Chapter 16

chapter sixteen I immediately realize where Drooler is going—and why. A group of guards are gathered around what appears to be a giant ball of squirming hair. They tear off pieces in wads, shoving them into their fang-filled mouths. Bits fall to the ground—and Drooler wanders that way. "I think he's just hungry. Hey, what do you feed him anyway?" I ask, realizing I've never seen Drooler actually eat. Dirk frowns. "Umm..." "Dude, do you not feed Drooler?" June asks. "He liked that spicy dough—" Dirk starts, before— "GET A LOAD OF THIS LITTLE BUGGER!" a guard suddenly shouts. "No, no, no!" Dirk says, inhaling sharply. "They're gonna beat him with pillowcases full of soap!" But the evil monster jailers mostly just seem intrigued. One rips out a wad of hair and tosses it to Drooler, like some grandpa feeding stale bread to pigeons at the park. Drooler gulps it down.

"Guys," June says, realizing. "This is just the distraction we needed!" "Drooler is not a distraction!" Dirk says. "Hey," I say. "When opportunity knocks, you gotta answer." Dirk glares at us all for a long moment, then growls, "Fine. Just be quick. If those jerks touch one drop of slime on Drooler's head, I can't be held responsible for what happens next."

Quint grins. "In that case, it is time I unveil..." he starts, reaching into his backpack for a big reveal. "The HAMMOCK HARNESS!" June's lasso-line can lower me down so I can access the director. Aium Dirk anchors the line. Yeah, fine, whatever. Can we just get on with it? Jewellers mingling with evil. Okay, first love all of this. Second, I'm going with you. "It's really only designed for one..." Quint says. But I gesture to the guards below. "Who knows how long Drooler's hairwad-slurping antics are gonna keep those dudes busy. If anything goes wrong, you'll be dangling like a fish on a hook—alone."

Quint relents. Moments later, we're both crammed into the hammock harness while June and Dirk lower us down. But I'm quickly realizing I should have listened to Quint because— The harness flips, spinning a dozen times, then— I might barf. Gee, if only someone had said this was built for one, Craning my neck, I'm just barely able to see the Directarium. It looks like an arcade machine made out of Jell-O and peanut shells.

Little nodules—that look unnervingly like belly buttons—cover its display screen. I shudder a little when Quint pokes one without hesitation. He taps the Maparatus, and a short dongle arm extends. He presses the dongle against the Directarium's access port, frowns, flips it over, tries again, frowns again. No dice. He flips it once more— and the dongle slides in. "Always on the third try," he mutters. The Directarium flashes, then begins whirring as diagrams flash by at top speed. Quint's got this covered, so I twist my head. I spot two gangly guards posing with Drooler. A squat guard tries to get into the picture—but they shove him away. "Speed it up, Quint," I whisper. "This could go south any second." "Retrieving the full map of the fortress now," Quint replies. There's a whirring sound as the Directarium transfers the information into the Maparatus. It only takes a few minutes—but it feels like an eternity. Thankfully—Drooler keeps the guards busy, hammin' it up for the crowd. At last, the Maparatus beeps again—low and long. "Finished!" Quint says. Finally, I think. Now let's get outta here.

I flash Dirk the "pull us up, now" signal—but Dirk doesn't see me. He's watching Drooler. And at that moment, many things go wrong at once... Drooler meeps—but it's not his usual meep. It's loud and scared and confused. I turn—and gasp. "Those guards! They're playing... keep-away! With Drooler!" Dirk lets go of the line—and without him anchoring it, June has no choice but to release us.