“Lennie, stop instigating!” her dad scolded. “Michael, stop being instigated! Both of you—save something for Poppop!”
Lennie glared at Michael, and he grinned at her as he took another bite of sisig. “Do you like seafood?” He stuck out his tongue, displaying a mouth full of chewed up pork. “SEE FOOD!”
“Gross,” Lennie said.
“He’s running late,” her dad said, looking at his watch.
Her mom rubbed her temple. “He better not have gone hippo hopping again—”
“Hippo hopping?” Lennie said.
“When Poppop goes jumping on the backs of hippos. Very dangerous.”
“I want to hippo hop!” Michael said.
“You do NOT!” their mom said firmly. “I can’t tell you how many times Poppop’s eluded authorities at safari sites and wildlife preservation centers.”
“So . . . how does he escape?” Michael said carefully. Lennie was sure that he was taking mental notes on how to make a clean getaway.
“When he has his magic staff, your Poppop is invincible.” She sighed. “I know that pesky staff helps amplify his powers, but it’s more trouble than it’s worth. Someone ought to smack him over the head with it every once in a while.”
Lennie and Michael both laughed, though Lennie wasn’t entirely sure whether her mom was joking.
“Don’t worry,” Lennie’s dad said, bringing the last of the side dishes to the table. “He’s supposed to arrive with Estella, right? She would never let him go hippo hopping. I’m sure he’s just running late in Netherly. I bet he, uh, realized he forgot to pack socks.”
“Or maybe he got stuck to the Jelly Floor!” Michael said, lighting up. “Mom, tell us again about the Jelly Floor!”
Their mom smiled. “You kids have heard that story hundreds of times.”
“AGAIN! AGAIN!” Lennie and Michael both chanted. Lennie pounded her fists on the table, and Michael clanged his silverware against his glass—until their dad swooped in and stole his silverware right out of his hands before Michael could break yet another glass.
“Once upon a time,” Mom said spookily, flickering invisible and uninvisible just for fun, which was always how she started a story about growing up in the Pomporromp Castle. Lennie clapped for her mom’s performance. “When your aunt Tracy, uncle Philip #2, and I were verrrrrrryyyyy little, we snuck peanut butter and jelly sandwiches out of the kitchen and bewitched them with your grandfather’s magical staff. And the sandwiches started growing . . . and growing . . .”
“And growing!” Lennie echoed.
“And growing!” Michael added.
“Until . . .”
“KABOOM!” all four Mercados said at the same time. They all knew the story by heart—Lennie knew it so well she felt like she had actually been there.
“The sandwiches exploded!” Mom continued. “Jelly was everywhere, high and low. Aunt Tracy, Uncle Philip #2, and I tried to clean it, and undo whatever spell we accidentally set off, but nothing worked. From that day on, the twenty-second story was floor-to-ceiling covered in jelly. So sticky that you can get stuck for days. So sticky that the jelly glued to the castle, and not even magic can get it unstuck.”
“I love that story,” Lennie breathed. She could listen to her mom’s tales about Netherly every second of every minute of every hour of every day of every week of every month of every year. Netherly just sounded so cool. A whole separate realm where powerful wizards lived in harmony. A secret world where wizards were able to freely practice magic without fear of being discovered. Where every wizarding family had a castle and an estate. It was just too awesome to imagine. “Hey,” Lennie said, not for the first time that week, “when are we going to visit Netherly?”
“Again,” their dad said, “whenever your Poppop stops inviting himself over here and starts inviting us over there.”
“I would like to go back home soon,” their mom said. “It’s been too long.”
Michael tugged on the tablecloth. “Mom, Mom, Mom! Tell us another story about Netherly!”
“Do the ghoul story!”
“No,” Michael said, “the moon room story—”
“No,” Lennie said, louder, “you already requested the Jelly Floor story! It’s my turn!”
“Kids, stop fighting—”
Ding-dong! came the sound of the doorbell.
“I’LL GET IT!” Lennie yelled, but Michael was closer and he started running. Lennie slid on her socks and Michael put out a foot to trip her, invisibling his leg just a fraction too late. She hopped over his invisible foot and gave him a very visible elbow in the gut.
