Curse of the Broomstaff

by Tyler Whitesides

  “Well,” Spencer finally said. “We’re up here now. You want to start by telling me who you are?”

  “I’m not that different from you, Spencer,” Aryl said. “Yes, I know your name.” He said it before Spencer realized that he’d never introduced himself to Aryl. “And I know a lot more than that.”

  Aryl’s gloved hands reached up, and he cast off the deep hood of his cloak. His hair was trimmed short. In the moonlight, it shimmered as white as the driven snow.

  “That’s right, Spencer.” Aryl nodded. “I’m an Auran too. But you probably know me by a different name. They call me a Dark Auran.”

  Chapter 37

  “How much can you trust her?”

  Spencer lurched sideways in an attempt to get to his feet. The tire mountain wobbled, and he suddenly felt dizzy. “Where’re you going to go?” Aryl said. “We’re quite alone up here.”

  Spencer scolded himself for being so rash in his decision to follow Aryl without even really knowing who he was. “That’s why you brought me up here? So I’d have no place to run when I found out what you are?”

  “Precisely.” Aryl nodded. “I needed a few undisturbed minutes with a captive audience so I could try to set you straight.”

  “I don’t understand,” Spencer said. “V told me that the

  Dark Aurans were . . . dead.”

  “Lie number one,” said Aryl, “since I’m clearly alive.”

  “But why would V lie about that?”

  “She lies about a lot of things. Where are they leading you?”

  “None of your business,” Spencer said. “You’re trying to fool me. Trying to turn me against them. I fell for this with Garth Hadley. I’m not falling for it again. You’re the dark one. The Aurans said your powers made you evil.” Aryl clicked his tongue. “That’s a bit harsh. You haven’t heard my side of the story.”

  They stared at each other for a moment. When Aryl didn’t go on, Spencer followed up with another question.

  “What did you do?”

  “We stole something from the Aurans,” he said.

  “Important information that we didn’t think they could be trusted with.”

  “So you’re a thief,” Spencer said. “This isn’t helping your cause.”

  “When the Aurans found out what we’d done, they took us by surprise and dragged us out into the middle of the landfill. To an ancient place called the Broomstaff,” Aryl said.

  “Broomstaff?”

  “It’s an Old English word, mostly obsolete now,” said Aryl. “The modern term is broomstick.”

  “The Aurans took you to a broomstick?” Spencer said.

  If Aryl was making this up, he should have thought through it a little better.

  “Not just any broomstick. The Broomstaff was built by the Founding Witches long ago. It has more power than the Dark Aurans combined.” Aryl grimaced at an old memory. “The girls led us there, one hundred and ninety-two years ago. They destroyed us.”

  “What did they do to you?” Spencer had to know.

  “What happened at the Broomstaff?”

  Aryl leaned forward. In the moonlight, Spencer saw a glint of metal around the boy’s neck. Aryl tugged at the collar of his cloak to fully expose what was there. A thin sheet of bronze was bent across his shoulders and fused together just beneath his chin. It was rectangular in shape, and when the boy turned, Spencer could see that there was a smooth handle jutting out the back, like a single spike raised along his spine.

  At first, Spencer couldn’t make any sense of it. Why did this strange Auran boy have a sheet of metal welded tightly around him? Spencer took a moment to mentally unfold the piece of metal, trying to envision its original shape before it bent around Aryl’s form. Then it clicked. It wasn’t just an ordinary sheet of metal. It was a dustpan!

  “They call it the Pan,” Aryl said, his voice soft and intense. Ancient and weathered, the metal around Aryl’s neck bore countless dents and scratches, each seeming to hold some untold story.

  “What does the Pan do?” Spencer didn’t want to ask, but he needed to know. Obviously, the girls had lied about a few things. Spencer still hadn’t decided to trust Aryl, but at least the Dark Auran was giving answers.

  “The Pan mutes our powers.” Aryl flicked the metal around his neck, and it echoed in the darkness with a resounding ping. “Makes it so we can’t use any of our Dark Auran abilities unless the other Aurans order us to do so.”

