“Witches?” Warren repeated.
“They’re used for spells. Curses and dark magic.” Mr. Friggs said, shaking his head in dismay. “I hate to say it, my boy, but our situation is far more dire than we thought!”
THE GIANT TOOTH
* * *
nnaconda paced anxiously in her chamber, clutching the page she’d seized from Warren and trying her best to make sense of the poem. Her fists clamped the paper so tightly it was now as limp as a tissue; even the ink had begun to run. Annaconda worried that the words would be illegible before she had a chance to decode them, and yet she couldn’t force herself to set down the blurry page, lest something happen to it.
In the corner of the room the air shimmered, and Annaconda whirled in time to see her young apprentice step through a small portal. “You’re late,” she snapped.
The girl bowed. White hair spilled forward from her hood. “My apologies, Your Darkness.”
“I’ll let it pass … this time.” Truth be told, Annaconda was glad to share the poem with someone. “I want you to read this and tell me what you make of it.”
With only a slight hesitation, the girl accepted the damp paper from Annaconda’s clammy outstretched hand. She held it up to the window, reading the backward writing reflected in the glass.
“Well?” Annaconda said impatiently.
“It appears to be a riddle,” the girl replied. “About an All-Seeing Eye.”
“Of course it’s a riddle! But what does it mean?” Annaconda snatched back the page. “I haven’t slept a wink all night. These words keep taunting me! Surely they must mean something!”
ELDDIR DRAWKCAB EHT
“Your Darkness, is this part of my lesson?” the girl asked innocently. “If it is, I’m afraid I don’t know the answer.”
Annaconda snorted. “My nephew says he found it in the hedge maze. Did you happen to see him last night?”
“Yes, Your Darkness. I was following him. Just as you requested.”
“Did you see him carrying a journal? A book? Full of backward-written texts just like this one?”
The girl shook her head. “No, Your Darkness. He heard my footsteps and he started to chase me. I had to leave the maze to escape being caught. I never saw any book.”
“Of course you didn’t,” Annaconda muttered.
The girl bristled under Annaconda’s disdainful tone but said nothing. Instead, she produced a heavy textbook from under her cloak; the cover depicted six interlocking triangles underneath the title Elementary Dark Magick. “Will there be time for my lesson today?”
The question aggravated Annaconda even more. “Your precious lessons! It’s not like I have important work to do! Very well, then. What is it you want to learn? Black candle magic? Unlucky hexes? Poison brews?”
asked the apprentice. Annaconda froze. “What did you say?”
“My textbook has a section on perfumiers. It says that all dark witches must know how to spot them and how to avoid them.”
“You needn’t worry about perfumiers,” Annaconda said. “This hotel is a half day’s travel from the nearest village. They’ll never find us here.”
“Forgive me, Your Darkness, but what are they?”
Annaconda groaned. “Fine. Fine! We’ll discuss perfumiers.” She looked down at the page and shuddered as if dredging up a forgotten memory. The book depicted a beautiful woman with floral tattoos covering her arms and legs. “If you happen to encounter a perfumier–which is highly unlikely–you’ll immediately recognize her because of these tattoos. She earns one flower for every witch she captures. The best perfumiers have hundreds.”
* * *
“But why do they capture us?”
“Because they are so-called good witches. Powered by white magic and a desire to help people. Can you imagine? It’s ridiculous! Why would anyone want to help? These vile creatures can smell dark magic. They walk into a room and can sniff out a witch.”
“How awful!” said the apprentice.
“Even worse,” Annaconda continued, “perfumiers know we’re vulnerable when we cast spells, so that’s when they strike. They use their magic to draw us into tiny perfume bottles, trapping us forever like genies in a lamp.”
“What should I do if I see one?” asked the apprentice.
But that was a topic for another day. The clock on the mantel chimed and Annaconda released a low growl. “We’re out of time. I have visitors arriving this afternoon and I must attend to them. In the meantime, I need you to keep track of my nephew. Watch what he’s up to. Become his friend.”
“You wish for me to talk to him?”
