The Key by Michael Grant

longer see the tops of everyone’s heads.
    â€œThat is a very impressive app,” Mom said. The golem noticed something about Mom then: her eyes weren’t quite looking at him, they were looking past him. And her voice had a dreamy sound to it. Maybe she was tired.
    The golem took the phone out of his mouth and held it out to Risky. He noticed that the only thing on the screen was a standard text box. It read, “Shrink back to your normal size.”
    Just that. Just words.
    â€œNo, keep that phone, please,” Risky said. “Be sure to answer it if it ever rings.” Then she leaned in close and said, “And don’t forget to do whatever the voice tells you to do.” She winked at him and then, rather belatedly, said, “I’d love to stay to dinner. In fact, I can’t wait to get to know your whole family.”
    Later, the golem sent Mack a text.
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    I’m not a big boy anymore but I am perfectly normal.
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    He had used the phone to take a picture of Risky sitting at the family dinner table. Risky had been charming throughout dinner (chicken piccata with spaghettini) and very pleasant to the golem.
    â€œHow do I send you a picture?” he texted. Because as charming as the red-haired girl was, there was something about her....
    In fact, he’d had to take two pictures to get one good one. The first one had some kind of problem: it showed Mom and Dad and, seated between them, something very like a monster. A monster wearing a linen business suit and just-this-side-of-Gaga high heels.
    The second shot, the one Risky had noticed him taking, showed her as she was. (Or so the golem thought.) But it all added to the golem’s sense that something here was off. Weird. (And he had a very high threshold for weird.)
    He wanted to send Mack that second picture. Maybe the first one, too.
    â€œPicture?” Mack texted back. “No pictures, I’m homesick enough. Have to get on a plane to Paris. I’ll be off-line anyway.”
    Risky had watched the golem thumb in a text and then heard the chime for incoming text.
    â€œIs that your girlfriend?” she asked, and Mom and Dad laughed a bit too loudly.
    â€œNo, it’s just … just …” Why was it so hard to tell her a simple lie? Mack had told him many times never to reveal the truth of who he was and what was going on. He had explained the concept of lying to the golem. And the golem mostly understood, in his own way.
    But there was something about her eyes.... When she stared at him, he almost couldn’t look away.
    â€œTell me,” Risky said, in a voice that was like a loud whisper for his ears only. As if her lips were pressed against his ear. And yet, the golem noticed, her lips never actually moved.
    â€œIt’s a friend,” the golem said. “On his way to Paris.”
    â€œParis?” Risky said, and nodded as if to herself. “Of course.”
    Five minutes later Mom looked over at the place where Risky had been. She frowned at the plate of food, untouched. “Why on earth is there a plate of food there?”
    Dad frowned as well. “I have no idea.”
    And that was when the golem really started to worry.

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Fifteen
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    F ortunately, in addition to being excellent inventors, the Scots know a bit about medicine, too. The captain was patched up. Dietmar and Sylvie were treated for their not-too-serious injuries.
    Cost: 0.00 GBP. 23
    It was still two days before the Magnifica managed to leave Scotland.
    They drove away toward the nearest airport—in Inverness—destroying quite a number of mailboxes, lampposts, fences, and, of course, side mirrors en route.
    The road they drove on was already lined with signs and billboards hastily altered to take advantage of the new situation. Everywhere they looked, “Search for the Loch Ness Monster!” had already been changed to “See the Loch Ness Duck!”
    The traffic heading toward the loch