Fangs for Having Us!

by Nancy Krulik

That’s it!

  “We need to go back to the café,” I tell my classmates. “I need ingredients.”

  “This is no time to cook,” Oliver tells me.

  “I’m only cooking up a plan,” I assure him.

  “We can’t go outside,” Tony insists. “It’s dark and scary.”

  “We have to do something,” Emma tells him. “Sofia’s the only one of us with an idea. Unless you have a plan?”

  Tony scrunches his lips. He scratches his hair. And tilts his head. “I got nothing,” he admits.

  “That settles it!” I fling open the heavy wooden door and run out into the Transylvanian night. “Come on.”

  * * *

  “We ran down that mountain for ketchup?” Olivia asks breathlessly as we arrive at the outdoor café.

  The restaurant is closed now. The square is empty. It’s late. Most people have gone home. Being at an empty, dark outdoor café in the middle of Transylvania, with Bran Castle looking down at us, is really spooky. But I can’t think about that now. There’s no time to be scared.

  “Ms. Frogbottom never put this bottle back into her pack,” I tell Olivia. “I’m just glad the waiter left it on the table.”

  “I’m sweating from my hair to my socks,” Aiden complains. “This better be good, Sofia.”

  “It will be good,” Emma assures him.

  She doesn’t add that it will be good because I’m the class brain. Emma isn’t saying anything mean to me now. Maybe because she was the first one to realize that Mr. Liliac really was a vampire, so she feels pretty smart too.

  “Why do we need ketchup?” Oliver asks.

  “I’m going to rub it on my neck,” I explain. “It’ll look like blood. I’m hoping that when Mr. Liliac sees it, he’s going to want to come for that blood. And while he’s focused on me, you guys can rescue Ms. Frogbottom.”

  “But if he bites your neck, he’ll turn you into a vampire,” Tony points out.

  “He’s not going to get close to me,” I reply.

  “Why not?” Oliver asks me.

  “I’m going to mix garlic with the ketchup. When he smells that, he’ll want to make a quick escape.”

  “By turning into a bat,” Emma adds. “He’ll just fly off and leave us alone.”

  “That’s the plan,” I say.

  “It won’t work,” Olivia insists.

  “Why not?” I ask her.

  “They don’t cook with garlic here, remember?” she replies.

  Of course I remember. I remember everything. But I don’t say that. Instead I say, “There’s another place I can get it. Tony, give me your necklace.”

  “No way,” Tony says. “Garlic’s the only reason I’m not getting mosquito bites.”

  He looks at us.

  We look back at him.

  Finally he unties the leather cord and hands me the pouch.

  I take out the clove of garlic and peel it open. Then… BAM. I use my fist to smash the garlic into little pieces. I pour some ketchup onto one of the paper napkins on the table and mix it with the smashed garlic.

  Boy, does that stink.

  As I rub the ketchup-garlic mush onto my neck, I have the strangest feeling someone is watching us.

  I hear a rustling in the nearby trees. It’s pretty dark, so I can’t say for sure that I see anyone sitting in the branches, but I could swear there are two eyes staring at us: one blue and one green.

  “Do you guys see someone in that tree?” I ask.

  Everyone looks up. But whoever was there has disappeared.

  Maybe it was my imagination. Or not.

  “Let’s get out of here,” I say. “Mr. Liliac will be happy making Ms. Frogbottom dance the funky chicken for only so long. He’s going to get hungry for blood soon.”

  * * *

  ARRROOOOOOO! As we pass a thicket of pine trees, we hear howling… again.

  A shiver runs up my spine. I was wrong about vampires not being real. I might have been wrong about capcauns, too. Maybe there really are four-eyed dog-ogres roaming Transylvania looking for kids to eat.

  ARRROOOOOOO!

  A really horrible stink fills the air.

  I stare into the trees. Four big, dark eyes stare back at me.

  “CAPCAUN! RUN!” Aiden shouts.

  “We can’t outrun a capcaun,” I argue. “He’s part dog. You know how fast dogs can run.”

  “We’re doomed!” Tony cries.

  “So is Ms. Frogbottom,” Emma adds sadly.

  “Not necessarily,” I insist. “We can’t outrun him, but maybe we can outsmart him.”

