by Kat Shepherd
“What’ll we do if the portal doesn’t close?” Clio asked.
Tanya shrugged. “Experiments fail all the time.” She strapped a headlamp over her short hair and switched it on. “Then we’ll just have to go back to the drawing board, I guess.”
“That’s comforting.” Maggie shivered and zipped up her pink fleece jacket.
Rebecca patted Maggie on the back. “Don’t worry; we did a lot of research to figure this out. It’s gonna work,” she said confidently. She shined her flashlight into the open base of the tree. “Look, see? The bowl’s still in there, right where we left it.”
Clio hovered behind Rebecca’s shoulder and peered into the dark hollow. “The portal only opens during the full moon, right? So say we did the ceremony wrong and didn’t actually seal it forever. Has anyone thought about the possibility that if we messed up and it does still open tonight, then something might come out of it?”
“Well, not until just now, I hadn’t!” Maggie looked nervously at the tree’s trunk and picked up a stick and waved it menacingly, taking a few experimental swipes in the air.
“Good idea,” Clio said. She and Rebecca found the biggest sticks they could and held them at the ready. Maggie nudged Tanya.
“Don’t look at me,” Tanya said. “I’m not fighting anything.” She held up two fingers in a peace sign.
“Useless,” Maggie sighed, throwing an arm around Tanya. Tanya grinned and rested her head on Maggie’s shoulder.
The heavens deepened to a rich blue, and a few stars began to twinkle. “Look, there’s Jupiter,” Tanya said, pointing to a bright point of light near the horizon.
Soon the full moon rose into the velvet night sky, and Clio could feel the tension build in the clearing around them, like the forest itself was holding its breath.
Clio jumped when she heard a crash in the brush behind her. She turned and rushed toward the sound. “Who’s there?”
“Clio! We need to stay together!” Maggie cried.
Clio saw a hunched, monkeylike shape dart in the shadows beyond the clearing. “There’s something out there!” Heart pounding, she pushed aside the thick branches and pressed deeper into the trees. The figure hopped away, just at the edge of her vision. Clio left the light of the clearing and stepped into the darkness of the forest beyond.
Suddenly, something grabbed her arm and yanked her backward. Clio screamed.
“Relax! It’s just me!” Maggie said, dropping Clio’s arm. “Where were you going?”
“I saw something in the woods. It wasn’t an animal, and it wasn’t a person. It felt … wrong.”
Maggie dragged Clio back toward the lanterns. “So you were just going to follow it by yourself in the dark? Great idea.” She picked a twig from Clio’s twist-out.
“But what if it’s connected to the portal?” Clio asked, straining to see where the creature had gone.
Tanya called out to them, her voice thick with tension. “Guys, you better come back. I think something’s about to happen!”
Maggie and Clio hurried back to find Rebecca and Tanya standing at the edge of the brook. Rebecca’s flashlight beam shone steadily on the bowl inside the tree’s hollow, and Tanya snapped photos with the digital camera that hung from a strap around her neck. She dropped the camera, checked her thermometer, and grabbed her notebook. “Temperature is dropping steadily. Current read: seven-point-two degrees Celsius and falling rapidly … four-point-eight and still falling … two-point-three … zero and still falling…”
Clio rubbed one arm with her free hand, trying to stay warm. Her breath came out in clouds. Her teeth chattered. She felt Maggie grab her arm, her fingers squeezing her tightly.
She heard a cracking sound and looked down to see a thin layer of ice forming over the brook. Before her eyes, the ice turned white and thickened until the brook was frozen through.
With an earsplitting crack the ice shattered, cleaving the bowl in two. An unearthly howl echoed through the darkness, and then all sound stopped. There was a hiss of steam, and a feathery plume of smoke curled up from the bowl and disappeared into the sky.
Clio stopped shivering, and her grip loosened on her flashlight. The brook burbled along, with no sign of the ice that had covered it moments before. The night sounds of the forest began again. Tanya checked her thermometer. “Ten-point-six degrees Celsius and rising,” she noted.
Maggie dropped her hand from Clio’s arm. “So is it sealed forever? Did we do it?”
Rebecca swept the flashlight beam deeper into the tree’s hollow. “Jeez, I hope so! That would be an awful lot of drama if it hadn’t.”