  “So, the other boys,” Spencer said. “The other Dark Aurans are still alive too?”

  “They’re just like me,” Aryl said with a bitter smile.

  “Reduced to hapless puppets. We’re no more than slaves to the other Aurans. The Pan makes us do whatever they command, no questions asked.”

  Aryl made it sound terrible, and it was. For him. But perhaps it was for the better. If the Dark Aurans really were evil, if they’d really stolen something that didn’t belong to them, then maybe the girl Aurans had done this to keep the boys in control.

  “Why don’t you run?” Spencer asked. “Leave this place forever, so the other Aurans can’t find you?”

  Aryl grimaced. “Can’t leave. That’s part of the Panning.

  We’re trapped here, doomed to wander this landfill forever.”

  “And you’ve been like this for . . .”

  “One hundred and ninety-two years,” Aryl said without hesitation. “But who’s counting?”

  There was one thing Spencer didn’t understand. “Down in the Valley of Tires,” he said. “I think the other Aurans knew you were behind the attack. Why didn’t they just order you to stop the Thingamajunks?”

  “The Aurans can only give me orders when they are holding onto the handle of my Pan.” He grinned rakishly.

  “I’ve spent one hundred and ninety-two years making it right near impossible for them to reach me.” He leaned closer to Spencer. “They can take away my powers, but I won’t let them use me to do their bidding.”

  “What exactly are your powers?” He was tired of hearing people mention such things without knowing what the Dark Aurans were capable of.

  “Same as yours, I imagine,” Aryl answered, “since you’re a boy Auran.”

  “I don’t really have powers,” Spencer said. “I’m just the basic-package Auran.”

  Aryl chuckled. “You just haven’t figured it all out yet.

  I could help you. I could teach you all I know and set you down the path that I walked over a hundred years ago.” Spencer drew back at this. What was Aryl’s path? V had said the Dark Aurans had turned corrupt and used their powers for evil. “I’d rather not know,” Spencer finally said.

  “Whatever powers you guys had led to that.” He pointed to the Pan around Aryl’s neck. “I’m here for another reason.”

  “You still don’t trust me,” Aryl said. “You think I’m evil.”

  “You did lead a stampede of wild Thingamajunks into the Valley of Tires with the intent to trample the Aurans,”

  Spencer pointed out. “That doesn’t really seem like something a good guy would do.”

  Spencer didn’t know exactly when it had happened, but he suddenly noticed that the sounds of battle had ceased from below. Now, only the wind howled through the tires. “I should go back,” Spencer said, peering over the steep edge. “The others will be looking for me.”

  Aryl sighed, his shoulders slumping just slightly in de feat. “I wouldn’t take any chances with them.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If the Aurans find out who you really are, they won’t be happy,” Aryl said. “They won’t wait for you to discover your powers. By then you would be too strong. If they find out you’re an Auran, they’ll lead you to the Broomstaff, Spencer. And they’ll Pan you.”

  “That’s not going to happen,” Spencer said. “They don’t know I’m an Auran and they’re not going to find out.”

  “I found out,” Aryl observed.

  Spencer looked at him. “How?”

&nbs
p; “It’s amazing what kind of evidence was left behind in that garbage truck you drove in on.” Aryl reached into the depths of his cloak and pulled out a spiral-bound notebook.

  “I found Walter’s notes. They were quite telling.” Spencer swallowed hard. He wondered what other important information was hidden among Walter’s Glop recipes and sketches.

  “Don’t worry,” Aryl said, hiding the notebook away once more. “I took it before the other Aurans had a chance to scour the vehicle.”

  “No problem, then,” Spencer said. “The girls don’t know I’m an Auran, and as long as you keep quiet, they’re never going to find out.”

  “Unless they already knew before you came here?” Aryl said.

  Spencer scoffed nervously. “That’s ridiculous. How would they . . . ?” He trailed off as he thought of a way. “I guess they could have seen me through Walter’s eyes.

  Maybe heard us talking about me being an Auran.” Aryl shook his head. “The Aurans are far too cautious to trust what they see through warlock visions. They would have sent someone in person to make sure.”

