by Kat Shepherd
Back at the fountain, Ethan knelt on the ground near the stone. He looked around at the others. “Are you ready?”
Rebecca tentatively raised her hand. “Just out of curiosity, how many times have you done this before?”
“Um, yeah. Never,” Ethan answered.
Rebecca sighed. “I figured.”
Ethan placed the bone on the stone tile. “Harriet’s bone should work like a magnet, drawing Eudora back to us.” He opened a tiny jar filled with glittering particles.
“What’s that?” Tanya asked.
“Gold dust,” Ethan said. “Iron creates barriers; gold opens them.”
Tanya nodded and bent over her notebook. “Interesting,” she muttered to herself. “Both elements.”
Ethan sprinkled a tiny amount of gold dust onto the bone. “Here we go,” he said. The girls bent closer, crowding in to see what would happen.
A delicate wisp of dark smoke curled up from the stone, and Ethan and the girls pressed forward eagerly. The smoke dissipated, and the stone looked the same as before. “Aw, man,” Maggie said. “That was lame.” Just then, a sliver of cold silver made a tiny opening in the stone, forming a pinpoint of light on the domed ceiling of the folly.
“It’s working!” Clio said. The hole in the stone grew larger. Wind blew through the folly, scattering dead leaves across the cracked marble floor. From out of the opening came a pale, twisting wraith that stretched and curled like a ribbon, twining searchingly around each of the girls. It touched Clio with an icy cold tendril, and she could smell the faint scent of roses.
“Is that Eudora?” Rebecca whispered. “What’s she doing?”
“I think she’s looking for Harriet,” Clio whispered back. The wraith weaved itself around the statue and up to the ceiling, moving as fluidly as a jellyfish. Clio watched it, entranced. “I never thought it would be so beautiful,” she said softly.
Ethan grinned. “Nobody ever does.”
Rebecca cleared her throat and pointed at the spirit hole. “Uh, is that supposed to happen?” The hole had widened, and the light beaming out of it had turned from a serene silver to an ominous dark gray. The light seemed almost alive, forming itself into tentacles that reached out searchingly. The kids recoiled, scuttling backward to get out of the light’s reach.
“Hey, Ethan, anytime you want to close that spirit hole would probably be a good idea,” Tanya said.
Ethan frantically flipped through the pages of his book. “I’m working on it. I just have to figure out how.” The dark light slithered from the hole, the thin streams crawling across the ground like snakes.
“Wait, you opened a spirit hole you don’t know how to close?” Tanya asked, her voice tight with tension.
“We were in a rush!” Ethan shot back. “You’re the ones who told me to go with my gut!”
“You guys! A little less arguing and a little more spirit-hole-closing, if you don’t mind? This thing is starting to look pretty nasty.” Maggie pointed at the twisting tendrils that stretched almost to her feet.
“Maggie!” Rebecca shouted. “What’s wrong with you?” Maggie’s fingers were a glowing silver, and so was a spot on her leopard-print leggings. The glowing spots acted as beacons, pulling the dark tentacles to her.
“There must be spirit paste on her!” Ethan cried. “It’s drawing the Nightmare Realm straight to her!”
“I—I didn’t want to wash my hands in the gross pond water!” Maggie exclaimed.
“So you wiped your ghost-summoning mud hands on your leggings?” Rebecca asked incredulously.
The hole widened, and a skeletal, rotting arm punched through and reached blindly for Maggie. “It’s a lusus!” Tanya shouted. She lunged forward and whacked at the arm with her notebook. A second arm burst through the spirit hole with a crunching sound. Skeletal fingers stretched out, the bony fingertips just grazing Maggie’s toe. Maggie kicked it away and tried to scramble backward, but the glowing spots held her in place.
“Help me!” Maggie cried. The rotting hand closed tightly around her ankle, and Maggie screamed as it dragged her closer to the hole. Tanya kicked and punched at the arm, but her blows were no match for the lusus’s sinewy strength.
The second arm swiped at Maggie’s other foot, and Rebecca grabbed a loose chunk of marble and slammed it down on the bony fingers. Two of the fingers broke into splinters that wriggled on the stone like beached fish, but the hand kept reaching for Maggie.
