "Huh?" he shrugged. "Missed what? What's so funny?" he asked.

"Lucas, it was crazy! Look!" She was pointing down at the driveway, trying to pull herself together. Even though she was losing-it, she felt really bad too. The Warbuck's car took a terrible spanking.

"Whutt!" Lucas shouted, looking at the disaster in shock. Sloane jumped right in with her version of the whole thing, down to the tiniest detail. There were parts that made her burst out laughing all over again, and others that had her clasping her hand over her mouth. Lucas couldn't help but laugh too.

By now the workmen were standing awkwardly in the front yard, pointing at the various things that had roller-coastered down the side of the house, turning the Warbuck's driveway into what looked like, the city dump.

Alfred Warbuck had already hustled into the house to make some calls. For sure, he would need to find two new tires. If he would have been thinking clearly, the first thing he would have done, is taken the time to hose off his car. Cement clumps, looking like sandcastles on the beach, were already starting to dry and set.

He didn't mean to be, but Lucas was almost too happy about the fiasco. Now he could get his book. The pasty, white-wash dribbling off the car was nearly invisible to him when he saw the keys dangling in the ignition. He snapped them up and opened the trunk.

Lucas was eager to tear into the bulging green bag. It looked like a big olive with his red toque, the pimento, popping out of the top. He yanked his hat and tossed it at the house, wobbling to keep his balance on the scattered nails that felt like marbles under his feet. Digging through the bag was a lot like searching for the prize in a cereal box and he was pretty good at that.

"Here it is," he shouted. "I found the book."Sloane kicked some nails aside and huddled up to his shoulder while he fanned the pages.

"Oh," Sloane jumped. "There's the note that Uncle Henry wrote for you," she said with a whispered hint of mystery in her voice. She tugged a scrap of paper out from under the front cover and flipped it over so they could read it together.

Dear Lucas, The King of Morning Star Kingdom asked me to give you this Book of Knowledge and Wisdom.... It holds the answers to all the issues of life. The King is calling your name Lucas. The Keys to the Kingdom are yours if you will answer - - The Call.

How? Turn away from Darkotika and follow the Light. But Beware! They'll be coming for you. Don't be afraid. The darkness is only a shadow... it's all a lie. Step into the Light! You are destined to reign! Upon your reading this, "The Call" shall be considered official, and registered in Morning Star Kingdom. Lucas Warbuck: You Are Hereby Summoned by the King.

"What!" Lucas erupted with a choked voice. He fought off the tears glazing his eyes, not even knowing what he was feeling. He was blown away. A tingle of electricity tapped through his nerves. Sloane felt it too. They were both trying to come out of the brain-freeze they were in to figure out what this all meant.

"This is awesome!" Sloane announced, as if she'd just solved a mystery. "Uncle Henry must be the prophet my dad was talking about," her voice changed to a raspy whisper. "It's got to be him Lucas... your Uncle Henry is a prophet... and he knows the King of Morning Star Kingdom. Incredible!" She burst out. "When's he coming back again, I want to meet him!" She didn't let him answer. "Lucas don't lose this book," Sloane commanded. "I have the feeling you'll be needing it... or should I say, _we_ will be needing it."

"Nunzio was talking about this," Lucas seemed to agree. "Now I can see it!" He was excited. "The world we can't see is just as real as this one!" he cried.

"Telephone Lucas," Mrs. Warbuck cut in. She was hanging out the front door, calling, with an urgent look on her face.

WARNING

Sometimes You Can't Go Back!

16

BETWEEN SPLIT SECONDS

THE GOLDEN STREAKS in the boy's hair glistened under the lights like they were dipped in fairy dust. He wilted like a week-old cut flower under Wizard Caldron's burning eyes. Without moving a smidge, he tried to see past the glaring light dome over his chair that had him trapped like a bug under a glass. He wondered what the rest of the room held in store. The brightness was like a shield. He couldn't see past it.

"We 'ave 'im ma' lord." The barrel-bellied low-ranking warlock addressed his superior with respect. He was trembling. He should have been afraid, very afraid... and he was. Fear was normal here. There was no mercy. Not ever. No one even thought of being kind, forgiving, or understanding. You never could tell what the next moment would bring.

The boy was panting hard. His breath was like a slow, labouring engine. Chief wizard Caldron paced circles around him, plucked the glasses off his face and studied him like a map.

"Where'd you find him?" Caldron's eyebrows warped in a slow suspicious arch. His voice, usually low and gritty, rose too. He was asking a question that clearly, he already knew the answer to.