“NO FAIR!” Michael said, but he was laughing.
They reached the door at the same time and opened it, fully expecting to greet Poppop Pomporromp with a big hug.
Only . . . it wasn’t Poppop Pomporromp.
It was someone who was about to change everything.
A Special Invitation
At the door, there was a cat.
But no ordinary cat.
It was a cat wearing a bow tie and a monocle. And it was floating in midair.
Lennie’s jaw dropped. She looked around the road for her poppop—it would be his idea of a joke to hide in a bush somewhere and levitate a cat in front of the door to spook them.
“What are you looking at, girl?” the cat snapped.
Lennie jumped in surprise. “It can talk!”
“I’m not an it, I’m a him. And are you going to invite me in? Your manners are truly abysmal.” It—he—looked annoyed. Lennie thought cats pretty much always looked bothered, but this cat looked more bothered than any cat that Lennie had ever bothered to bother.
Besides a miserable expression, the cat had a black-and-white coat, which looked very much like a fur tuxedo. The red bow tie around its neck helped give the illusion that the cat was dressing up. It blinked up at Lennie with brilliant yellow eyes, one of which was hidden behind a monocle.
“You’re not Poppop! Where’s Poppop?” Michael asked.
“Your manners are equally awful. Also,” he said with a sniff, “though I shudder to suggest such a horrific thing, you could use a bath.”
From behind them, their mother darted up, her steps quickening as she saw who was standing—or floating—at the door.
“Fluffles?” Mom said in surprise. She snatched the cat and kissed him on the head, which the cat shook off. “What in the world are you doing here?”
“I prefer Sir Fluffington the Fourth, Stacey, for the last time,” the cat said, glowering at her. “I have been knighted by your father, and you disrespect my title. Now, are you going to let me in?!”
Her mom knew this strange, magic cat?
The cat floated to the kitchen, and Lennie, Michael, and Mom followed.
“This is my childhood cat! Fluffles—”
“SIR FLUFFINGTON THE FOURTH!” the cat hissed. “I come bearing a message of the utmost importance from the Prime Wizard Mortimer de Pomporromp!” Fluffles said majestically. “Wait . . . hold on.” He arched his back. “Wock! Wock! Wock! Wock! HNGUH!” And he expelled a giant pile of vomit on the kitchen floor. “A present for you,” Fluffles said with a small bow. “You’re welcome.”
Her mom side-eyed Lennie’s dad, which was her way of telling him to get a mop.
“What’s the important message?” Lennie asked.
“Mortimer’s not coming.”
“Yay!” Michael cheered.
“What?!” said her mother in a huff. “That’s just typical, isn’t it? Changing plans at the last minute.”
Fluffles held up a paw for silence. “He’s not coming to you . . . because you are going to him.”
Lennie stood up. Were they being invited to Netherly? To Poppop Pomporromp’s castle? To his world of magic?
Her mother folded her arms. “Why the change of plans?”
“Well,” Sir Fluffington the Fourth said, with an undeniable air of smugness. “The next Wizardmatch has officially begun.”
The word Wizardmatch meant nothing to Lennie, but instantly, her mother blanched and gripped her chair. Tight. And Dad had deep lines on his forehead.
“Well, that’s not the reaction I hoped for—I wanted cheers and whistles and maybe someone to pet me for eight hours.”
“What is Wizardmatch?” Lennie asked in almost a whisper.
“It’s a wizard dating website,” Michael said matter-of-factly.
Her mom swooped down and grabbed the cat by the scruff of his neck, dangling the animal like a shirt on a clothesline.
“No, Michael,” their mom said firmly, plopping the cat on her lap and petting him. “Before we talk about Wizardmatch, you kids have to understand something about Poppop. Something I’ve never told you.”
Lennie held her breath.
“My father—your grandfather—Poppop Pomporromp,” Mom said, “is a Prime Wizard.”
“We know that,” Lennie said.
“Duhhhhhhh,” Michael added.