Maggie clawed at the slippery marble tile as the arm pulled her almost to the hole’s edge. She kicked at the arm with her free foot, trying desperately to break its hold. The other hand clamped onto her shoe, and the toe of her sneaker disappeared into the hole. “They’re going to pull her in!” Clio shouted. She ran over to Maggie and grabbed her under the arms, pulling against the lusus with all her might. Maggie screamed as she was stretched between the lusus and her friends. “Ethan!” Clio cried. “We have to close it!”
“I’m trying!” Ethan leafed through his book and pulled jars out of his backpack, scanning the label of each before tossing it aside.
Tanya and Rebecca beat against the lusus’s arms, and Clio pulled with as much strength as she could muster, but it wasn’t enough. Maggie was being drawn steadily deeper into the spirit hole.
CHAPTER
25
“ETHAN!” CLIO CRIED. “Come help me! I can’t hold her much longer!” Ethan jumped up and grabbed Maggie’s hands. They dug in their heels and pulled. Maggie shrieked as one leg disappeared farther into the hole. “Rebecca! Tanya! We’re going to lose her! Grab hold!”
The other girls grabbed onto her legs, trying to find traction on the slippery, moss-covered tiles. “Don’t let me go!” Maggie begged, tears streaming down her face.
Clio gritted her teeth. “If you go, we all go.” She felt her heels skid across the stones as the whole group was dragged closer.
Rebecca kicked at the arms, and her blue suede sneaker slipped off her foot and disappeared into the hole. “We’re not going to make it!”
“Don’t give up yet!” Clio locked her legs under Maggie’s arms and used her free hand to scrabble for Ethan’s kit.
“What are you doing?” Tanya shouted.
“Looking for the iron!”
“The what?”
Clio tipped the bag over, scattering bottles everywhere. “Gold opens, iron closes, remember?” She grabbed a bottle of red powder and smashed it open on the arms grabbing Maggie. There was a flash like a lightning bolt, and the arms disappeared down the hole, breaking their hold. The hole began to shrink, and the group scrambled backward. The wraith circled anxiously above, twisting around the fountain statue like a cat.
Just as the hole was about to close completely, a rotting arm burst back through and gripped the hole’s edge, pushing against it. A shoulder emerged as a lusus tried to force its way through before the opening could seal. “It’s blocking the hole so it can’t close!” Tanya cried.
“We need something to destroy the lusus!” Ethan shouted. Tanya scrabbled through the jars and tossed them to Ethan. He unscrewed the lid of one and flung the contents onto the emerging lusus. It sizzled when it touched the creature’s skin, but the monster kept coming.
“It’s not working!” Clio picked up a chunk of marble and hurled it at the lusus. She looked up at the ghost. “Eudora, help us!”
Above them the wraith tugged at the fountain’s statue, rocking it against the foundation. Stone scraped and water sloshed over the sides of the catch basin, but the fountain stayed secure.
“What is she doing?” Rebecca cried.
The lusus’s head was just emerging through the edge of the hole. Red, swollen eyes seeped black liquid down its sunken face, and its broken teeth were sharp and jagged.
Just then, a second wraith flew from the direction of the house. It joined the first, wrapping itself around the statue. The statue rocked harder, and water splashed against the pavement, soaking the girls’ and Ethan’s feet.
With a final shr
iek of stone on stone, the statue teetered forward and toppled. The heavy marble collapsed onto the lusus, crushing the creature into a fine black powder. The dark light faded away, and a cloud of marble dust filled the air. When it cleared, the spirit hole was gone.
Above them, the two wraiths twined around each other. A gentle breeze lifted the hair from Clio’s neck, and the faint scent of roses permeated the air. “Thank you for saving us,” Clio whispered. She felt the cool touch of the wraiths’ fingers stroking her cheek before the spirits swooped out of the folly and pooled like a fog on the dew-covered grass. The fog formed into the image of two little girls. Clio could just make out the outline of their matching white dresses and the bows in their hair. Hand in hand, the spirits drifted across the lawn and disappeared quietly into the pond.
Harriet and Eudora were finally going home.