"...'e was..." the young warlock stumbled, "...'e was in the movie theatre... ma' lord." His words tip-toed a polite, careful answer.

"Oh, really...." Caldron answered, acting calm. "Is that so...?" he said in a silky voice. There was a long silence before he exploded, "It's not him!"

Somehow in this madness, the boy was slightly relieved.

The warlock's legs nearly dropped off. His eyes flipped like pages, showing their whites. He tried to think of something sensible to say. He couldn't. "Well... um... I wasn't sure," he tried. "The other one... well, err... 'e wouldn't come." It was all he could come up with.

"You mean, you weren't wicked enough to convince him," Caldron sneered.

"But, I didn't have the permission I needed to take 'im."

"Same difference!" Caldron steamed.

"Well, this one was willing to come." The junior warlock was whining now.

There was a sudden flash. The boy jumped! It was a powerful laser scan that stunned him. It left him dazed.

He was lying back on an elevated chair, the kind that can be raised up and down. He wasn't strapped in. There was no need to be. There was nowhere to run. He was too scared to move anyway. He didn't even know where he was or why he was here.

The place was a labyrinth of tangled hallways and tunnels. The room felt like a cave on a planet no one knew about. Except for the one above the chair, other lights placed randomly around were stingy with their light and beamed dim like glow-sticks.

Like giant eyes, black-faced darkotatron screens edged the area. Suddenly, there was an abrupt energy buzz and a purplish neon glow covered everything. It was a carnival, fun-house kind of glimmer that distorted things. It gave a haunting-effect to technical equipment and other scary apparatus hiding in the shadows. A startling image blinked into focus onto one of the massive screens. It throbbed and thumped with life. It was a magnified picture of the boy's pumping heart.

Caldron studied the screen. "What's your name boy," he demanded.

With tears dripping, the boy bit his lip and sputtered, "I'm Frankie Luredin."

"Yesss...," Wizard Caldron was back to playing nice again. "And where were you a moment ago... where'd they pick you up?"

"I was at the movies, sir... at the Target movie theatre at the Target Town Center sir," the boy answered. His teeth were chattering.

"Oh yeah? Hmmm... and what movie were they playing?" His voice peaked. He was still play-acting. The boy, Frankie, eked out the name of the movie.

"Of course it's not him. You fool!" Caldron raged at the shrinking warlock. He was back to his beasty, dagger-shooting ways. "We had our own people in-on producing that film. You idiot! The film writers got their ideas straight from Darkotika. The boy we're after would never go to a movie like that!"

"Well, next time," Caldron fumed, leaning snidely towards the warlock, "you'll try harder, won't you! You incompetent fool!" he hissed.

"Guards! Take him to the dungeon! Lock him up. We'll give him time to perfect up his persuasion techniques. Lots of it.... Set the timer for 366 years. That'll give him plenty of time to rehearse his schemes."

"No! Please! Let me go!" the cowering warlock cried. "I'll try harder... let me try again!" he begged. Soon, his shrill, jabbing shrieks, faded to silence.

"Humff... We should have known better than to send a warlock to do a warrior's job. We need more warriors! They've been dying off like flies!" Caldron howled. As he circled the room in a dither, twisting the tails of his mustache, the mish-mash of shadows swallowed him up.

Suddenly, something bumped Frankie's arm. His nerves shot spears through his body. Popcorn sprinkled off his hand and heaped in a hill on his lap.

"Oops. Sorry Frankie." Jenny Wilding leaned to whisper in his ear. "Here, wanna finish my drink?" she whispered again, pushing her soda cup at him. "Hey, are you OK?"

Frankie was ghost-white and ready to puke. Did that really just happen? He asked himself. He was in the movie theatre and panting like a dog. No, he wasn't OK. Not at all.

At the Warbuck house on Covert Street, Lucas was back with Sloane again after leaving to go answer the phone. He'd been nervous something was wrong when his mother had called him in with such a worried look on her face. It turned out she was only upset about the disaster on the driveway.

Lucas hadn't been gone long. Sloane was still standing by the car trunk, fascinated by the book.

"Maxx called, he's coming over," Lucas announced. "Charles will be dropping him off soon. He has something he wants to show us," he said.

"Oh," Sloane's face lit up, "must be his surprise," she mused.

They strolled to the back yard, each propped on the other, neither taking their eyes off the open book. The flipping pages had an odd effect. Their Middling world was fading. It was hard to care about here, when all they wanted was to find out more about _there_.

