Candy Shop War

by Brandon Mull

  Nate followed Trevor over to the door with the black and gold Private sign. They opened it, and Trevor shone his flashlight up the long staircase. Treading lightly, they took the stairs one at a time, tense, ready to retreat if necessary. A couple of times a step creaked, and they paused, waiting, listening, trying not to breathe.

  At last they reached the top of the stairway and found a plain brown door with a peephole. Trevor placed a hand on the doorknob and slowly turned it. “It’s open,” he mouthed to Nate with wide eyes.

  Nate motioned for him to open it further.

  Switching the flashlight off, Trevor eased the door open. The room beyond was dark. Stepping through the doorway, Trevor felt thick carpeting beneath his shoes. Nate slipped in behind him. They left the door ajar.

  Trevor held up a hand for Nate to wait. He could hear the sound of something large breathing. He moved his mouth near Nate’s ear and whispered, “You hear that?”

  “Yes,” Nate whispered back.

  Trevor cupped a hand over the end of the flashlight and turned it on. His fingers glowed red, and just enough light escaped to reveal the big, round man lying sideways on the couch, mouth gaping, heavy chest rising and falling rhythmically, huge head cushioned on one fleshy arm. He wore a white undershirt, and a blue knit blanket covered him.

  The room was large, with two couches, two armchairs, an entertainment unit, and several bookcases crowded with old books and glass figurines. The entrance to a hallway yawned at one end of the room. Trevor crept away from the hallway, passing the couch, moving into the adjoining dining room and kitchen. He scanned the china cabinet and the tidy counters.

  A pocket door in the dining room was shut. Trevor pushed the door sideways and it slid into the wall, revealing a roomy study designed around an impressive wooden desk. Trevor uncovered the end of the flashlight, allowing the beam to shine brightly. Nate pointed at the desk. Trevor saw the pocket watch resting alongside a leather-bound copy of The Collected Reflections of Hanaver Mills.

  “She took the book,” Nate whispered.

  “Still no teleidoscope,” Trevor replied.

  Nate tiptoed into the room and tried the desk drawers, sliding them open and closed with extraordinary care. When he opened the third one, he froze, then pulled out the teleidoscope, pumping his fist in silent triumph. Trevor motioned for them to go, once again dimming the flashlight with his hand. Nate picked up the book as well, following Trevor back into the dining room.

  The instant Nate passed through the doorway, a blast of sound like a hundred trumpets blared for a solid three seconds. The unexpected clamor startled Trevor so much that he dropped his flashlight. Crouching to retrieve it, he saw that Nate had dropped the book, which Trevor grabbed as well.

  Their ears ringing from the explosion of sound, Trevor and Nate hurried toward the front room, but stopped short when they found the big, round man on his feet, facing them, his hair matted and disheveled. He had just turned on a lamp. In his undershirt and athletic shorts, his tremendous girth was on display. From his rotund torso to his elephantine limbs, blubber deformed his body. He was tall, a few inches beyond six feet, and nearly as wide, an obese hill of a man with a grouchy head on top.

  “This isn’t what it looks like,” Nate said.

  The big man opened his mouth, those thick, shiny lips spreading wide, as if to take a bite from a towering sandwich. His chest convulsed, and out shot an orange glob of jelly nearly the size of a grapefruit. The glistening projectile splattered against Trevor’s shoulder, about half of it continuing past him to slap the wall. The orange ooze on his shoulder writhed, shapelessly climbing toward his neck, moving like an amoeba. Shouting, Trevor wiped at the nightmare spitball, orange jelly squishing between his fingers.

  The man fired another orange glob of similar size at Nate, who avoided it by diving behind the dining-room table. Having wiped away most of the ooze, Trevor joined Nate behind the table, fumbling in his pocket for the Frost Bites. Nate was also digging in his pocket.

  Mouth still gaping, the big man walked toward them. Instead of expelling another glob of ooze, he sent a vast quantity of orange jelly gushing from his mouth like water from a fire hose. The stream of jelly collected on the table in a vivid, translucent mound, enough orange ooze to overflow a bathtub. The gooey pile quivered, stretched taller, and then surged off the tabletop, enveloping Nate.