“There is only one per wizarding family, and he has both power and duty—”
“Doodie!” Michael giggled.
Mom gave him a pointed stare. “This is serious. The Prime Wizard is the heir to the family’s powers and is the caretaker of the Pomporromp Castle in Netherly—”
“We know,” Lennie said.
“I know you know,” Mom said. “I’m trying to tell you what you don’t know: Prime Wizards aren’t born. They are selected.”
Selected? Lennie had always thought that Poppop had just been born lucky.
“When Poppop was your age, his only power was the ability to control small amounts of fire. But his powers were very limited, much like yours are.”
“So how did he get to be so strong?” Michael asked.
“Just listen,” Dad said. “Mom is trying to explain.”
Mom nodded at Dad before continuing. “Magic is in our genes. It gets passed down from generation to generation. So all of Poppop’s kids—my siblings and I—inherited a small piece of the Prime Wizard’s magic. And then I passed that piece of magic on to you. And then you’ll pass a sliver of magic on to your kids. And so on.”
“This is confusing!” Michael said.
“This is genetics,” Dad said.
“You both inherited my invisibility, and the chances are likely that your kids would have that same ability. But occasionally, a different power is awakened. Your children, for example, could have the power to make things fly, instead of invisibility. In simple terms: Most of your magic is sleeping. But whoever becomes the Prime Wizard gets all their magic woken up.”
“And,” Lennie asked carefully, “how do you become the Prime Wizard?”
“You have to win Wizardmatch.”
“But what is Wizardmatch?” Michael said.
“Only one person can be the Prime Wizard. When it’s time to choose a new one, the old one hosts a competition to select the next one,” their mom explained. “Wizardmatch tests magical ability, creativity, wit, and determination. If one of you were to win, not only would you be able to go invisible . . . you’d have ALL of Poppop’s powers.”
Lennie was smiling so hard her cheeks ached.
“So . . . whoever wins becomes the new poppop?” Michael asked. “I could totally do that. All I’d have to do is bathe in oatmeal and stick my dentures out at people.”
Lennie jumped to her feet. Tears were brimming in her eyes—joyful tears. Exultant tears. Jubilant, delighted, happy-beyond-happy tears. “This is literally my dream come true!” Lennie yelled. Her skin was tingling with excitement. “You know I’ve been practicing to increase my powers!”
“Of course we know! You’ve been ignoring your homework for magic practice, neneng,” her dad said with a smile.
“I could be the next Prime Wizard!”
“Well, hey!” Michael said, hands on his hips. “What about me?”
“One of us could be the next Prime Wizard,” she corrected herself. But inside, her heart was singing me, me, ME!
Mom frowned and shared a glance with their father across the table. Lennie didn’t understand . . . this seemed like good news! Get-up-and-dance-around-the-kitchen kind of news!
Dad cleared his throat. “Don’t you want to know how Poppop Pomporromp’s story ended?”
“We know how it ended,” Lennie said. “He won Wizardmatch!”
“In one way, yes. But in another way, he lost a lot,” Mom said. She frowned. “I don’t know all the details, but apparently, the last Wizardmatch competition shattered Poppop’s relationship with his siblings.”
“Wait, what?” Lennie said. She scoured her brain for any mention—any whisper—of Poppop’s siblings in one of her mom’s stories, but nothing was coming to mind. “Poppop doesn’t have siblings!”
Her mom stopped petting Fluffles for a moment. Fast as a snapping turtle, the cat turned and gave her hand a sharp bite. “OW!” Mom yelped. “What’d you do that for?!”
“That’s a love bite,” Fluffles said.
“I’m bleeding!”
“But he can’t have siblings,” Lennie said, shaking her head. “Do I know them?”
Their mom glared at the cat as she massaged her bitten hand. “Lennie, I don’t even know them. I didn’t even learn about them until I was a teenager. I don’t know what happened or why, but after your great-great-grandfather chose Poppop as the winner of Wizardmatch, Poppop never spoke to his sisters or brother again.”
