Chapter 20

chapter twenty

I jam a sweaty sock in Alfred's mouth so no one gets bit, and we run, run, run. We don't stop running until we get back to Big Mama. It's nearly dawn when Dirk gets us home to the tree house. We stumble out of the truck and collapse in the grass: pained, tired, terrified. I'm relieved to be home. But I'm NOT relieved knowing that our time on Earth—the time of Earth —is going to be very, very, very short if we don't act quickly. And by act, I of course mean act like awesome, fist-flinging, sword-swinging heroes. I climb up into the tree house. Inside, I slip the key into the snack lockbox. The rattling sound echoes in the morning quiet. I open it and stare down at the bestiary. What have I done? Frantic, I flip open the bestiary and begin tearing at the pages, trying to pry the Essence loose, trying to rip it to shreds. But it doesn't work—instead, I feel something like electricity shoot through me and I leap back. Quint comes rushing in behind me, reminding me there's no time for feeling sorry, no time for regrets,

no time for anything but action—and maybe, hopefully, a chocolate chip mini-muffin or two. We have to destroy the beastiery so Thrall can't use it to open the door and bring Razak into this world. What if it's like a Lord of the Rings thing like the book can't be destroyed? "Lord of the Rings, Jack? That isn't real," June says as she comes through the door. "That's a fantasy novel!" "Um. Did you not just see the giant talking tree and the monster servant?!" I exclaim. "It couldn't have been any more Lord of the Rings-y if there

were CGI orcs running around and white-bearded Magneto wizards!" June nods. "Yup. Yup. Fair point." Dirk comes in behind June. He rips the bestiary from my hand. "I will punch the book into nothing!" he roars. After, like, the nineteenth punch, Dirk collapses. His knuckles are bright red. "That didn't work."

I leap up onto the poker table. I grip the Louisville Slicer and bring it crashing down. It slams into the book—but I take the brunt of the blow. The tip of the blade splinters and I'm thrown backward, off the table. June looks to Quint. "I think we need more firepower." "On it," Quint replies.

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