Only a blink later and they were hanging over the balcony of the fort watching the Bentley glide up to the curb. Maxx jumped out and reached back inside the car to fidget with something.

"Hey, what's he got?" Sloane asked, with her voice full of mystery. The two of them scrambled to find out and swung down the rope ladder like trapeze artists.

Maxx met them wearing a clean, breezy, button front shirt and pressed jeans. Normal for him, not-so-much for any other guy his age. A spaghetti-strappy leash wound over his shoulder and dangled to his waist. Maxx's eyes were bright. The three of them traded smiles.

"Hi guys... meet Slim," Maxx said proudly.

"Whoa!" Sloane squealed, then popping a hand over her mouth, "Oh, I don't want to scare him," she whispered.

"Cool! "Lucas exclaimed with a smile that wouldn't quit.

It was almost unbelievable... they had never seen one before. Hanging on the edge of Maxx's shoulder, a small mossy green iguana blinked tiny glassy eyes at them. He was twitchy and shy.

"Oh, he's so cute!" Sloane squealed, delicately this time.

Maxx was beaming. "Yeah, he's really nervous right now," he said. "He needs time to get used to us. I need to work with him to tame him or he could be big trouble later," he laughed. "Iguana's are wild, so you need to make sure you spend the time to train them carefully if you're going to keep them as a pet," Maxx explained. "My mom did a lot of research before we got him."

Maxx's surprise was incredible. It was Saturday. Maxx was going to be there for three hours, maybe four. The three of them slung themselves into the rope chairs and drifted around inside the mosquito net cloud. It was impossible for anyone to take their eyes off Slim.

Sloane was extra bubbly and chatty. It would be anyone's guess if Slim was amused by Sloane's bouncy conversation or frazzled. On a whim, she had thrown on some earrings today. Slim was carefully watching them bobble as she talked.

"He is so adorable!" Sloane said again out of the blue, infatuated with Slim.

Maxx loved it. "My mom's got a whole wardrobe planned for him," he smirked.

Today he was voguish in a teensy-weensy cobalt blue harness splashed with rhinestones. His leash matched.

Sloane's mile-a-minute chatter was about every-thing under the sun. The boys jumped in now and then.

"Hey Lucas, didn't Frankie ask you to go to the movies today?" Sloane asked.

"Oh, yeah," Lucas answered dully, "Naw, I didn't like the movie he was going to, I didn't want to go," he said.

They were all distracted by Slim. "Do you think he'll let me hold him?" Sloane asked Maxx, then quickly changed her mind. "Ah, maybe I should wait a while," she said. "He's not used to everything yet. I don't want to stress him out any more than he already is." Maxx agreed.

"Yikes, I forgot to tell you," Sloane was big-eyed. Lucas was sure she was starting into another babble-fest. But instead, what she had to say surprised him.

"Guess who I saw in Principal Lemon's office yesterday?" her voice was full of mystery. She kept them waiting, twisting the tiniest of tidbits into the story before spilling out, "Clair Voyance!"

"Really?" Lucas said with a confused, thinking-hard, kind of look on his face. "I wonder what she was doing there? She could have been called in about Lenny," he guessed.

"Yeah," Maxx agreed. "He's always down there for something."

"Maybe," Sloane said, doubtful. "But she's never come in about anything before. I guess that could be it," she added slowly. "It was weird," she went on, "I have the feeling it was something else. I was down there to photo-copy something for Miss Goodwin. I couldn't hear what they were talking about because the door was closed, but it seemed like a business meeting or something." She swept her hair up into a five-second pony-tail, let it fall again, and gave her chair a swing. "I don't know what to think," she said. "I just have a bad feeling about it, that's all."

"Miss Goodwin's had a lot of days off lately hasn't she." Maxx commented.

"Yeah," Sloane replied. "She's been sick way more than she used to be."

"Squawk!" Radger cheered. He was clamped to the railing, listening-in. "Spelling-bee. Spelling-bee!" he screeched.

They all looked at one another. Slim was spazzing-out and fidgety. Maxx gently cupped his hand around him to settle him. "Did he say _spelling_ - _bee_?" Maxx asked with a laugh, nodding at the raven.

"Well, it's kind of extreme to think he _said_ anything, but it sure sounded like it," Sloane answered with a smirk.

They were acting like Radger had just told them a joke. But it wasn't a joke. Nothing from Darkotika was. Someday, maybe they'd understand. Everything Darkotika did was a trick.