  Tony shakes his head. “Capcauns are smart. Mr. Sange said they trick kids into becoming their dinner.”

  “I bet capcauns aren’t smarter than Sofia.” Emma smiles at me. “What’s your plan?”

  I don’t actually have one. But I’d better think of something quickly. I can hear that capcaun breathing hungrily. And I’m pretty sure we’re what he’s hungry for!

  “We need your sock, Aiden,” I say finally.

  “Why?” he asks me. “It’s all sweaty.”

  “Exactly,” I reply. “I need the smelliest, sweatiest sock possible.”

  Aiden shrugs. “Okay. You asked for it.”

  He peels off his stinky sock and goes to hand it to me. But there’s no way I am touching that thing. Instead I say, “Stick a rock inside it. Then roll it up into a ball and pitch it into the woods and down the mountain—as hard as you can.”

  “Why stick a rock in it?” Aiden asks me.

  “It will go farther with a little extra weight.”

  “Makes sense,” Aiden agrees. He pauses for a second and then asks me, “Why exactly am I throwing my sock, anyway?”

  AROOOOOOO!

  Because of that.

  “Do it!” I insist. To be honest, I’m not sure this plan will work. But it’s the only plan we’ve got right now.

  So Aiden puts a rock into his sock and throws it. Hard. It flies into the woods and out of sight. That was some throw. We’re lucky Aiden is such a good athlete.

  Now we have to hope that the capcaun will take the bait. My classmates are counting on this plan to work. Which is a lot of pressure on me. I may be really smart, but I’m still just a kid.

  A kid who really doesn’t want to be a capcaun’s late-night snack.

  The capcaun’s four eyes, which have been focused on us through the trees, turn away.

  Sniff. Sniff. Sniff. I hear the capcaun sniffing at the air. Then I hear leaves and twigs crackling in the woods as he runs after Aiden’s stinky sock.

  Phew! The capcaun has picked up Aiden’s scent on the sock, like a dog would. He’s chasing the scent of what he thinks is a kid.

  But soon he’ll realize that it’s no kid—just a smelly, sweaty gym sock. Which will make him madder than ever.

  FROGBOTTOM FACT

  Transylvania got its name partly from the Latin word “silva,” which means “forest.” “Transylvania” literally means “the land beyond the forests.”

  “Now we run!” I say.

  “Hey! Wait for me!” Aiden cries out as he jams his foot back into his shoe and hurries to catch up.

  10

  LUB-DUB. LUB-DUB.

  My heart is pounding. Not because we ran up a mountain and climbed hundreds of stairs to reach the door to Bran Castle.

  My heart’s pounding because I’m really nervous. I can’t believe the vampire is real. But he is. And this is really happening.

  We’re standing silently at the top of the hidden staircase, right outside Mr. Liliac’s vampire lair. My classmates are watching as I prepare to enter the room and set my plan in action.

  FROGBOTTOM FACTS

  The large oak door at the entrance to Bran Castle today is not the original door. The original door was much smaller, and visitors had to cross a drawbridge to reach the castle.

  The drawbridge sat above a fifteen-foot-deep gap in the rocky mountain that the castle was built on. The gap had to be dug out of the rock
by hand, since dynamite and power tools had not been invented yet.

  I put a lot of thought into this plot. I considered every last detail. But that doesn’t guarantee it’s going to work. In every experiment—and this is really only an experiment because I’ve never tried it before—there’s always a chance something could go wrong. Which would be really dangerous. Especially for me.

  I can’t worry about that now. Mr. Liliac is getting closer and closer to Ms. Frogbottom. He’s moving in slow motion, like a vampire in an old black-and-white movie.

  I can’t see Mr. Liliac’s face because he’s turned away from us. But I can imagine his mouth wide open and his fangs poised to take a bite of my teacher’s neck. The thought of it is frightening.

  You would think Ms. Frogbottom would be scared to death. But she doesn’t seem frightened at all. She’s sitting there, looking up at him with this strange, goofy expression on her face. She’s not trying to run or fight back. I think Mr. Liliac’s got her so hypnotized that she can’t.

  Thump-bump. Thump-bump.

  I hear footsteps coming up the stairs behind me. My classmates and I are all here. So who…?

