Emily and the Spellstone

by Michael Rubens

  “I’m nearly there,” she said. Then she heard Dougie cry out and the sound of him sliding back down the slanted floor, and she felt the jolt as he hit the bars again, the cage sliding just a bit farther off its perch.

  Emily reached the short platform where the floor extended beyond the front of the cage and eased herself up onto it, holding on to a bar with one hand while trying to keep her weight tilted back and get the key into the lock. Dougie was trembling at the other end of the cage, looking up the slanted floor at her.

  “Dougie,” she said, and then was interrupted as—​sssshuuck—​the cage slid some more and she held her breath. “Dougie,” she continued, “use the bars on the side like a ladder. Climb up toward me, slowly.”

  “I’m scared!”

  “You can do it, Dougie. You can do it.”

  He started to climb, sniffling as he went.

  “Doing great, Dougie,” said Emily, trying to turn the key in the lock. “Keep going.” Stupid lock. Come on! she thought. Click clunk. There.

  Another complication. The door opened outward, and because of the angle of the cage outward also meant upward, like an old-fashioned cellar door—​and the iron cage door was heavy. Emily pulled on it, partially opening it, and then it slipped out of her grip and slammed shut again. Wham! Sssshhuuck. The cage shifted once more. Emily cursed and tried again. The cage seemed to be sliding slowly but steadily now. With a burst of adrenaline Emily managed to throw the door open, and it swung all the way back to clang against the bars, and the cage was definitely sliding, and Emily said, “Hurry, Dougie! As fast as you can!” Dougie laddered his way up the side bars until he reached the front bars, then monkey-barred his way along those until Emily could grab his wrist and pull him free. “Quick! Get on my back!”

  He climbed onto her back, clinging for dear life, and Emily started down the swinging rope ladder as fast as she could, rungs starting to rise as the cage slid farther, and then she let go as the cage finally overbalanced and started to fall. Emily and Dougie hit the ground in a heap an instant before the cage crashed into the yard not five feet away from them. The Venomüches, still frozen, watched.

  “Are you all right?” Emily said to Dougie, checking him rapidly for injuries.

  “I’m okay.”

  “Good. Stay here.”

  Only then did she go to Gorgo.

  He was lying at the base of the garden wall, eyes shut. As Emily got closer, she could see his wounds and her eyes became hot with tears.

  “Oh, Gorgo,” she whispered.

  His eyes fluttered, then opened. Without moving, he said, “Hey, Snack Food.”

  She laughed even though she was crying.

  “No,” he said as she came closer. “Don’t touch me. My blood will burn you.”

  “How do I help you?”

  “You can’t,” he said. He smiled at her. “You defeated a doggg, Emily. You really are a Stonemaster.” Then he stiffened in pain.

  “Gorgo!”

  “Emily, you have to go. You have to leave me.”

  “No!”

  “You’re running out of time and the Stone is running out of power. You know it. Take Dougie and go.”

  “Fine,” she said, and touched the Stone. Behind her the doors of the Spellevator materialized. “But you’re coming with me.” She jabbed a finger at the trembling Ugglins and Gugglins, who were trying to hide behind various frightening lawn ornaments. “You! All of you! Get him in there!”

  The last thing Emily saw before the doors slid shut was the Venomüch family shaking off the effect of their spell-induced paralysis.

  “You will pay for this, Emily Edelman!” screeched Acrimina.

  Emily made a rude gesture.

  The Spellevator bucked and rattled as they traveled, the Ugglins and Gugglins clinging to the walls, Dougie clinging to Emily.

  Gorgo took up most of the floor space. He had complained the whole time the Ugglins and Gugglins were effortfully dragging him into the Spellevator, telling Emily to leave him behind.

  “I’d leave you,” he had said.

  “Uh-huh,” she had responded. “Keep going, guys! Heave!”

  Now he was silent, eyes closed again, and Emily wasn’t sure if he was still alive.

  The Spellevator arrived at the midway point, the land of the Ugglins and Gugglins.

  “All right, you guys, out!” Emily said when the doors opened.

  “No! You come! You queen! You command!”