“It’s the reason we never told you about Wizardmatch,” her father added. “We didn’t want you kids to feel competitive with each other. We’re a family—that means we’re all on the same team. Right?”
Michael stood up and put one foot on the kitchen chair. “I’m the team leader!”
“Feet off the furniture,” Dad said automatically.
“We’d be so proud if one of you became the Prime Wizard,” Mom said, “but it’s more important to Dad and me that you two are lifelong friends.”
The cat hopped off of her mom’s lap and circled the kitchen table. “That’s quite enough talking. I can’t just wait around all day for you to share your feelings and all that. I have things to do, you know—I have about five naps to take!” the cat complained. “So if you’ll listen, I’d like to share the rest of the Prime Wizard Mortimer de Pomporromp’s message now.”
The cat cleared his throat and hacked up a hairball in the process.
“Mortimer de Pomporromp is expecting you at the castle tomorrow morning.”
Lennie waited eagerly for the rest of the message, but Fluffles went back to grooming himself.
“That’s it?” her mom said.
“TA-DA,” Fluffles added. “What do you want . . . fireworks?”
“We get to go to Mom’s old house!” Lennie said to Michael, her heart fluttering. They were going to Poppop’s castle! In Netherly! For the first time! Ever!
“You’ll be living there for the summer,” Fluffles said. “All three of you.”
“But there are four of us,” Michael said.
“Regrettably,” Fluffles said, “only direct descendants of the Prime Wizard are invited to view Wizardmatch.”
Lennie and Michael looked at Dad, who was smiling sadly. “It’s okay,” he said slowly. “I don’t have that many vacation days anyway.”
“I’ll be there with you both,” their mom said firmly. “Walking you through the competition, every step of the way.”
“Don’t worry! You’re going to have such a good time, you won’t even notice I’m gone!” Their dad winked. “You two have to promise me you’ll have fun!”
Lennie looked at Michael and grinned. This was the best thing to happen to her summer—and maybe to h
er life. All her practicing was going to pay off. The competition would be, well, competitive, but she was going to make her dreams come true. Hope blazed within her, and she had a real fire in her belly, a fire as strong as the sun.
And like the sun, Lennie was going to shine.
Pomporromp Castle
Lennie couldn’t sleep. Her body was exhausted, but she couldn’t quiet her brain. Finally, finally, finally, she kept thinking. She was finally going to see Poppop’s castle up close—travel to Netherly, visit a world of wonder and secrets. She’d see magic. But not just see it—she’d acquire it. Become the next Prime Wizard. The first female Prime Wizard in a long, long, ridiculously long line of male Prime Wizards. And—as far as she knew—the first half-Filipino Prime Wizard.
In the dark, Lennie glanced at the shadowed outline of her suitcase in the corner of the room—she’d never packed so fast before. She was READY! She could go at a moment’s notice! She could run a marathon! She could do fifteen cartwheels in a row. . . .
Lennie didn’t remember dozing off, but suddenly a paw pressed on her face. It felt like a cat was dancing on her cheek. Actually, a cat was dancing on her cheek.
“What are you doing?”
“Hip-hop. Because it’s hip to hop out of bed,” the cat said. Lennie groaned in response. “Now I’m doing the cha-cha. Because you should feel fully cha-cha-charged. Now the waltz. Because it’s time to waltz on over to Pomporromp Castle.”
Lennie popped up so fast that Fluffles tumbled off the bed with a thump.
“OUCH!”
“Ooops!” Lennie said, putting on her glasses. She reached out to give Fluffles an apology back scratch, but he hissed at her and raced away.
Lennie got out of bed. It was still mostly dark in her room, but a tiny sliver of sunlight was reaching through her blinds. It was earlier than the time she got up for school. But she wasn’t even tired—just excited.
She dragged her suitcase out of her room. She grunted and panted as she lugged it to the top of the stairs and then paused for a minute to catch her breath. It was much heavier than she remembered, seeing as she only packed some clothes and books and her clarinet, even though she knew she wasn’t going to practice anything but magic. A trickle of sweat slid down her forehead.
Wizardmatch Page 2