Tanya slipped out of her black Vans and peeled off her socks. “Well, there’s only one way to find out.” She stepped into the frigid water and gasped. “Still really cold!” The other girls stripped off their shoes and socks and picked their way into the brook.
They crowded into the tree’s hollow. Rebecca’s flashlight illuminated the jagged crack that divided the bowl into two halves, the salt and blood now a dried red crust that rimmed the edges. “Whoa,” Maggie whispered. She pointed to the horseshoe. It had also cracked in half. “I don’t know what it was, but something definitely happened.”
Tanya bent over her notebook, making a quick sketch. “If the portal hasn’t sealed, we should be able to walk through it like the last full moon.” She slipped around the bowl and reached for the far wall of the tree. “It’s solid,” she said. “I’m touching the inside of the tree. Here, come check.”
The other girls squeezed around the bowl and pushed against the back wall of the hollow. “It’s definitely closed for good,” Rebecca said. Clio shut her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief.
Maggie brushed her hands together. “Looks like our work here is done!” She ducked out of the tree’s opening and splashed her way to the brook’s edge. “Back to Creature Features for some hot cocoa and a good scary movie?”
Rebecca moaned. “Not another scary movie. You know I can’t stand them!”
“Oh, you love it!” Maggie said, tying her rainbow shoelaces in a quick double knot.
Clio helped Tanya pack up the remaining gear while Rebecca scanned the rest of the clearing. “Looks like we’ve got everything.”
“Not everything,” Maggie said. “We forgot the bowl!” She moved toward the hollow to retrieve it, but Clio grabbed her arm.
“Let’s leave the bowl in there.”
Maggie turned to look at Clio, a questioning look on her face. “Why?”
Clio’s eyes scoured the darkness beyond the clearing.
“Just in case.”
CHAPTER
8
BACK AT THE costume shop, Kawanna scanned the bookshelves behind the counter, her orange-and-black-striped nails running along the spines of the vast array of DVD cases. “How about House on Haunted Hill? It’s a classic, and part of it was filmed at an old mansion not too far from where I used to live in LA.”
“Were you in this one, too, Kawanna?” Maggie asked. Clio’s aunt used to work as an actress in Hollywood. Her days doing bit parts in B horror movies began a lifelong collection of monster-movie memorabilia and a deep love for anything scary.
“How old do you think I am, Maggie?” Kawanna clutched at her heart in mock dismay. “This was way before my time, thank you very much!” Maggie laughed, and Kawanna waved the DVD case above her head. “Now, if everyone’s finally ready”—her eyes grew wide—“let the terror begin!” The girls hooted and pumped their fists, but Rebecca’s cheer was tepid. Noticing the nervous expression on Rebecca’s face, Kawanna gave her a reassuring pat. “Don’t worry, Rebecca. It’s an old movie, and the special effects aren’t particularly good. I doubt you’ll find it very scary.” Rebecca smiled gratefully.
Maggie scoffed. “Becks, a few weeks ago we faced down real monsters, and you’re still afraid of an old horror movie? It’s not even in color!”
“I’m not afraid. I just don’t like the jump-scares. And the gory parts.”
&nbs
p; “You’ve just described pretty much everything that makes a good horror movie.”
“I know!” Rebecca said. “That’s why I don’t like them.”
“And that’s exactly why I do!” Maggie replied.
“To each their own,” Kawanna said, and winked at Rebecca.
Clio, dressed in a vintage I ♥ NY T-shirt and Eiffel Tower–print pajama bottoms, took the DVD case from her aunt and skimmed the summary on the back. “Oh, I remember this one. I was terrified of that dancing skeleton when I was little!”
“Hey!” Maggie cried. “No spoilers!”
Clio grinned as she popped the DVD into the player and turned on the TV that Kawanna had mounted to the wall in one corner of the shop. “No spoilers, huh? Well, then I guess I won’t tell you about the part where—”
“Noooo!” Maggie shrieked. She covered her ears. “La la la la la!”
“Oh, don’t tease her, Clio,” Kawanna chided gently. She swept her blue-and-red-print silk robe behind her and stepped into her fuzzy green monster slippers before walking down the back hallway to her office.