  “OUT!” she bellowed, and they scurried out, the doors closing behind them.

  “Dougie, sit down and hold on. I have to help Gorgo.”

  She went and knelt by Gorgo’s head. He didn’t move.

  “Don’t be dead, Gorgo,” she whispered.

  He groaned. “I’m not. But I will be, and you’re a fool for trying to save me.”

  She held up the Stone, looking at it searchingly.

  “Emily . . . Stonemaster . . . put that away. It doesn’t have the power left to help me and also get you home. It won’t work.”

  “It will, because I’m going to make it work.”

  “Emily . . .”

  She held the Stone, focusing her intention: how do I save Gorgo, how do I save Gorgo . . .

  There. This one. She touched an apth.

  The creature that popped out of the Stone was even smaller than an Ugglin, but with a larger head and giant lemurlike eyes further accentuated by thick glasses. Whatever the creature was, it was wearing a white doctor’s coat and carrying a doctor’s bag. It took one look at Gorgo and then opened the bag and produced a series of vials and beakers filled with colored liquids and odd gases, one with tiny pink sparks. With a series of rapid pours and shakes and mixings, the creature created a bubbling, smoking cocktail in a shot glass. Then it held up the cocktail to Emily—​cheers!—​and drank it in one gulp. The creature threw everything back into the doctor’s bag, saluted, and appeared ready to disappear.

  “Wait!” said Emily. “You have to at least try!”

  The creature sighed, shook its head in resignation, then grabbed something out of the bag.

  “Is that a stapler?” said Emily. “Don’t—” But it was too late, because—​chunk chunk chunk chunk chunk chunk—​the doctor-creature had already commenced a rapid-fire staple job on Gorgo’s wounds.

  “OW!” howled Gorgo, and the doctor jabbed him with a syringe the size of a bicycle pump, and when Gorgo bellowed at that—​“YEOOOUCH!”—​the creature took the opportunity to jam a pill the size of a football down Gorgo’s throat. Then the creature shoved a bill for services rendered into Emily’s hand, saluted once more, and—​pop—​disappeared.

  The Spellevator immediately began bucking and rocking more violently than before, throwing Emily to the side.

  “Dougie, hold on!” she shouted, then grabbed on to a bench herself.

  “You’ve done it now,” rasped Gorgo. “You used the last of the Stone’s power. You wasted it on trying to save me! We’re not going to make it!”

  The turbulence doubled, then doubled again, as though an angry giant had seized the Spellevator and was shaking it up and down and side to side. Emily could hear Dougie screaming, but she felt screamed out. She clung to the railings, trying to catch Dougie when he was bounced into the air. The walls of the Spellevator seemed to be bowing and bending, squeezed and pulled and twisted, and then Emily started seeing flashes of gray light coming in through the seams of the walls as if the strain was starting to pull the sides apart, and then the walls were coming apart, separating, and suddenly the walls and ceiling and floor flew away completely and Emily and Dougie and Gorgo were falling, a great roaring in Emily’s ears, and she felt Gorgo grab her ankle and he pulled her in tight to his chest next to Dougie, and—​

  It seemed very quiet. She could hear birds singing and felt a gentle breeze.

  She opened her eyes. Blue sky, a few clouds.

  She sat up. She had been lying on Gorgo’s chest. Dougie was still there, one of Go
rgo’s arms tucked protectively around him as if Dougie were a teddy bear.

  “Dougie,” Emily said, and his eyes opened.

  “Wha—?” he said, then sat up suddenly, Gorgo’s arm flopping limply to the side.

  “What happened? Where are we?” asked Dougie, then twisted to look at Gorgo’s peaceful face. “Is he . . . ?”

  “I don’t know,” whispered Emily. They both got off Gorgo. Kneeling next to his head, Emily could see the staples in his wounds, which had stopped bleeding. He had a funny smile on his face, as though he was truly at peace.

  “He is,” whispered Dougie. “He’s dead.”

  “He caught us,” said Emily. “He caught us so we’d fall onto him.”

  Emily could feel the tears streaming down her cheeks. Very gently she reached out a hand and placed it on Gorgo’s forehead.