  Trevor scrambled away from the table back into the study, tearing open the baggie with his Frost Bites inside. Nate looked like he was drowning in orange gelatin. Only his head and one arm remained outside the rippling ooze. The big man was approaching the table, looking considerably thinner, loose skin sagging, orange jelly no longer pouring from his lips.

  Trevor popped two Frost Bites into his mouth. It was his first time sampling the candy. They tasted like vanilla yogurt. For a moment he felt an intense chill sweep over him, and then his body went numb.

  The translucent gelatin now totally surrounded Nate. Trevor saw his encased friend move one hand to his mouth, followed instantly by a bright flash. The electrical burst liquefied the jelly, which slopped all around him to form a dull orange pool.

  Placing his palm to his mouth again, Nate arose, sparks crackling between his fingers. The pool of liquefied jelly began to flow toward the big man, who stayed on the far side of the table from Nate.

  “Run to the kitchen!” Trevor called, charging the big man. Nate retreated to the kitchen, dodging around the counter. The big man backpedaled into the front room. As Trevor neared the liquefied pool, it froze solid, taking on a frosted sheen.

  The big man opened his mouth and coughed a jellyball at Trevor. The sphere struck him in the chest and sent him spinning to the ground. His numbness prevented him from feeling the pain, but he heard ribs snap. It took Trevor a moment to realize that the coldness had frozen the jellyball, causing it to bash him instead of splatter.

  As the big man inhaled to launch another jellyball, Trevor spit out his Frost Bites. Instantly the numbness vanished and a sharp pain blossomed in the left side of his chest. The next jellyball splashed against his forehead, soaking his hair. “Nate!” Trevor called, crawling away as the big man advanced, another jellyball slapping wetly against his back, the gelatin on his head squirming against his scalp.

  Nate raced out of the kitchen, arms raised threateningly, electricity sparking from his fingertips. The big man faced Nate and spit out a glob of jelly the size of a golf ball. There was a flash as the glob struck Nate, and the tiny ball turned to liquid.

  “He’s shorting out my charge,” Nate yelled, slapping more Shock Bits into his mouth just in time for another undersized jellyball to waste his electricity. “I don’t have many Shock Bits left!”

  Trevor was now crawling on slick, frozen ooze. It vibrated beneath his hands and knees. Having spit out the Frost Bites, he could feel that the temperature in the apartment had lowered significantly. His breath visibly condensed in front of his face. What were his weapons? He had Moon Rocks, a couple of Mirror Mints, some Shock Bits, and his Frost Bites. “I can’t do Frost Bites!” Trevor warned, reaching for his Shock Bits. “Those balls of goo turn hard as a rock!”

  “I dropped the scope,” Nate said. “Snag it.”

  Glancing under the table, Trevor could see the teleidoscope lying on the far side, where the jelly had enveloped Nate. Trevor lunged under the table, sprawling on frozen ooze, ribs aching, and grabbed it.

  “Surrender now and we may show you leniency,” the big man said, cheeks drooping, baggy skin sagging from his bare arms and legs. He was considerably less rotund.

  Nate stood with a handful of Shock Bits ready. “I’ll eat these the second before I touch him,” Nate said. “Follow me.”

  Trevor was back on his feet, teleidoscope in hand. Nate rushed the big guy, who ran right at him vomiting a blinding stream of orange jelly. Before Nate could get the Shock Bits into his mouth, the big guy caught hold of his wrists, continuing to expel ooze from his mouth. Pulsating gelatin c
ocooned Nate for the second time.

  Trevor ran at them, teleidoscope in one hand, Shock Bits in the other. The instant before he reached them, Trevor slapped the Shock Bits into his mouth and sprang. His outstretched hand touched the gelatin, and with a flash like lightning, the ooze liquefied, the big man went tumbling, and Nate was hurled into the wall.