CHAPTER
26
WESLEY WAS WAITING at the back door when Clio and her friends returned to the house. Ethan stroked the hound’s shaggy head. Horrible was nowhere to be seen. “It figures that little monster took off when we could have used his help the most,” Maggie grumbled as they walked into the kitchen.
“You can’t hold that against him,” Rebecca said. “Remember what happened to him the last time he was anywhere near the Nightmare Realm? He served and trusted the Night Queen, and she almost turned him to ashes.”
“Besides, he helped us find the bone and shut down that awful clock.” Clio walked into the front hall and stood in front of the grandfather clock. It was silent now, and she was amazed at how much more at ease she felt without its incessant ticking.
“What is the deal with this thing, anyway?” Tanya asked, running her hands over the wood. “Was it another portal?”
Clio shook her head. “I felt all around the inside, and there was no opening. I don’t know what it was for, but whatever it is, it won’t work now.”
The group finished clearing up the dining room. “It’s a miracle nothing was broken,” Rebecca remarked as she hung the last picture back on the wall.
“Tell me about it,” Ethan said. “I’d hate to be fired from my first dogsitting gig at the Lees’ for trashing their house.”
Ethan and the girls took one last look around, making sure everything was put away and settled before Clio texted her aunt to pick them up. Upstairs in the twins’ bedroom, Clio noticed the two dolls were no longer displayed on separate beds. Instead, they sat side by side on Eudora’s bed. Clio smiled and closed the bedroom door.
As she finished her final walk-through of the rooms, Clio noticed a lightness in the air that she hadn’t felt before. It was as though the dark cloud that had always hung over the house had finally faded away. She closed the front door behind her and joined her friends on the front porch. Rebecca touched her shoulder. “Everything okay?” Kawanna’s headlights lit up the yard as she pulled into the driveway.
Clio nodded. “I think the Lees are going to be very happy here.”
* * *
Kawanna had just turned the CLOSED sign on the shop’s front door when Clio and her friends arrived the following evening. “Just in time,” Kawanna said. “I haven’t had a moment to sit down all day!”
“I’ll make the tea this time,” Rebecca offered, and disappeared down the hall to the tiny apartment behind the shop. Kawanna flopped onto the sagging leather armchair in her office, and the girls squeezed in on the loveseat. Ethan perched on the arm.
Rebecca came back with the silver tea tray and passed around cups of herbal tea. She held up hers for a toast. “Here’s to the end of another supernatural adventure. May it be our last!” The others laughed and clinked their cups together for the toast.
Ethan sipped shyly from his cup. “Thanks for inviting me,” he said.
“Are you kidding? We couldn’t have done it without you!” Tanya said.
Maggie gave Ethan a playful nudge with her foot. “Did you hear that? Sounds like you finally won her over!” She leaned in closer, lowering her voice. “And believe me, that’s not easy to do.”
“I heard that!” Tanya said, and threw her balled-up napkin at Maggie.
“What’s the news on the fellowship project?” Kawanna asked Clio. “It was due today, wasn’t it?”
“I turned it in first thing this morning,” Clio answered.
“Nice!” Kawanna high-fived her niece.
“I bet your project was amazing,” Ethan said. “I just know you’re going to get it!”
The room grew quiet as everyone sipped their tea. “Last night was a pretty close call,” Clio said softly. She rested her head on Kawanna’s shoulder.
Kawanna stroked her niece’s hair. “But you made it through,” she said. “You looked out for each other, and you kept your heads. I couldn’t be prouder of all of you.”
Maggie squeezed Clio’s hand. “And don’t forget Harriet and Eudora, Clio. Those girls waited more than a century for someone to come along and help them, and you’re the one who did it. I saw how scared you were, but you didn’t let that stop you. You didn’t let it stop you from saving me, either.” She looked at the ground shyly. “Any of you. You guys saved my life.”
Tanya put her arm around Maggie and gave her a squeeze. “We never would have let you go. No matter what. That’s what friends do.”
* * *
Mrs. Lee waved as the junk haulers pulled out of the driveway. She turned to her husband. “It’s a shame we had to get rid of that old clock. It was such a beautiful piece. Maybe we should have tried harder to have it fixed.”