  The doubt that had been nagging Spencer finally expressed itself as a whisper. “Rho.”

  “How much can you trust her?” Aryl said.

  Spencer sat up like a dog on point as voices drifted up from the valley below. It was the Aurans and his Rebel friends shouting his name.

  “They’re looking for you, mate,” Aryl said. “What’s it going to be? Are you going back to the Aurans? Or are you sticking with me so I can teach you about your powers?” He extended a hand.

  The voices were rising in unison now. “Spencer?

  Spencer?”

  He felt his gut twist with nerves. He couldn’t trust Aryl enough to abandon his friends. Leaving the Aurans was one thing. But Daisy, his dad, Bernard, Walter, Penny? “I have to go back,” Spencer said. “At least for a little while. We didn’t come all this way to chicken out now. The minute I think the Aurans are on to me, we’ll make our escape.”

  Aryl shrugged. “Just don’t wait too long.” He tugged at the collar of his cloak again, as if to give Spencer one final clear look at the Pan.

  “Spencer?” the voices called from below. “Spencer?”

  “Thanks for your help, Aryl.” Spencer shook the Dark Auran’s still-outstretched hand.

  “You better answer them,” Aryl said.

  Spencer let go and leaned over the edge of the tires.

  “I’m up here!” he shouted as loudly as he could.

  Spencer sat up again. “Think they heard that?” he asked Aryl. But when he turned, the Dark Auran was gone.

  Chapter 38

  “I don’t know anything about that.”

  Spencer awoke to morning sunlight and acrid smoke. His eyes fluttered a few times and then he sat bolt upright. They were still in the Valley of Tires, but the place looked quite different than when they’d arrived. There were scattered body parts from ruined Thingamajunks littered around. The Aurans must have set fire to the remains, and the smoldering scraps of trash tainted the air with dark pollutants.

  “You woke up with a jump,” Rho said, crossing over to him. “Thought you were still up there?” She pointed up the side of the wall of tires. Spencer felt dizzy just looking at it in the daylight. It was much higher than he’d thought.

  Spencer had come up with a good story. The girls already suspected that a Dark Auran was behind the Thingamajunk stampede. Lying to the Aurans would only arouse their suspicions. So he went with the truth. A version of the truth, anyway.

  “So you didn’t catch his name?” Rho asked as she passed

  Spencer a steaming bowl of oatmeal.

  “Whose name?”

  “That Dark Auran you met last night,” Rho said casually.

  Spencer shook his head and ladled a spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth. “I told you, he pulled me out of that Thingamajunk’s mouth, dunked me in a tub of rainwater, and then made me climb. By the time we reached the top, you were all looking for me. I shouted down, and I guess he didn’t want to get caught, so he took off.”

  He was pretending. And he hoped it was good enough to fool Rho. In a way, it felt satisfying to deceive her. She’d lied to him about being Jenna. And according to Aryl, she might be lying now. He stared into her eyes, trying to see if she knew about his Auran sense.

  Spencer took a few more bites of oatmeal. It burned his tongue, and he could just picture his mom saying, “That’s what you get for lying.” But he couldn’t tell the Aurans the truth. He had to be cautious and see what he could learn from them.

  Spencer scanned the valley. The Aurans were looking worse for wear, silvery hair disheveled and dirty. The fight against the wild Thingamajunks had been grueling, but all the Aurans had survived. His Rebel friends were helping to untangle mop strings from the barbed-wire trap.

  “Why did V tell me that the Dark Aurans were dead?”

  Spencer asked.

  “They are dead to us,” Rho answered, unwilling to make eye contact. “They’re evil, Spencer. I’m surprised he didn’t hurt you.”

  It was risky, but he probed further. “He was wearing something strange. It looked like a piece of metal around his neck.”

  Rho shrugged. “I don’t know anything about that. I haven’t seen the Dark Aurans in years.” She swallowed a mouthful of oatmeal and quickly changed subjects. “So, V’s getting ready to use the Spade,” Rho said.

  “She’s literally going to rock the earth. The ground is going to peel up out of the gorge in front of us, and the ground behind us is going to get sucked down into the gorge that you crossed yesterday.”