“Yes. The boy’s been wandering around an empty hotel for five years. His only friends are a dimwitted chef and an old fool in the library. He hasn’t seen another child in years. So act nice and I bet he’ll tell you everything he knows.”
The apprentice hesitated. “Doesn’t that seem a little … cruel?”
Annaconda stormed toward her in a rage. “Cruel?! You’re here to learn dark magic! All dark magic is cruel! That’s why it’s dark! Now get out of here before I lose my temper and transform into a–”
the apprentice interrupted quickly, bowing in respect. She immediately opened a portal and vanished through the wall.
GNIVIRRA ERA SROTISIV
s Warren left Mr. Friggs and exited the library, he paused to consider his next steps. He needed to find the journal, but who had taken it? He wondered if he should check the chimney. Maybe one of those pesky ravens had picked it up, and now the birds were pulling out the pages to cushion their nest!
Before Warren could do anything, the hotel intercom crackled to life and Annaconda’s voice squawked through the static. “Warren! Lobby! Now!!”
Clearly, she had discovered he’d escaped the boiler room, and she didn’t sound happy about it. Warren trudged downstairs as though he was about to meet his doom. Now that he knew Annaconda was a witch, he was more frightened of her than ever. What punishments would she invent to torment him this time?
When he reached the lobby, Warren was surprised to see his aunt flanked by two other women. “There he is, the little weasel,” Annaconda said with a sneer. “Warren, come and meet your new aunts.”
“My new aunts?”
“That’s right, these are my beautiful sisters. They’ve come to stay with us.”
It seemed clear to Warren that witchcraft ran in the family–the two sisters studied him with sinister expressions. “Nice to meet you,” he said. He figured that in this case telling a lie was safer than the truth.
The first woman was short and wide, with frizzy gray hair; when she grinned at him, Warren could see she had two missing teeth. “This is Scalene, my elder sister,” Annaconda said.
The other woman was curvier and taller, though not quite as tall as his aunt Annaconda. She had long red hair that fell to her ankles and a large hooked nose that was spattered with freckles. “And this is my younger sister, Isosceles.”
“You warned us he was ugly,” Scalene said, “but he’s even more hideous than I expected. He looks like a toad!”
Warren gritted his teeth. He thought this was a case of the pot calling the kettle black, but his father had taught him never to insult a guest–even one who was an evil witch.
“What brings you to our hotel?” Warren asked.
“Just a family visit,” Annaconda replied, batting her eyelashes innocently.
“So they’re here to help you find the All-Seeing Eye?” Warren asked.
Scalene cackled. “Well, isn’t he a bold one!”
“Hmph. Is it that obvious?” said Isosceles, pouting.
“What a clever boy,” Annaconda added scornfully. “Yes, they are going to assist me. Especially now that I have such a vital clue in my possession.” She patted her dress pocket, where Warren knew the page was tucked safely away. “They’re also going to help me find the rest of the journal … unless you happen to remember where you put it?”
“I told you, I don�
��t have it,” Warren said.
Annaconda frowned. “That’s a shame. Perhaps my sisters will be able to prod your memory.”
All of a sudden, a blinding burst of purplish light filled room and the air reeked of rotten eggs. Warren was astonished to see that his new aunts were no longer themselves: Scalene had transformed into a mangy wolf, and Isosceles into a sharp-beaked vulture!
Annaconda smiled and crossed her arms over her chest. “Meet the members of my triangle coven! Our spirit animals would love the chance to feast upon your flesh!”
Scalene fixed her green-eyed gaze upon Warren and snarled viciously. With jagged teeth bared, she began skulking toward him. Isosceles flapped her wings, rising over Warren’s head and pecking at his golden curls. “Leave me alone!” he cried, stumbling in horror, his arms flailing.
THE SPIRIT ANIMALS
Annaconda threw her head back and cackled. “Not so clever now, are you?”
“Join us, sister!” Isosceles crowed. “Show Warren your spirit animal!”