  “Master! Be careful. They are plotting against you!”

  It’s Mr. Sange. He has been spying on us. Just like I thought. He had to have been. How else would he have known about our plan?

  Suddenly it all makes sense. Mr. Sange isn’t only a gardener. He’s Mr. Liliac’s faithful servant. He brings the vampire fresh victims and keeps away his enemies.

  Now I get it: Mr. Sange invited us to the castle so that Ms. Frogbottom could be Mr. Liliac’s next victim. And Mr. Sange spied on us so he could report on our every move and keep us from getting in the way. Mr. Sange wasn’t going to let a bunch of kids stop Mr. Liliac from turning Ms. Frogbottom into a vampire.

  I wouldn’t be surprised if Mr. Sange somehow let the capcaun know where we were, in order to keep us out of Mr. Liliac’s way while he took a bite of Ms. Frogbottom.

  Mr. Liliac turns toward us. I can see the anger in his face. Which is terrible. I can’t think of a single good thing that can happen when a vampire is mad at you.

  Mr. Liliac’s eyes fall to my neck. His mouth breaks into a wide grin. His bright, white, pointy fangs glow in the dim light.

  Lub-dub. Lub-dub. My heart pounds harder. Those fangs look sharp.

  Mr. Liliac takes a few steps toward me. I wait for the garlic scent to ward him off. But it doesn’t. That vampire keeps walking toward me.

  Closer.

  And closer.

  And closer still. I can feel his hot breath on me, which means…

  My plan’s not working. Something has gone very wrong.

  Mr. Liliac is going to bite my neck. He’s going to turn me into a vampire. I will become one of the undead.

  My mind starts racing. What will it feel like to be a vampire? Will my brain work the same way? Vampires live forever. Does that mean I will remember every single thing I read and hear from now through all eternity? That would be a lot of information. Will I—

  “Sofia! Run!” Emma cries.

  She’s right. I should run. I should scream. I should do something.

  But I can’t. I am literally frozen with fear. I can’t seem to move a muscle.

  Mr. Liliac leans in toward me. And…

  “AAAAAAH!” Mr. Liliac lets out a scream. He sniffs at the air around me. And backs away. He must smell the garlic.

  The vampire leaps up into the air.

  But he doesn’t come down.

  Instead he shrinks to the size of a fist. Two black-brown wings sprout from his back. The vampire is shape-shifting into a bat. Right before our very eyes.

  The Mr. Liliac–bat flies out through the small open window and disappears into the dark Romanian night.

  “Master! Wait for me!” Mr. Sange cries as he races toward the window. He climbs out onto the balcony. “Do not leave me!”

  Now we are alone in the vampire’s den. Just the six of us kids.

  And our teacher, who is staring into space with a goofy look on her face.

  I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. That was close. Really close. Way too close.

  “You did it!”

  “Sofia, you’re amazing!”

  “You are one brave brainiac!”

  My classmates are surrounding me and cheering. They’re congratulating me on being smart, instead of making fun of me for it. That feels really good.

  It also feels really good not to be a vampire. Things got pretty close there for a second.

  “Olivia!” Ms. Frogbottom leaps to her feet. “We’ve been looking all over for you.”

  “We found her a while—” Aiden begins.

  I nudge his side to keep him quiet. Ms. Frogbottom has been under a hypnotic spell. She probably doesn’t realize that any time has gone by. Telling her we found Olivia a while ago would only confuse her.

  Ms. Frogbottom looks at me. “Sofia, you need to stop scratching your mosquito bites. You’ve made the one on your neck bleed.”

  My fake blood really must look very real. It fooled a vampire and a teacher.

  “Okay, so now that we’re all together, why don’t we continue our tour of Bran Castle?” Ms. Frogbottom glances around the room. “I wonder where Mr. Liliac has gotten to.”

  “I think I heard him say something about having to take off,” Emma replies.

  “He just flew out of here,” Olivia jokes.

  “Oh.” Ms. Frogbottom sounds disappointed. “Well, never mind. I’m sure we can still learn a lot touring the castle without him.”

  “No!” Tony exclaims. “I’ve seen enough of this place.”