Lucas was lost in thought watching his friends. Sloane was cracking up over something Maxx just said. He wasn't worried about Sloane anymore. The more he got to know Maxx, the more he liked him. Now it was hard to imagine him not being there. It was weird. Sometimes you just never know. Sometimes you have to take a chance and get to know people; let them show you who they really are.

Obviously nothing had changed, yet, everything had. The normalness of the Middling-world was peeling off like an onion skin. You could put it this way: Mindless, Middling ways were quick to vacuum up hopes and dreams, and _truths_ , like worthless dust bunnies. For Lucas, the drone from that vacuum was getting a little too noisy. He was starting to see. _Really_ see.

A gallery of pictures reeled through his mind. The universe dangling like a crystal chandelier, the talking eagle with his yellow-jeweled beak, the dazzling Morning Star Kingdom, and the eerie death-glow of Darkotika. The last image made him shiver; the fantasia of imposters roaming the streets of Target.

After seeing all of this, after the note in the book... _how_ _could_ anyone ever be the same? He wondered about Sloane and Maxx. Could they just go on like nothing happened? Something did happen... at least it did for him. An invisible steely rod tightened through his core. He was stronger. He knew it.

Nunzio was right. There were decisions to be made. It would mean taking a risk. Believing the impossible, and _expecting_ it to happen. It meant scrapping the Middling, "it's-just-meant-to-be" attitude, or laying-low hoping like crazy everything would just, some-how work out. It would mean taking charge of every day like it's a gift, waiting to be opened.

It was strange, but not scary. The shadows of darkness were closing in. Uncle Henry was right. Shadows are only shadows. They can't hurt you. They can scare you... but only if you let them. Can the shadow of a shark, bite? Nope. Besides, beyond every shadow is a light... and Lucas was starting to see it. The best part was he was looking for it now. It was the lustrous, radiant light of Morning Star Kingdom.

Who could have ever known, that somewhere, between split-seconds, his life would change. As far as he was concerned, it was no big deal. He had only decided not to be soothed, hushed... scared... into staying a Middling. He had just said _yes_. That's all... he answered the call.

"I'm going for it you guys," Lucas announced, barging in on Sloane and Maxx's quiet talk. They both turned with a quizzical look. Slim was like a statue on Maxx's shoulder. Sloane's rope chair stopped squeaking.

"Something's going on. I just can't pretend it's not happening, especially after what Nunzio told us," Lucas said. The pulse in his neck was throbbing. Sloane and Maxx nodded, wide-eyed. "While we were up there," Lucas pointed to the ceiling, "I saw some weird stuff going on down here," he said. "I can't get it out of my head."

"I know what Nunzio said about Darkotika," Sloane said slowly, "But it _seems_ so... well, quiet... you know, peaceful here in Target."

"Yeah, but that's just it," Lucas said. "Things aren't really like they seem. It's part of the game. We're being strung along."

It suddenly dawned on Sloane that she had never seen Lucas like this before. She could write lists of things he was scared of. Now, even the curve of his nose was like a steel bow, and sparks of determination shone in his eyes.

His words were gritty and calm. "You can come with me... but even if you don't, I'm still going," he said.

No one knew what that meant, not even Lucas. And they couldn't have guessed that the tiny flame of resolve, flaring in his heart, would one day be a bonfire.

The spark didn't go unnoticed way down below the earth's fringe either. The gates of Darkotika boomed and rattled on their hinges! Thunder rippled between curtains of blackness.

"We just lost him...." Wizard Caldron howled hideously, clawing his face then clutching his ears. "He said _yesss_. We lost him!" he shrieked. His knees crumpled under him and he stooped to the ground.

"Whoa!" Sloane shouted, jumping up. "That thunder sounds close. Maybe we should go inside," she said.

"I didn't hear anything," Lucas answered, with a daring look, coolly molded to his face.

A split-millisecond away, a trumpet fanfare in Morning Star Kingdom burst into a joyful triumphant tune!

Maybe it was just the sun leaking in, maybe it was something else. A dusty haze riding into the room on gloomy, late-afternoon shadows was suddenly canceled. Prisms of shimmering light were dancing off the walls.

"Look!" Lucas spun his swing chair. "It's like we're in another world!" he shouted. And maybe they were.

### ABOUT THE AUTHOR

ARIEL ROMA is a Canadian fantasy-adventure novelist who wrote, Lucas Warbuck: The Prophet's Call, and continues to write Lucas Warbuck novels. Living on Canada's west coast, as a full time author, Ariel enters daily into the worlds of Lucas Warbuck and his friends. Book two of this series is due out in 2014.