  “Oh, Gorgo,” she said, “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  Then she closed her eyes, buried her face in her hands, and sobbed. Dougie, not knowing what else to do, sobbed as well.

  “Believe me,” said a deep, rumbly, and very familiar voice, “you’re not nearly as sorry as I am. Ow—​my back.”

  Chapter

  Twenty-Two

  Angela, her head down, trudged along next to iDougie and iEmily, the three of them just beginning the walk from the school toward the Edelman household.

  Emily’s parents had looked at Angela very oddly this morning, as if they suspected that something was terribly wrong and their daughter’s friend was somehow connected to the trouble. Angela, of course, had no idea about yesterday’s visit to the doctor or about Mrs. and Mr. Edelman’s intense debate over whether or not to even send the kids to school.

  Angela didn’t know about any of that. All she knew was that she felt overwhelmed and helpless. The past few days had been a series of close calls and exhausting vigilance and growing fear that Emily would never come back. That thought filled Angela with despair. Once again she pulled the rock out of her pocket and looked at it, as if that would somehow make Emily contact her. But the rock just sat in her palm, rocklike, so Angela shoved it back into her pocket and trudged on.

  “Oh, look—​it’s the freak family.”

  Good ol’ Kristy Meyer, thought Angela, shaking her head, and kept walking.

  “I know you all can hear me!” said Kristy from behind her, and then Kristy sped up so she could get in front of the three of them and planted herself there, blocking Angela’s path.

  “Kristy,” said Angela, “what. What do you want? Why can’t you just leave us in peace?”

  “What did you do to me the other day, you freaks?” said Kristy.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You do! You’re both freaks! You and Emily both! You played some sort of trick on me before, didn’t you! Poisoned me or something, made me pass out.”

  “Kristy, that’s crazy,” said Angela. She actually felt bad for Kristy. Seeing iEmily remove her head would be pretty traumatic for anyone.

  “I know something weird is going on with you. You’re both weirdo freaks! Total weirdos who—”

  She was interrupted by a gentle chiming sound. Angela held up a finger.

  “I’m really sorry,” said Angela, “but I think I have to answer my rock.”

  Kristy watched with incredulous disdain as Angela pulled a smooth stone out of her pocket, lifted it to her ear as if it was a phone, and said, “Hello?”

  Then Angela’s face transformed into a huge grin. “Yes!” she shouted, tossed the rock over her shoulder, and grabbed Kristy in a big hug.

  “They made it!” said Angela. “They’re back!”

  Kristy angrily shook herself free of the embrace, pushing Angela away.

  “Don’t touch me, you loser! What are you looking at, you stupid little boy?”

  iDougie, who had been observing Kristy with bovine tranquility, continued to do so.

  “Stupid idiot,” said Kristy. “You’re as disgusting and gross as your stupid sister.”

  Which was precisely when the i-I apth ceased to function.

  One moment iDougie and iEmily were standing there as people, and the next they were dirt statues. And a moment later they crumbled into piles of dark soil.

  Angela thought for a second that Kristy was going to faint again. And then, observing her flabbergasted expression, Angela couldn’t resist. “Now look what you’ve done!” she said. “You really hurt their feelings!”

  “It all looks very peaceful down there,” said Gorgo. “Nice place to live.”

  Emily, Dougie, and Gorgo were standing on the hill that overlooked the town of Clearview. This was where they had landed when the Spellevator had failed. Gorgo had lain in the grass for a bit, groaning in pain and discomfort as he tested each body part for damage, then groaned some more as he got slowly to his feet, Emily and Dougie trying to help.

  “Ow. Whatever it is that doctor-thing did, it must have worked. But my everything hurts,” he said.

  There had been just enough power left in the Stone for Emily to call Angela: “Angela it’s Emily I’m almost out of power I got Dougie we’re back!” and then the connection had died.

  “That was so awesome!” said Dougie now. “The way you were like, ffsssshoooo! with that lightning sword, and that big dog was like, ppshoooo! And then we were, like, falling, and then . . .”

  Dougie had been going on like this since Gorgo’s recovery, evidently having made the decision that the whole terrifying experience had, in fact, been totally awesome.