“You’re telling me not to tease? That’s a good one, Auntie!” Clio called after her. She joined Maggie and Rebecca in setting up an array of beanbag chairs, sleeping bags, and air mattresses for the sleepover in the store. Kawanna returned to the front of the shop, her arms full of blue-and-gold-brocade throw pillows. Maggie looked up to thank her and saw a leering werewolf standing over her instead. She screamed.
Kawanna laughed and pulled off the snarling rubber mask she had slipped on. “Sorry, Maggie. But you did say you love jump-scares!”
“Gee, Maggie, we faced down real monsters, so what are you so afraid of?” Rebecca said, laughing.
Maggie blushed and playfully shoved her friend’s shoulder as Rebecca high-fived Kawanna.
Clio shook her head with a wry grin. “Seriously, Auntie. I wonder why I ever allow you around any of my friends.” From pretending to be a zombie to putting fake worms in the girls’ snacks, Clio’s aunt’s pranks were legendary.
Tanya, dressed in a faded black Doctor Who T-shirt and flannel pajama pants patterned with flying saucers, carried a huge bowl of buttery popcorn in from the kitchen of Kawanna’s little apartment behind the store. She set it down in the middle of the floor, and the other girls eagerly dived in.
“Hey,” Tanya said. “Save some for the movie.” She glanced up at the movie’s menu screen on the TV. “Ugh, ghosts. Do you guys really believe in them?”
Maggie grabbed another handful of popcorn, dripping butter onto her leopard-print pajamas. “Um, hello? Were we not just at the same supernatural portal?”
“The Night Queen is one thing, but ghosts are something different,” Tanya said. “Scientifically speaking, creatures certainly exist in other worlds, with connecting portals. Quantum physics calls it the multiverse. But ghosts? Spirits of people who died, hanging around and haunting things? I mean, why would they do that?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Clio said. “That doesn’t seem so weird to me.” Thoughts of the Lees’ house flickered through her mind. Could it be a ghost that had locked her in the pantry and messed up the kitchen table? She pushed the thought away. Nobody locked me in the pantry; I just got stuck. And I was distracted when I set the table.
Rebecca shrugged out of her blue-gray cashmere robe and pushed up the sleeves of her cupcake-print pajama top. “My Nai Nai always said we should treat ghosts as a fact of life. They’re just there. You don’t bother them, and they don’t bother you, like a spider in the corner of the bathroom.”
“Um. No,” Maggie said. “If there’s a spider in my bathroom, that sucker’s going down.”
“Murderer,” Tanya muttered, with a smile on her face.
Maggie grinned back and pointed to herself. “Me? A spider murderer?” She nodded. “Yeah, I can definitely live with that label.”
“But what about ghosts?” Rebecca asked.
“Are you asking if I would kill a ghost?” Maggie said.
“Not kill it,” Rebecca said. “But say there was a ghost in your house. Would you be scared, would you try to make friends with it, or would you just ignore it and hope it goes away?”
Maggie thought for a moment. “I bet I’d be scared at first, but I don’t know … if it didn’t do anything too weird, I’d probably make friends with it if I could. Or at least try to find out what it wanted.”
Clio untacked the Snout of This World flyer from the bulletin board on the wall and carried it over to the group. “There’s a kid at school who says he talks to them.”
Maggie snatched the flyer. “No way! Who?” She shoved the popcorn bowl aside and bent over the mini-poster. Tanya and Rebecca crowded in to see.
“Remember that quiet kid from the cafeteria? The one with the blue streak in his hair? His great-great-grandmother was a medium. She held séances and stuff.” Clio quickly filled them in on everything Ethan had told her and Kawanna.
“I remember him. He’s kind of cute!” Maggie looked more closely at Ethan’s artwork. “I can’t decide if that’s really cool or really creepy.”
Tanya idly scanned the flyer. “Most of those old mediums were proven frauds. Once when I visited my grandparents in LA, they took me to a fake séance at the Magic Castle, this cool magicians’ club, and we got to see all the tricks they used to make people think there were ghosts in the room. It was fun.”
“Don’t tell that to Ethan. He’s pretty sure he inherited her powers.”
“But did he?” Maggie asked. “I mean, did you see him do it?”