  Ribs smarting, Trevor got another dose of Shock Bits ready and approached the big man, who was shakily rising, his body grotesquely deflated, a skeleton wearing skin ten sizes too big. Orange liquid ran toward the freakish man across the floor, as if the apartment were tilting in his direction. Just before reaching him, Trevor ate more Shock Bits, a larger dose than he had ever tried, and swatted the man on the shoulder. A blazing flash and a crack like a gunshot sent the man soaring into the entertainment unit, scattering DVDs and overturning the television.

  Nate was on his feet and running for the front door. Trevor followed him, his last dose of Shock Bits ready in his palm. “Hold it!” ordered a voice that sounded like it had inhaled helium.

  Trevor turned and saw the blond dwarf with the flat top crouched in the middle of the hall that led away from the front room, hands balled into fists. He wore a dark blue tank top and gray sweatpants. A white glimmer flickered about him, gradually intensifying. He had a look on his face like he was trying to lay an egg. Since the dwarf was not moving, and Trevor was almost to the door, he refrained from eating his final dose of Shock Bits.

  The dwarf sprang, streaking toward Trevor as if he had been shot from a cannon, slamming into him with stunning force. Searing pain erupted in Trevor’s ribs. The teleidoscope flew out of Trevor’s hand, as did the Shock Bits, and he crashed to the ground with the dwarf’s strong arms wrapped around his torso.

  The teleidoscope rolled forward across the carpeting. Standing in the doorway, Nate picked it up. “Run!” Trevor gasped.

  Nate shoved a handful of Shock Bits into his mouth, and a glob of orange jelly splashed into him, accompanied by a flash. “That’s all I have!” Nate cried.

  “Run!” Trevor repeated, clinging to the dwarf, trying to give Nate a chance.

  Nate disappeared from the doorway. Trevor heard his feet thumping down the stairs. The feisty dwarf wrenched himself free and chased after him. The big man shambled over and collapsed onto Trevor, blanketing him with mushy loose skin. The man seized Trevor’s wrists, pinning them to the ground at either side of his head.

  “Your luck just ran out,” the big man said. His breath reminded Trevor of a rotten jack-o-lantern his family had once kept on the porch too long.

  Trevor bucked and struggled but, even deflated, the big man was too strong. Orange liquid began to slither over Trevor, warm and syrupy. The liquid streamed up the big man’s arms and flowed into his gaping mouth. Trevor closed his eyes.

  “Trevor, Trevor, Trevor,” said a familiar, grandmotherly voice tinged with regret. “I could not be more disappointed.” Trevor opened his eyes. Mrs. White stood above him wearing a lavender robe with lace embellishing the neck. She shook her head sadly. “I had so hoped to spare you from the horrors of my dark side.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Costly Clues

  Nate knew that without any more Shock Bits, he would get caught along with Trevor. Which would mean the teleidoscope would remain in the hands of Mrs. White and her sideshow henchmen. But if he managed to get away with the teleidoscope, he might be able to enlist help from Mr. Stott in defeating Mrs. White. Maybe they could even use the teleidoscope as leverage to bargain for Trevor’s release.

  Mind racing, Nate dashed down the stairs. In his peripheral vision, he had seen the blond dwarf streak across the room. Like the big man full of jelly, the little man had some sort of magical power. Nate debated whether he should try to get out through the mirror, through a door, or through a window. He could recall no windows in the workroom, just as he had seen no windows in the apartment. Wasn’t there a back door someplace?

  In answer to his question, he saw the back door at the bottom of the staircase, opposite the door to the workroom. Skipping the last five steps, Nate landed heavily, grabbed the knob, and found it locked. The door had a deadbolt that he could release, but the knob had a keyhole. He rammed the door with his shoulder but it felt sturdy, and he heard footfalls at the top of the stairs, so Nate switched tactics and charged through the door into the dark workroom. Running blindly with his free hand extended, he glanced off tables and stumbled over stools.

  In the midst of his panic, he tried to strategize. Mr. Stott had warned them to exit through the mirror. The old magician had expressed concern about the spells that guarded the lair. But wasn’t that just if they were trying to be stealthy? Would those spells actually harm him on his way out, or simply raise an alarm? His understanding was that the spells were in place mainly to prevent people from entering.