  “It was totally awesome!” he said again, for the twelfth time.

  “Dougie,” said Emily.

  “It was pretty awesome, though,” said Dougie.

  “Yes, it was,” said Emily, and patted him on the head. She glanced at Gorgo, who was still obviously in pain.

  “You all right?”

  “Well, I got stabbed in the back with an enchanted blade, chewed up by a doggg, I got staples in me, and then I had these two kids fall on me from however high that was,” he said. “So I’ve been better.”

  “You saved those two kids’ lives,” said Emily quietly.

  “Yeah, well, only because some Stonemaster used her power to save mine.”

  He was looking out toward the town as he spoke.

  “Thought you were supposed to eat that Stone-master,” said Emily.

  “Nah—​she didn’t look that appetizing,” he said.

  “Gorgo . . .”

  He waved a hand at her. “Yeah, yeah.” He seemed embarrassed. Still without looking at her, he said, “I heard you. When we were in my house. I heard what you said to my family.” He cleared his throat. “Thanks.”

  Emily looked at him. He was still staring off at the town below them.

  “What?” he said. “I have something in my eye.”

  “Right.” She looked out at the town too, her arm around Dougie’s shoulders. “You weren’t going to hurt her, were you,” she said. “The maiden. When you got trapped in the Stone.”

  Gorgo sighed. His gaze on the horizon, he said, “There I was, out for a stroll, looking for something evil to do, and there’s this dragon. And he’s got this maiden. And things aren’t looking so good for the maiden. I can’t just stand there, right? So I deal with the dragon. Which, believe me, was no minor task.” He lifted one arm and pointed to one of his many scars, three claw marks that stretched in ugly lines down his flank.

  “So after I convince the dragon to go away, I go to her, and of course she’s unconscious. Very traditional maiden, you know, just has to faint because it’s expected of her. So she’s out cold and I’m going to pick her up, and wouldn’t you know it, who just happens along? A wizard. Beard, staff, pointy hat, whole thing. And bam—​suddenly I’m imprisoned in a Stone for several centuries.”

  “And now you’re free.”

  “Yes, I guess I am.”

  “So now what?” said Emily.

  “So now it’s time for me to go.”
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  “Go?”

  “I’m pretty beat up, Emily. I’ve got to go heal. Then, of course, I’ve got places to wreck, people to eat, evil to do. You know.”

  She looked at him. “Gorgo, you couldn’t do evil if you tried.”

  “Ouch. You really know how to hurt a guy. Oh, geez. You’re not going to hug me, are you?” he said, but it was too late, because she was. His knees, at least.

  “C’mon, now,” he said, but he leaned down and hugged her back. Carefully. “I think you have something in your eye too.”

  They hugged for a bit longer. When they separated, Emily said, “Am I ever going to see you again?”

  “You know how to whistle?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good—​I’ll swing back some time and you can teach me.” Gorgo grinned at her, then took a deep breath. “Ah. Good to be free. Goodbye, Emily Stonemaster.”

  “Bye, Gorgo,” she said, and sniffled.

  “Goodbye, Dougie,” said Gorgo. “Ach. All the hugging. Stop it with that.”

  When Dougie finally released his leg, Gorgo waved and began to fade.

  “Coooool,” said Dougie.

  Suddenly Gorgo became a little more solid.

  “Listen: you ever need things smashed, you know who to call. Goodbye . . . friend.” Then, with another wave, he faded to nothing, leaving just a wisp of smoke that curled in the air and then was carried away on the wind.

  Emily wiped at her tears. “Dougie,” she said, “let’s go home.”

  When Emily and Dougie walked in the front door, their parents and Hilary were standing there waiting for them with worried, solemn expressions.

  “Eek!” said Emily in surprise. “Hi? What are you doing home from work so early?”

  “Emily,” began Mr. Edelman, “we’d like to talk to—”

  “HIIIII!!!” said Dougie, and sprinted forward to hug his parents, nearly tackling them both in his enthusiasm. “I was in this game and there were these Ugglins and Gugglins and then these kids came and there was a monster and it was like, BOOOOM! And Emily had this magic sword and there was this magic elevator and . . .”