Bad Yeti by Carrie Harris Page A

wearing the elf ears, but I’d take what I could get. She’d eventually realize we were meant to be. I just knew it.
    “Of course your cousin can come!” I said. “Girls attend free because we’re all horndogs.” She laughed, and I did too, even though it wasn’t exactly a joke. “But she’ll either have to drive or deal with the humiliation of being dropped off by my dad.”
    “Oh, I don’t want to inconvenience you. I can drop her off on my way to the cheer tournament. I signed up for the LARP club mailing list, so I’ve got the address.”
    I couldn’t help it. I dropped to one knee and clapped a fist to my chest. “Marry me.”
    She giggled, then extended a hand and pulled me to my feet. “I’m too young to get married. Ask me again in about ten years.”
    “I’ll set up an email reminder.”
    Kiki threw her head back and laughed, full out this time. I wanted to kiss her so bad right then, but I restrained myself. Good thing too, because suddenly Kate came hustling down the hallway toward us. Her braid whacked me in the face as she shrugged on her coat.
    “You guys ready to go?” she asked. “I don’t want to be late.”
    I didn’t answer, just shouldered my backpack and opened the door for Kiki.
    “My hero,” she said, and my knees went weak.
    #
    The next few days dragged, but finally I found myself dressed in full
Dragons of Roargan Kross
gear—dark orange tunic with the Nightdark Clan crest on the sleeves, green hosen, pointed ears spirit-gummed to the sides of my head, and a leather bandolier wrapped around my torso—walking down the path that led to Kiawaukee Boy Scout camp.
    The camp wasn’t particularly huge. There was a main lodge with a cafeteria, ten or socabins, a couple of bathhouses with running water, a campsite, and a pond. About a bajillion acres of local wildlife preserve dwarfed the camp. A few paths snaked through the preserve, but at least once a year, some idiot left the designated path and got lost. The camp would have been the perfect place for a real-life adventure if only I’d known how to do half the things my character did.
    I dropped my gear off on an empty bunk at the White Arrow cabin and headed toward the clearing where we’d be playing. The sun was shining, and I didn’t even need a jacket over my tunic. We’d had a warm spell over the past couple of days, which was lucky timing on our part. At last year’s LARP, we’d had to wear winter coats.
    When I reached the path to Nightdark Camp, the sentry intercepted me before I’d taken more than two steps. I didn’t panic when a shadowy figure swung out of a tree on a rope we’d strung up out of sight, a sword held at the ready. And when I say “sword,” I mean PVC pipe wrapped in foam and secured with duct tape. But it was so much more than that.
    The sentry on duty was a goblin fighter-thief named Goldnar. He wasn’t very smart IRL, and putting on a costume didn’t help.
    “Password,” he barked, his beaked latex nose quivering. He didn’t even seem to have noticed that he was accosting the lord of Nightdark Clan, but that didn’t surprise me. You’d think I would have chosen a more capable sentry, but I’d picked him on purpose. Our enemies would be so busy scoffing at him that they wouldn’t notice the archers I’d stationed in the trees.
    “Death to noobs,” I whispered, using the elaborate hand signals that would identify me as a member of Nightdark Clan. You know, just in case our mortal enemies, the Clan of Apples, had learned how to clone people in the last couple of weeks.
    “Oh.” Goldnar looked at me finally and dropped into a hasty bow. “I didn’t recognize you, sir. Right this way.” He bowed again and gestured for me to follow him down the path into the camp. I stayed close on his heels, scanning the trees for my sniper nests. I couldn’t see them, but I knew they were there, and I felt a surge of pride. If the Apples came looking for trouble, they’d get some.
    When we