Chapter 13

chapter thirteen They are suddenly falling. Quint's incantation has blasted a blazing column of energy straight up and down, evaporating everything above and below, including the floor beneath their feet, the floor beneath that, and the floor beneath that. Even as he plummets, Quint looks up. Above him, he sees the swirling aftermath of his conjuration. The beam nicked the Drakkor, and the monster is howling, reeling back, black oil-goop spraying from a fresh wound in its chest. And below them, Quint sees stuffed animals and plushies. Thousands of them appear to be rising up at rocket-speed as the heroes plunge through the final, just-exploded hole. "BRACE YOURSELVES!" Dirk shouts, grabbing Drooler tight, just as— FWOOOMP!

got real lucky with the landing spot. Pizza, pizza. It's good for you. This little possum puppet is so cute. I'm keeping it. "I believe we fell all the way to the basement," Quint says, squinting. "Guess they store their merchandise here." They can't see much beyond the peak of the mountainous stuffie pile—everything beyond is shrouded in shadow. "Bravo, Quint! Rescued our rear ends, ya did!" Galamelon cheers. "You used your conjuring powers

in our moment of need—and saved me!" Dirk and Kimmy shoot Galamelon a glare. "I mean... us!" Galamelon says, sinking into the stuffie pile and getting cozy. "Oh, my mentorship is going marvelously. I should open a school after this. A whole franchise of schools! And hang big paintings of me in the hallways!" Quint avoids his friend's gaze. "We got lucky. I was trying to perform a Level Two Kinetic Dynamo conjuration. That was like Level Five! We're fortunate to be alive. Las Guy, you're rocking this. Also. I'm pretty sure you vaporize that weird Queene. High fives, anyone? High five, what? What vaporized a vaporized Skelton?" Everyone glances around. Galamelon's right: Skaelka is nowhere to be seen. Dirk lifts a large stuffed armadillo, searches underneath, then swallows hard. Drooler meeps sadly. "You sure did!" Galamelon says, again going for the high five. "Big-time vaporization!" "NO," Dirk insists, shooting Galamelon a hard look. "Quint, you did not vaporize Skaelka. You just blew a bunch of holes through the building." "But if you did vaporize her," Kimmy says. "I bet you at least vaporized her in one piece." "That's not how vaporization works!" Quint cries. "If she's been vaporized, she's... vapor! Particles. Billions of—"

my limb cleaver will turn you to vapers. I take the stars. Yay, she's not particles. Yes, no "Quick, Quint!" Dirk cries. "Turn on your flashlight! We gotta find a way outta here before she chops us up!" "Nope. No way," Quint says. "Absolutely not." Despite Skaelka screaming toward them, Quint doesn't move. "The flashlight is affixed to my conjurer's cane, and I'm never using the cane again. Galamelon, from here on out... "Quint heaves a heavy sigh. "I think it'd be best if you handle all the conjuring." Galamelon lets out an awkward laugh-cough. "Oh, I'm flattered, but I couldn't possibly—" SCRAAAPE! Everyone freezes. Even Skaelka. "You all heard that, right?" Kimmy whispers. "That heebie-jeebie noise that sounded like razor- sharp claws raking across cold steel?" CREEEAK!

"It sounds like... shop class," Dirk says softly. "Like twisting metal." They peer into the darkness, holding their breath. Slowly, a sliver of light appears. "I think the light is coming from a door," Quint whispers. "To the outside." "And by the looks of it, something is trying to come inside," Dirk says. There is another scrape, another creak, and then a booming CRUNCH! The door is being bent, scrunched, and pulled by whatever something is on the other side. "Ready yourselves," Dirk says, reaching for his sword. "That includes you, Drooler." Drooler bravely meeps in reply. The door cracks wider, jostling the stuffie mountain and causing everyone to sink down a few inches. "I bet it's bandits," Galamelon says. "Or trolls. No, bandit-trolls. Who wants to bet? If it's bandit-trolls, I win. If it's anything else, you win. So, you can guess anything: rabid donkeys, tap-dancing fish, could even be—" "CAROL!" Kimmy exclaims. The door cracks open farther, revealing the young carapace.

"Nevermind, bet's off, you all took too long," Galamelon quickly says. Carol's claws finish prying the door off its hinges —and the door pops open fully. Suddenly, the mountain of merchandise is loosened, causing a tidal wave of stuffies that whisks the heroes out of the basement, down a loading ramp, toward daylight— Whoosh