The Only Thing Worse Than Witches by Lauren Magaziner Page A

down Piggleswumpfer Court to Yammerstop Way. He saw the fish-and-chips restaurant down the hill, and his eye gravitated to the giant boulder behind the restaurant — the boulder that could only be seen at this street, at this angle. Witchling Two grabbed Rupert by the collar and pulled him behind a lamppost.
    Rupert gulped, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Why are we stopping?”
    Witchling Two shook her head and pointed at the boulder.
    â€œWhat is that?”
    â€œThat’s where we’re going,” she said. “The Council meeting starts in platypus minutes.”
    â€œDo you know where we’re going?”
    Witchling Two flicked her hand. “Easy, peasy. When a witch turns ten, she’s allowed to take a tour of the Council’s lair for the first time. I know exactly where they have their meeting and exactly where they keep a record of all the WHATs. That’s where we’re headed — to the Filing Room!”
    â€œRight,” Rupert nodded.
    â€œStay close to me,” Witchling Two said. “We can’t get separated.”
    â€œRight.”
    â€œAnd remember, don’t smell the flowers.”
    â€œRight, we’re in a rush.”
    â€œYes, but don’t smell the flowers.”
    â€œRight,” Rupert said. “Hurry. Yes. Got it.”
    â€œYes, but don’t smell the flowers.”
    Rupert stamped his foot. “Okay!” he said. “I got it already!”
    Witchling Two smiled. “Good!” she said, and then she ran.
    Rupert followed her as closely as he could, sticking to her back like sweat. Together, they ran down the rest of Yammerstop Way, past the row of coral houses. They ran past the playground (though Witchling Two stopped for a moment to put a handful of sand in a jar). They ran past the quilting store. They ran past Kaleigh’s purple house (to which Witchling Two squealed, “Ooh! I want a house like that one!”). They ran past the fish-and-chips restaurant. And then they ran immediately left, to a grassy area where the boulder sat.
    Rupert and Witchling Two panted for breath as they walked up to the giant rock. Witchling Two pressed her hand against the boulder, and it rolled aside, revealing an archway that led straight into the heart of the hill.
    With two enormous gulps, they walked inside, and the boulder rolled back into place behind them. Rupert stared — the passageway had linoleum floors, pictures of fuzzy, smiling baby animals on top of powder blue wallpaper, and bright lights.
    â€œThis is . . . not what I expected,” Rupert said.
    Witchling Two grabbed his hand, and they briskly jogged down the hallway, which led into a domed room with twelve golden chandeliers. Cawing blackbirds flew across the room then rested on the arms of the chandeliers, peering down at Rupert and Witchling Two with their beady eyes. Across the domed room were two carved doors and an archway. Rupert wandered to the center of the circular room, where he could hear the echoes of voices.
    â€œVe haven’t been ushering enough of ze tourists!” a gruff-sounding woman said. “Ze past month ’as been too slow on ze business.”
    â€œIt’s been fine,” a soft but firm voice said. Rupert recognized the voice — it was Nebby. “I’m more concerned about Justice Column Forty-six. The amendment for this article is still up for debate.”
    â€œPish posh!” said a nasally voice. “I’m more concerned about Witchling Two gallivanting with that human!”
    â€œThere is no reason to believe that she is still with the human,” Nebby said coldly.
    â€œWe caught her! We chased her! How can you deny this?”
    â€œThat was one time. There is no evidence that indicates she’s still with the boy, and now you’re spreading rumors and lies.”
    There was a hissing sound, then a gavel, then cries of
Order! Order!
    Witchling Two put a hand on