Mr. Lee smiled at his wife. “Don’t worry. We’ll find something new. We have a lifetime together to fill this house with beautiful pieces.” He looked down at his daughter. “Isn’t that right, Minna?”
Minna hugged her father’s legs and ran into the kitchen. She came back with Wesley following behind, his skinny tail wagging. Minna held up a painting of a bright blue lumpy blob. “We could hang this up!”
Her parents smiled at each other over her head. “I think that’s just perfect,” Mr. Lee said, and tacked it to the wall.
Mrs. Lee handed Minna a pen and picked her up. “Every artist has to sign her work,” she said. Minna carefully printed her name in the corner of the painting.
“That makes it official,” Mr. Lee said. “Our first piece in the Lee family art collection!”
The family’s laughter could be heard through the open windows as the last rays of the setting sun slipped past the house and spread across the pond, bathing it with gold. The water was tranquil and clear, the secrets beneath its surface finally at peace.
EPILOGUE
THE FULL MOON rose over the mounds of the dump, casting in stark silhouette the rusting refrigerators, broken chairs, and occasional raccoon scavenging for a free meal. Near the top of one pile, a grandfather clock rose up at an odd angle like a crooked tombstone. The clock was streaked with grime, its walnut cabinet gouged and chipped from the weeks it had spent in the elements. A midnight-blue woman’s face peered from behind the tarnished silver faceplate, the hands frozen in place, eternally 11:59. A family of rats sniffed at the cabinet, searching in vain for a forgotten crumb.
Silver moonlight spilled across the clock’s surface, and the minute hand shot forward to meet the hour hand. The rats scattered.
In heavy, sonorous tones, the clock began to chime.
Acknowledgments
I turned this book in a week before we left Los Angeles to begin a new adventure in Minneapolis. I do not recommend moving while on deadline, and I am very grateful for the many people who helped me keep my misery to a minimum. First and foremost, thanks especially to my mom for all the phone calls and words of encouragement as I frantically tried to get everything done. And to the Fanuele family, who did everything from stocking our fridge to lending us their car, thank you for making our adopted city feel like home from the very first moment. As always, big love to my infinitely wise and patient agent, Erin Murphy, and to everyone in the EMLA family fo
r your ongoing kindness and support. To my editor, Erin Stein, and to Natalie Sousa, Nicole Otto, Kelsey Marrujo, and the whole Imprint team, thank you for your continued work with me to bring this series to readers. Seeing kids’ excitement about these books is pretty much the greatest feeling ever. And Rayanne Vieira, you absolutely nailed this one; hearts came out of my eyes when I saw the cover. Kirsten Cappy and Curious City continue to amaze and inspire me with new ways to connect to readers, and I can’t say enough great things about Jenny Medford and Websy Daisy for the beautiful babysittingnightmares.com website.
To all the teachers, librarians, and fellow authors who have so warmly embraced this series, you have my deepest admiration and gratitude. Thank you for all you do to champion books and promote joyful literacy. Eternal thanks to Elly Swartz, who continues to be an incredible inspiration and a cherished friend. I couldn’t have done any of this without you. Special thanks to Jarrett Lerner and Jennifer Chambliss-Bertman for your support and wonderful words of encouragement. Much love also to Angela Whited and Lily Tschudi-Campbell at Red Balloon Bookshop in St. Paul for your boldly bookish awesomeness. Huge hugs to Debbi Michiko-Florence and Sarah Azibo for the e-mails and phone calls, especially in those times when I was feeling really stuck and lost. Kathi and Jeffrey, Sharon and Adam, Tiffany, Julie, Jessica, Joeanna, Lara, Anne and Chris, Barky, and Alex at the Copper Still made it really hard to leave Los Angeles, as did Robin Savoian and all the folks at the LA Zoo. And to the powerful ladies of LA LAW, how I adore, admire, and miss each and every one of you. To the Sheps/Knudys, the Gam Fam, and the Hubens, I’m so lucky to have you in my cheering section. And I reserve my deepest gratitude for my very best and favorite, Eddie Gamarra. It is always for you, my love.
About the Author