  “But we haven’t visited the kitchen yet,” Ms. Frogbottom tells him. “Or the courtyard. Or…” Our teacher gazes around the room. A confused look comes over her face. “I must be getting tired. I barely remember coming up here. I’m not sure what this room was used for hundreds of years ago, but I’m sure Mr. Liliac knows.”

  “I’m sure he does too,” Emma whispers to me. “Vampires live forever. He was probably here hundreds of years ago.”

  I don’t need Mr. Liliac to tell me the purpose of this room. We all know it’s a vampire lair, where Mr. Liliac spends his nights feeding on the blood of innocent victims, and his days sleeping in a coffin bed. Which is why we really need to get out of here. That vampire needs to be back in his coffin before the sun comes up. We have to be gone before he returns.

  I let out a huge fake yawn. Actually, it’s not so fake. This has been a long night. “Would it be okay if we went back to camp now?” I ask Ms. Frogbottom. “I want to be alert for tomorrow’s water experiments.”

  Emma lets out a big yawn too. “I’m ready for sleep,” she agrees. “Lala Radala always says, ‘Get eight hours’ rest to look your best.’ ”

  The yawning is contagious. Now all my classmates have their mouths open.

  “I suppose we should go back,” Ms. Frogbottom agrees as she pulls the Magic Map from her backpack. “Tomorrow is another day.”

  Ms. Frogbottom places her finger on the map. Suddenly a white light flashes all around us. My body feels weightless, and I think my feet have just left the ground.

  It’s like I’m flying in space. And then…

  11

  “MAY I HAVE ANOTHER TEST tube?” I ask Ms. Frogbottom. We are collecting water samples from the creek at science camp this morning, and there’s a particularly brown batch near the shore I’d like to test.

  “Of course, Sofia,” Ms. Frogbottom says. She reaches into her backpack and pulls out a glass tube.

  ROAROOO!

  Suddenly we hear an animal howling in the woods. My classmates and I all stop in our tracks and listen.

  ROAROOO!

  “It can’t be,” Olivia says.

  “Of course not,” Oliver agrees.

  “Capcauns are only in Romania, right?” Tony adds.

  I am about to tell Tony he’s right, and then a really bad smell fills the air.
Now I’m not too sure.

  There’s a rustling in the nearby trees. Something is moving toward us. That smell is getting stronger and stronger.

  ROAROOO…

  “Oomf!” Tony lets out a groan as he’s knocked to the ground by a fast-running puppy.

  A very smelly puppy.

  “Get off me,” Tony says as the stinky pup licks his face and jumps all over him. “You smell.”

  “Now you know how we felt about your garlic,” Olivia tells him.

  “Why does that puppy smell so bad?” Emma wonders.

  “The poor thing’s been sprayed by a skunk,” Ms. Frogbottom tells us.

  “Now I smell skunky,” Tony groans.

  Just then a tall, thin man comes running our way.

  “Who’s that?” Oliver wonders.

  “I don’t know,” Ms. Frogbottom replies.

  “He’s not a vampire,” Emma says. “He wouldn’t be out in broad daylight if he were.”

  “Frisky! There you are,” the man calls out.

  The puppy leaps off Tony. His tail wags wildly as he runs toward his owner.

  “I’m so glad these kids found you,” the man tells Frisky. He sniffs at the air. “I see you’ve met up with a skunk.”

  “And now the skunk stink is all over me,” Tony tells him.

  “I’m sorry,” the man replies. “Frisky always seems to be getting into trouble with the skunks at this science campground. My family and I live just down the road. We’ve had to give Frisky skunk-smell treatments more times than I can count.”

  “There are treatments?” Tony repeats the word hopefully.

  “Of course,” the man replies. “All you have to do is take a bath in a lot of tomato juice.”

  “Blood-red tomato juice,” Emma says. She lets out a little giggle.

  “Is there any other kind?” Frisky’s owner asks curiously.

  Now we kids are all laughing.

  Ms. Frogbottom looks at us. “What’s so funny?” she asks.

  “Nothing,” I answer. There’s no way we can explain this to Ms. Frogbottom.

  “Here you go, Tony.” Ms. Frogbottom reaches into her backpack and pulls out three huge cans of tomato juice. “You’ve got to get rid of that smell. The sooner the better.”