The Mapmaker and the Ghost(20)

There was a glint of anger in the boy’s eyes before they darkened again. He slackened his hold on Goldenrod’s arm and yelled, “Toe Jam!” into the cavern.

Within a few seconds, there were more scuffling footsteps, and the staircase produced the dirty, ruffled frame of Randy.

“Yes, Spitbubble?”

So Randy is … Toe Jam? Goldenrod thought.

“This girl here tells us that she followed you all the way to Headquarters.”

Toe Jam’s jaw dropped as he saw Goldenrod. “Mold-and-rot…,” his voice trailed.

“Explain yourself,” Spitbubble said.

“I … I don’t know how she got here,” Toe Jam said.

“Where were you when you saw him?” Spitbubble asked Goldenrod.

“Due west,” Goldenrod grumbled.

“Are you trying to be funny?” Spitbubble asked.

“No. If I was, I wouldn’t be doing a very good job.”

“Shut up and answer the question. I don’t need any extra words out of you,” Spitbubble said.

“I was answering your question. I was due west.” Goldenrod looked at the blank faces staring at her and sighed, pointing to where she had come from. “Over there, by a bunch of bushes with red berries.”

Spitbubble rounded on Toe Jam. “Well?”

“I don’t know … maybe she means where I was meeting Toulouse,” he said.

“Toe Jam, I believe this is the second time I’ve warned you about bringing your butler into these woods.” He exaggerated the word butler in the same slow, dangerous way he had exaggerated Meriwether.

“How else am I supposed to get the stuff from him?” Toe Jam muttered.

“Oh, I don’t know. By going to the house where you live and he works and where no one will suspect you hanging around. The fact that you actually have a house you can go to and get that junk from is the only use I have for you.” Spitbubble didn’t blink once, penetrating Toe Jam with his glare. “And, if you can’t even do that right, well …”

“That junk seems to pay for a lot of things,” Toe Jam mumbled.

“It pays for the privilege of letting you hang out with us. You don’t want to do it anymore, no problem. The exit is that way … due west,” Spitbubble pointed.

That shut Toe Jam up. For a minute, Spitbubble continued to glare at him. And then he turned away as if nothing had happened. He handed Goldenrod’s arm to Jonas.

“Take her down and keep her with her brother, Brains. Until I figure out how to clean up your mess.”



Birch had stopped crying, but he couldn’t stop sniffling. He needed to figure out how to get himself out of there.

Maybe he could tackle—SNIFF—Lint with one of those video-game moves he had practiced—SNIFF—all summer. Then he’d run upstairs screaming an ear-shattering battle cry, take down the rest of the kids in one truly spectacular round housekick, and run back home and into his bed right before his mother—SNIFF—would be coming in with a hot bowl of soup.

As he was visualizing this awesome feat, he heard more footsteps on the stairs.

“We got another one,” he heard Brains say.

Lint looked up. “What’s she doing here?”

“Guard her, Lint. This is no joke. Spitbubble’s in a foul mood.”

And then Birch saw her—she was being led into the room by Brains. Birch’s face broke into a wide grin.

Goldenrod loosened herself from Brains’s grasp and hurried over to him. Birch immediately threw himself at her, holding on to her in a tight hug.

Goldenrod patted him on the head. Birch was so happy and relieved to see her that it was a few moments before he began to realize that if Goldenrod were in here—who on earth was out there to rescue him?





14

THE LAB


“So you know that girl, right, Brains? You know her family?” Spitbubble said as Brains came back up the stairs. He was leaning against the cavern wall, arms folded in front of his thin chest.

“Yeah…,” Brains trailed off.

“Good. Think of a way of scaring her and that little brat into never breathing a word of this to anyone. I expect you to make good on your nickname.” Spitbubble straightened himself out. “And make sure everything is set for tomorrow,” he said casually as he strolled out of the cavern.

Easy for him to say, Brains thought to himself about a half hour later as he kicked a pebble moodily and walked into the bright sunshine. He was always the one that was coming up with the plans. Then again, who else would do it? he thought as he looked to the clearing by the side of the cavern and saw No-Bone, Toe Jam, and Snotshot arguing while they were trying to make up teams for a game of tug-of-war. Toe Jam had created a nice mud pit with the help of the hose that Brains had hooked up a few weeks ago and they were using an old, frayed rope that one of them had picked up from somewhere. It was getting hard to keep track of who was contributing what to their inventory.

Toe Jam spotted him as he walked toward them.

“You’re on my team, Brains.”

Brains shook his head. “I can’t. I have work to do for Spitbubble.”

“In your super secret lab, I bet,” Snotshot snorted.

“It’s not super secret. It’s just super secret to you because you don’t understand what I’m doing,” Brains said coolly.