  “What about your building? The one with the round table?”

  “It has a Glopified foundation,” Rho said. “It always stays topside, regardless of the rotation.”

  Spencer paused, thinking about what might happen to Aryl when V used the Spade. It would be suspicious if he asked outright, so Spencer thought of a cover question. “But the Thingamajunks?”

  “We’re at the north side of the landfill right now, but the Spade will roll us back to the south.”

  “So all the Thingamajunks behind us will get pulled underground,” he said.

  Rho nodded. “It takes them a while to crawl out, but they usually find their way topside again.”

  Thingamajunks were creatures of Glop and garbage, so they could survive underground. Aryl was a human being who needed oxygen. Spencer was surprised to find that he was nervous for the Dark Auran. His anxiety was probably misplaced anyway. If Aryl had been clever enough to set that elaborate stampede to separate Spencer, then he was probably clever enough to stay ahead of the Aurans when V used the Spade.

  V strode past, gripping the rawhide handle of the Spade in both hands. “All right!” she called. “Let’s get packed up and get a move on!”

  Spencer tossed his Styrofoam bowl of oatmeal and stood up. He secured his janitorial belt and pulled on his backpack. Leaving Rho to follow, he set off after V.

  The Aurans and Rebels gathered around V at the edge of the north gorge. “It’s been a while since we’ve trekked this deep into the landfill,” V said. “Things kind of get out of proportion from here on. After the ground shifts, we’ll break into three groups again. We travel fast and rendezvous at our destination just after dusk.”

  V lifted the Spade. It looked like an ordinary shovel in her hands. “Brace yourselves,” she said. Then, with a mighty thrust, she drove the metal end deep into the hard soil. A huge crater formed in the ground where the Spade touched down, as if the force of V’s thrust had blasted the soil away. At the same time, a shock wave rippled out from the Spade, knocking Spencer onto his back.

  There was a tremendous grating sound, and Spencer felt the ground shift beneath him. His fingers dug into the dirt, and he felt like he might fly off the earth at any second. He heard Daisy crying out in surprise at his side.

  Something bizarre was happening in the north gorge.

  The landscape was bendin
g and warping, new formations appearing like cardboard cutouts in a child’s pop-up book. The earth seemed to be rolling away from the gorge.

  Spencer watched the abyss grow smaller and then disappear completely, his view claimed by new, odd trash-scapes. Then it ended as suddenly as it had begun. The ground came to a ripstop halt, and Spencer’s momentum sent him rolling in the dirt.

  He sat up, taking stock of his surroundings. The Rebels were still in the Valley of Tires, surrounded by Aurans. But the Valley of Tires, instead of being near the north gorge, was now comfortably situated at the opposite edge of the landfill, near the spot where the bridge had collapsed under Bernard’s garbage truck. With the new terrain exposed, another day’s worth of hiking lay before them.

  “Is everybody all right?” V said, picking herself up off the ground and plucking the Spade out of its newly formed crater.

  “I’m a little motion sick,” said Daisy, grasping at her head. “That was like a bad roller coaster.”

  The Aurans seemed less affected. They were on their feet in moments, while the Rebels rose unsteadily, as though the ground might get pulled out from under them again. “Okay,” Bernard said, dusting off his tweed coat. “This place is officially crazy. Enchanted landfill, trash with a mind of its own. What’s next, dumpsters that dance the hula?”

  Chapter 39

  “With an attachment.”

  They set off, leaving the Valley of Tires behind at last. Gia, Lina, Netty, Dela, Shirley, Sylva, Yorkie, and Jersey had gone ahead to scout, just like yesterday. Rho and V remained behind with the Rebels.

  Just as Rho had mentioned, the Valley of Tires was only a foreshadowing of the strange features yet to come. This far into the landfill, the landscape became even more affected by the settling Glop pollutants.

  They hiked through huge arches that looked like they’d been chiseled by wind and eroded by water for thousands of years. But instead of natural rock, the twisting archways were formed entirely of garbage. Dirty plastic bags, their contents resilient against decomposition, were knit together by the percolated Glop.