  Could the dwarf use Mirror Mints? What about the big guy? Where was the dude with the huge birthmark? Was he a roommate as well? Nate realized that if he could just get through the mirror, even if somebody chased him, he could run as far as he wanted and get lost in the darkness. Then he could eventually exit through some random mirror anywhere in town. If he escaped the store through a window or a door, he might get zapped by some spell, and the dwarf might follow him out onto the street. He had seen the dwarf fly at Trevor only out of the corner of his eye, but had glimpsed enough to know that the little guy had some sort of ability to attack at great speed.

  The flood of thoughts and questions was interrupted when Nate heard the door open behind him. Fluorescent lights flickered on overhead. Focused on reaching the mirror, Nate burst through the batwing doors and vaulted the counter, holding the teleidosope high as he tumbled to the floor on the far side.

  Regaining his feet, Nate raced toward his destination. He fumbled in his pocket to find a Mirror Mint. Sliding to his knees at the table with the mirror underneath, Nate finally glanced back. He saw the dwarf perched atop the counter, holding a chair that he must have brought from the back room, his body crouched and contorted. Shimmering light gathered around him.

  Worried that the dwarf was about to take flight, Nate fell flat. A fraction of a second later, the dwarf uncoiled in a ferocious motion, hurling the chair with superhuman force. The chair flew too quickly to be anything but a blur, but Nate felt it whoosh past above him, and heard it collide violently with the table. The table flipped end over end, and the chair sailed though one of the plate-glass windows facing Main Street. As the window disintegrated, there came a tremendous blast of sound, like the horn of an ocean liner, accompanied by a fiery surge of light and heat.

  The way the table had landed, Nate could see that the mirror on the underside had shattered. The gaping window through which the chair had passed was his next best option. Nate sprinted in a crouch, trading the Mirror Mint in his hand for a Moon Rock. He leaped through the huge square hole where the window had been, broken glass clinking and crunching underfoot.

  Slipping the Moon Rock into his mouth, gripping the teleidoscope tightly, Nate jumped away from the candy shop with all of his might. His feet had hardly left the sidewalk when a powerful force slammed into him from behind, carrying him across the street low and fast, two bodies spiraling through the air until the dwarf hit the ground first and they rolled to a stop on the narrow front lawn of an antique store.

  Thrashing to escape the dwarf’s tenacious embrace, Nate heard a car screech to a halt nearby, and headlights suddenly glared at him. He heard a car door slam, and the dwarf released him. Having somehow maintained the teleidoscope in his grasp, Nate jumped, gliding considerably higher than the eaves of the antique store roof before curving back down to land on the shingles. Just before he landed, he heard a gunshot.

  Head down, Nate took a low hop to the far side of the roof. Adding to the momentum of the gentle hop, he leaped hard, ascending over the small parking lot behind the antique store and rustling through leaves and twigs before grasping a half-glimpsed limb. Pulling on the l
imb and letting go, he drifted to a higher branch. Pushing off, he turned and wrapped his arms around the trunk of the tall tree. Not wanting to gain more altitude, Nate kicked off the trunk, floating sideways through a gap in the branches, arcing down and alighting on the weedy back lawn of a one-story home. His next jump put him on the roof of the house, and the next deposited him on the sidewalk out front.

  He was now on Greenway, not far from the street where Mr. Stott lived. After the disaster at the candy shop, he wanted to deliver the teleidoscope immediately to the old magician. Nate cleared the street with a single spring, then glided up to a roof. Most of the houses in this neighborhood were one-story, and the yards were narrow, so Nate was able to jump from rooftop to rooftop most of the way to 1512 Limerick Court.

  From the roof of a home neighboring Mr. Stott’s, Nate leapt to the roof of the free-standing garage, then into the front yard, landing beside a turtle fashioned out of wire. All of the windows were dark. Nate spat out the Moon Rock and rushed over to the window that had been lit the first time they had visited Mr. Stott. He beat on the glass. A moment later a light came on and the blinds parted, revealing a pair of eyes. Nate held up the teleidoscope.