But Annaconda shook her head. She could hear Rupert’s heavy footsteps on the stairs. “I mustn’t transform myself now; my foolish husband is coming. Change yourselves back, my sisters–quickly!”
Warren sighed in relief. He didn’t know what Annaconda’s spirit animal was, but he suspected her name offered a pretty big clue. With another burst of purple light and a blast of sulfur stench, Scalene and Isosceles reverted to their human selves mere seconds before Rupert strolled in, his nose buried in a newspaper.
He looked up and sniffed. “Is someone boiling eggs?”
Annaconda swept her husband into a romantic embrace. “Darling! My sweet Prince Charming! I have wonderful news. My lovely sisters have come to visit us!”
During introductions, the sisters preened and fussed over their brother-in-law, straightening his tie, pinching his cheeks, and complimenting his looks.
“So handsome!” cried Isosceles. “Sister didn’t tell us she’d married an actor!”
“And a successful businessman to boot,” Scalene cooed. “Look at this gorgeous hotel he’s running!”
Warren didn’t think his uncle’s face could possibly get any redder. “M-m-most charmed, ladies!” he stammered. “We’ll certainly enjoy your company.”
“Darling nephew!” Annaconda called. “Be a good little bellhop and bring my sisters’ luggage to their room.” She smiled pleasantly but her eyes were dark little pinpoints. Warren just nodded as Scalene and Isosceles heaped suitcases, boxes, and bags into his arms. They topped off the stack with a cauldron that weighed almost as much as he did.
Warren could barely stand beneath the weight of all the luggage, let alone see over the top. He weaved back and forth, attempting to keep his balance, the bags teetering dangerously.
“Room 805,” Annaconda said. “Now, run along.”
“But the hotel is empty,” Warren said. “Perhaps your sisters would be more comfortable on a lower floor?”
“What?” Annaconda said. “And deprive them of a beautiful view? After they’ve come all this way? I think not, Warren! Take their bags to Room 805 so they can enjoy our majestic scenery!”
“And be careful!” Scalene snapped.
arren climbed the stairs slowly, knees buckling and arms straining. He could hear the women cackling as they showered Rupert with more flattery and praise. The tower of suitcases seemed ready to topple at any moment, but somehow Warren managed to keep everything in place; after much huffing and puffing, he reached the eighth floor and stumbled to the threshold of Room 805. He kicked open the door just in time; the bags quickly tumbled out of his arms and spilled into the room.
Warren couldn’t remember the last time he had to prepare for a guest. He always hoped he could take his time and enjoy the experience. Upon looking around, however, he saw that Annaconda had ransacked the room. The beds were askew; the toppled nightstand was emptied of its contents; the closet doors were pulled off their hinges. Even worse, the room smelled sour, like sweaty socks left too long in a drawer.
Warren set to work, spreading the heavy drapes and pulling open the windows to let in fresh air. He arranged the furniture and cleaned up the mess. Once the beds were remade with fresh linens and fluffy quilts, the room looked much improved. Warren wished he had little mints to place upon the pillows. That would be a nice touch.
The bathroom was tidier. Warren checked the faucets to see if they worked. The water was a little rusty, but after a minute or so it ran clear. He filled a pitcher and set it on the nightstand between the beds, then nodded with satisfaction at a job well done.
As Warren slipped out of the room and back into the hallway, his stomach rumbled. He still hadn’t eaten, and it was well past lunchtime. He decided to venture to the kitchen to grab a snack from Chef Bunion, but he didn’t dare pass Annaconda and her sisters. He decided to use the dumbwaiter and bypass the lobby altogether.
Warren turned the corner but then stopped in his tracks. A dark form was crouched at the entrance to the dumbwaiter. It seemed to be sniffing the scent of Chef’s cooking drifting up the shaft. Sensing a presence, the figure whirled around and rose to full height.
Warren knew he was supposed to be courteous and accommodating, but the sight of this frightening person was too much to bear. The face looked sinister, almost inhuman.
Warren turned and bolted down the hall. To his horror, he heard muffled breathing and heavy footsteps rushing after him. He was being chased!
