probably understand,” Elliot said. “We can’t trust the Pixies to poof me there, but you could do it, right?”
Mr. Willimaker’s eyes widened. “No, sir. I wouldn’t dare, not even to rescue Patches. My magic isn’t strong enough to poof a human anywhere. I’d probably get your feet into the Underworld and your head and maybe a few of your fingers, but I’d lose the rest of your body. It’d be very hard to rescue Patches with only half of your body.”
“Oh,” Elliot said. His parents might understand if he had to go to the Underworld to rescue Patches. They definitely would not understand his having only half a body. “Then we have to think of a different way to save her.”
“We will.” Mr. Willimaker cocked his head. “Where is your crown, Your Highness?”
Elliot turned to where Cole and Kyle were now at the side of the house. “Wait one minute.”
He ran to his brothers. They had dug a ditch in a circle, filled it with water, and then had put several ants on the dirt island in the middle.
“What are you doing?” Elliot asked.
“We want to see what the ants will do,” Cole said. “They want to get off the island but can’t swim.”
“Oh. Where’s the cr—I mean, the bracelet you took from my room? You didn’t leave it in there, did you?”
“No,” Kyle said. “Cole, you had it last. Where’d you put it?”
“I left it in the kitchen. But next time I looked it wasn’t there. It’s pretty shiny. Maybe Uncle Rufus got it.”
Elliot ran back and knelt beside Mr. Willimaker. “My uncle won’t lose it or anything. He’ll just carry it around for a while, and then I can get it back later.”
Mr. Willimaker’s face went green, like the color of canned peas. Not a good color for either peas or Brownies. “Do you know why your room disappeared?”
“Because the Goblins knew it was my room. They hoped I’d be in it.”
“A king always wears his crown, and if your crown was in your room, then they thought you were in your room. Wherever your crown is now, when the Goblins try again, they’ll think they’re attacking you.”
Elliot stood. “What will they do to the crown?”
Mr. Willimaker shook his head. “Goblins don’t make things disappear. They blow them up.”
Elliot began racing toward his house. “I’ve got to find Uncle Rufus!”
But there was no time. He fell onto the grass as a rush of wind knocked him flat on his back. It was followed by a boom. Then his entire house exploded.
It took a moment before Elliot realized exactly what had happened. He stood on shaking legs and staggered toward what just ten seconds ago had been his home. Now it was rubble, a heap of wood and broken pipes and chunks of furniture. Shreds of paper and fabric still rained from the sky like confetti, and there was an eerie silence, as if even the breeze didn’t dare make any sound.
In the center of where the Penster home had stood, the bathtub had somehow survived. On top of it was a mattress that had fallen from the second story.
“No, no,” Elliot whispered. He sat on what had once been a toilet and buried his face in his hands. The kitchen must have blown this way. He saw pieces of his mother’s dishes, half of a chair, and Reed’s large jar with his collection of leftover pickle relish in it. A crack ran down the jar where it had landed, but amazingly it hadn’t shattered.
If he could have chosen the two things to have left in this world, it probably wouldn’t have been a bathtub and a jar of pickle relish. But his luck seemed to work that way lately.
Then he heard a sound. It was muffled, but someone was speaking nearby. “Hello? Hello?”
It came from the bathtub. Elliot pushed the mattress off the top and then smiled with relief. Uncle Rufus was lying inside it, fully clothed, with the crown between his fingers.
“I didn’t realize we had such a lovely view of the sky from the bathroom,” Rufus said.
“The house blew up,” Elliot told him.
“Oh.”
Mr. Willimaker’s eyes widened. “No, sir. I wouldn’t dare, not even to rescue Patches. My magic isn’t strong enough to poof a human anywhere. I’d probably get your feet into the Underworld and your head and maybe a few of your fingers, but I’d lose the rest of your body. It’d be very hard to rescue Patches with only half of your body.”
“Oh,” Elliot said. His parents might understand if he had to go to the Underworld to rescue Patches. They definitely would not understand his having only half a body. “Then we have to think of a different way to save her.”
“We will.” Mr. Willimaker cocked his head. “Where is your crown, Your Highness?”
Elliot turned to where Cole and Kyle were now at the side of the house. “Wait one minute.”
He ran to his brothers. They had dug a ditch in a circle, filled it with water, and then had put several ants on the dirt island in the middle.
“What are you doing?” Elliot asked.
“We want to see what the ants will do,” Cole said. “They want to get off the island but can’t swim.”
“Oh. Where’s the cr—I mean, the bracelet you took from my room? You didn’t leave it in there, did you?”
“No,” Kyle said. “Cole, you had it last. Where’d you put it?”
“I left it in the kitchen. But next time I looked it wasn’t there. It’s pretty shiny. Maybe Uncle Rufus got it.”
Elliot ran back and knelt beside Mr. Willimaker. “My uncle won’t lose it or anything. He’ll just carry it around for a while, and then I can get it back later.”
Mr. Willimaker’s face went green, like the color of canned peas. Not a good color for either peas or Brownies. “Do you know why your room disappeared?”
“Because the Goblins knew it was my room. They hoped I’d be in it.”
“A king always wears his crown, and if your crown was in your room, then they thought you were in your room. Wherever your crown is now, when the Goblins try again, they’ll think they’re attacking you.”
Elliot stood. “What will they do to the crown?”
Mr. Willimaker shook his head. “Goblins don’t make things disappear. They blow them up.”
Elliot began racing toward his house. “I’ve got to find Uncle Rufus!”
But there was no time. He fell onto the grass as a rush of wind knocked him flat on his back. It was followed by a boom. Then his entire house exploded.
It took a moment before Elliot realized exactly what had happened. He stood on shaking legs and staggered toward what just ten seconds ago had been his home. Now it was rubble, a heap of wood and broken pipes and chunks of furniture. Shreds of paper and fabric still rained from the sky like confetti, and there was an eerie silence, as if even the breeze didn’t dare make any sound.
In the center of where the Penster home had stood, the bathtub had somehow survived. On top of it was a mattress that had fallen from the second story.
“No, no,” Elliot whispered. He sat on what had once been a toilet and buried his face in his hands. The kitchen must have blown this way. He saw pieces of his mother’s dishes, half of a chair, and Reed’s large jar with his collection of leftover pickle relish in it. A crack ran down the jar where it had landed, but amazingly it hadn’t shattered.
If he could have chosen the two things to have left in this world, it probably wouldn’t have been a bathtub and a jar of pickle relish. But his luck seemed to work that way lately.
Then he heard a sound. It was muffled, but someone was speaking nearby. “Hello? Hello?”
It came from the bathtub. Elliot pushed the mattress off the top and then smiled with relief. Uncle Rufus was lying inside it, fully clothed, with the crown between his fingers.
“I didn’t realize we had such a lovely view of the sky from the bathroom,” Rufus said.
“The house blew up,” Elliot told him.
“Oh.”
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