“What, like we were gonna ask him to do a demonstration?” Clio asked. She tacked the flyer back to the bulletin board.
Maggie sighed. “I guess not, but do you think he really can?”
Clio shrugged. “I don’t know. What do you think, Auntie?”
Kawanna laid a silver tray on the counter and scooped tiny marshmallows into mugs of cocoa. “Well, I’ve been in enough scary movies to know how easy it is to fake a ghost; Tanya’s certainly right about that. But I’ve heard plenty of stories over the years from good friends who think they’ve seen one. It’s enough to make me wonder, anyway.” She passed colorful mugs of cocoa around to the girls and picked up the last one, which was shaped like the head of Frankenstein’s monster.
“Maybe you could invite Ethan to do a séance in the shop,” Maggie suggested. She looked around the room. “I bet a lot of kids at school would be pretty into it. It could bring in some new business.”
Rebecca folded her arms. “Come on, Mags. We just finished solving one supernatural problem. Do we really need to go looking for more?”
“Good point,” Maggie said, remembering their last adventure. She shivered. “Maybe we should just enjoy the land of the living for a while.”
“Don’t get too excited about the land of the living just yet,” Kawanna said, “because we’re about to meet a whole bunch of ghosts!” She flicked off the lights and started the movie.
The picture went black, and a woman’s scream reverberated through the speakers. Kawanna squeezed in with the girls, and they huddled around the popcorn as the spooky opening scene filled the screen.
CHAPTER
9
CLIO TUCKED MINNA into bed with her favorite dinosaur toy and gave her a final good-night hug. The little girl’s hearing aids were already put away, so Clio leaned down to speak carefully and clearly into Minna’s ear. “I had so much fun with you tonight!”
“Me, too.” Minna smiled sleepily and snuggled deeper into the covers. Clio switched off the light and walked toward the stairs, half wishing she had some excuse to keep Minna up past her bedtime. Minna’s sunny personality made it easy for Clio to relax and forget her fears about the old mansion, but as soon as she tucked the little girl in, Clio felt her senses heighten. Every tiny creak of the hallway floor felt as loud as a firecracker, and she had to will herself not to look behind her.
Clio passed the closed doors along the hallway an
d took in the dark green wallpaper patterned with twisting black vines. She loved antiques and old buildings, but the Plunkett Mansion felt oppressive, as though a dark cloud hung over the house, soaking into its walls.
Only Minna’s room felt like a bright ray of sunshine, with its pastel blue paint and cheerful elephant-patterned curtains. What a relief it would be when the whole house was finished and the rest of the rooms were just as inviting.
Back downstairs, Clio washed the dishes and looked out into the backyard. It had always been too late in the day to play with Minna outside, but she knew that the property stretched back for several acres. At the bottom of the sloping lawn, she could see the moon reflecting on a small pond and the pale outline of a crumbling stone pavilion. If she came to babysit during the day, it might be fun to take Minna down to the pond for a picnic. It would be good to spend time outside and enjoy some fresh air and sunshine, away from the house’s shadow. Just imagining it made Clio feel more relaxed, and she made a mental note to ask Mrs. Lee about it.
Clio had just dried her hands when Wesley trotted over, a ratty old tennis ball in his mouth. “Do you want to play fetch?” she asked. His tail wagged, and he dropped the ball at her feet. She tossed it in the air, and he jumped up and caught it. “Good boy!” Clio cheered.
He dropped it at her feet again. This time she tossed it farther, and it sailed out of the kitchen and into the dark dining room. Wesley scampered off to chase it, but he stopped at the edge of the dining room doorway. He stiffened, hackles rising, his tail now a rigid straight line. He backed away from the room, a low growl in his throat.
He shook himself and sneezed before slinking over to Clio and leaning against her legs. He was panting, his chest heaving. “What’s wrong, sweet boy?” She crouched down and put an arm around him, and he curled into her, whining.
She stood up. “Let’s go see what spooked you.” Even when Clio had been scared herself, Wesley had always remained unperturbed. She found herself holding her breath as she walked to the dining room doorway and flicked on the dim overhead light. She was relieved to find nothing amiss. “See? There’s nothing for either of us to be scared of.” She turned back to the dog, but he had retreated to his bed in the TV room.