A SINISTER SURPRISE
Warren’s panic pushed his legs faster as he raced down the hall, swooshing past a painting of a mighty stallion leaping over a turnip patch and a bookshelf that held nothing but Annaconda’s fashion magazines. He turned corner after corner, causing the threadbare carpet to buckle and slide in his attempts to outrun his pursuer. But every time Warren dared to glance back, he saw Paleface close behind, tracking him like a bloodhound.
With relief, Warren spotted the stairway up ahead. He leapt onto the bannister and slid to the seventh floor. Paleface’s feet pounded down the steps, two at a time. Warren’s lungs were bursting as he hurtled down the hall, almost colliding with a bronze statue of a fox on the run. Warren felt just like the fox; his body was tiring and he knew he couldn’t maintain this breakneck speed much longer.
Suddenly, he caught a flash of white out of the corner of his eye and an icy hand curled around his wrist. The next thing Warren knew, he was being tugged into the hotel’s sewing room, the door slamming shut behind him.
Standing there was the girl from the maze. With a flick of the wrist she slid the dead bolt in place and then raised a pale finger to her lips. “Shhhhh!”
The sewing room was deserted. No one had used its equipment in a very long time. Dusty bobbins of once brightly colored threads hung from pegs on the wall, and bolts of moth-eaten fabric were piled on a nearby shelf. In the middle of the room was an ancient sewing machine atop a rickety table.
Warren could hear Paleface’s footsteps in the hallway, and more muffled breathing, but eventually the sounds faded. He slumped to the floor, his heart pounding in the silence.
“You smell terrible,” said the girl.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry,” she said, waving a hand in front of her nose, “but you smell like rotten eggs!”
Warren remembered the transformation of Scalene and Isosceles and realized that his clothing had absorbed some of their putrid-smelling dark magic.
“It’s not me, it’s–” he started to explain but then realized it was too strange. The girl would think he was crazy. “Who are you, anyway? I feel like you’ve been haunting me since last night.”
The girl drew back, looking cross. “Haunting is a bit of an exaggeration. I may be pale, but I’m certainly no ghost! My name is Petula.”
Pale was an understatement. The girl was white from head to toe. The only hint of color came from her clear blue eyes. Petula was almost as unusual looking as Warren. He decided he liked her immediatel
y.
“I’m Warren the 13th.” He held out his hand. “Truce?”
Petula considered him for a moment, then shook his hand. “Truce.”
Without further ado, Warren’s stomach released an embarrassing grumble. “You must be hungry,” the girl said, reaching into her pocket for a bit of ham sandwich wrapped in wax paper. “I nicked this from the kitchen. Here, you can have the rest.”
A NEW FRIEND?
Warren accepted the sandwich gratefully and noticed that all the crust had been nibbled off. He shrugged and bit into it anyway. He was too hungry to be picky.
“Are you here alone?” Warren asked.
“No, silly. My mother and I are staying here. We arrived yesterday morning.”
Warren didn’t see how that was possible. The only guest to arrive yesterday morning was Paleface. If there had been any other arrivals, surely Rupert would have called him to assist with the luggage.
“We’re taking an extended holiday,” Petula said. “Don’t ask me why we chose this hotel, because there is absolutely nothing to do. You don’t even have a swimming pool!”
“You’re certainly finding ways to stay busy,” Warren said. “I saw you in the hedge maze last night, sneaking around. Was scaring me your idea of a joke?”
“I’m sorry,” Petula said. “It’s so awfully boring around here. I was only trying to have a little fun.”
“What about the boiler room this morning? Are you the one who unlocked the door?”
Petula nodded. “What on earth were you doing in there anyway?”
“My aunt locked me in.”
“How dreadful!”
Warren shrugged. He’d grown accustomed to Annaconda’s cruelty, but he appreciated Petula’s concern. It was nice to talk to someone his own age. He began telling her all about his aunt and her evil sisters and their plan to steal the All-Seeing Eye.
Warren the 13th and the All-Seeing Eye Page 5
