Elliot and the Pixie Plot (3 page)

Elliot tilted his head. “Huh?”

The werewolf leaned in closer. “I’m so evil that my analogies don’t even have to make sense. So I win the bet. Never trust anything that can change its shape.”

Elliot shrugged. “In my world, the only thing I can think of that changes is a butterfly. It starts as a caterpillar, and then it changes to a butterfly. I trust butterflies. They’d never hurt me. I don’t think you would either.”

The werewolf raised a claw and growled so loudly that the branches of the tree behind Elliot trembled. Elliot stumbled a few steps backward and said, “Look, if you want to talk to me, then just do it as yourself.”

“There is no myself,” the werewolf said. “I am a Shapeshifter. I am whatever form I take at the moment.”

“So this is your scary form?” Elliot asked.

The werewolf laughed, which sounded more like a pre-hunt howl. Then he asked, “Do you want to be scared?”

Elliot didn’t, but it was clearly a rhetorical question. The werewolf wasn’t looking for an answer. It retreated into the shadow of a tree and took a deep breath; then its height shrunk by a foot or two. The werewolf’s fur blackened to become more like a body of smoke and fire than of flesh and bones. Elliot could feel the heat from the black fire, but there was no light, just the bitter smell of burning. A long, black cloak hung around the creature’s shoulders, and when Elliot glanced down, he saw that the creature was only barely touching the ground.

The creature’s voice was like a whisper Elliot heard in his head, but not through his ears. It ran a shiver up Elliot’s spine as the creature said, “Now I am a Shadow Man. I am your worst nightmare.”

Dear Reader, this may be a good time to think about your worst nightmare. Is it one where you are being chased down a very steep hill by a million hungry white bunny rabbits and you are holding what appears to be the last carrot on earth? Or am I the only one having that dream?

Elliot doesn’t remember most of his dreams. However, he felt that if he had dreamt of his Brownie friend turning into a goat, changing to a werewolf, evolving into a Shadow Man, and threatening to do something horrible to him if he didn’t release Grissel, who would then turn around and do something horrible to the Brownies, he would certainly remember such a dream. So this was probably not his
worst
nightmare.

It was a pretty scary daymare though, if such a thing existed.

The Shadow Man stared down at Elliot, who felt beads of hot sweat line his forehead. Something inside Elliot stopped working. Something important, like his heart. This was nothing like being scared to death by the Goblins. It was worse. He stumbled backward, tripping on a root and falling to the ground.

“Is this what you are?” Elliot asked, not sure what he was seeing.

The creature’s laugh sounded like the powerful hiss of a steam engine pulling into a train station. “Shadow Men are servants of the evil Demon Kovol. Fear them, Elliot, and hope you never cross their path.”

Elliot’s heart pounded in his chest. Kovol was asleep. His friend Agatha the Hag had told him that. As long as Kovol remained asleep, the Shadow Men would have no reason to bother him. He hoped.

“You’re not Mr. Willimaker, and you’re not a goat or a werewolf,” Elliot whispered. “And you can take the shape of a Shadow Man, but that’s not you either.”

“I am far more powerful than they are, for I can become them when I want to, or become anything else. I am a Shapeshifter, and you will do what I say.”

Elliot shook his head and forced himself to look into the empty black pits that were now the Shapeshifter’s eyes. “You’re made of shadow. You can’t hurt me.”

The figure swirled around Elliot, creating a wind that sucked the air from his lungs. Heat from the Shadow Man filled the space where the air had been, and sweat stung Elliot’s brow. He collapsed forward and whispered, “Okay, I get it. You’re bad.”

The swirling stopped, and Elliot was able to breathe again. “I’m not bad actually,” the Shapeshifter said. “I just wanted to scare you because you bet me I couldn’t.”

“You win, okay? Please change.”

The Shadow Man shrugged as if it didn’t matter to him, then exhaled slowly and dissolved into the shape of a boy about Elliot’s age.

The boy was about Elliot’s height but with normal legs (Elliot’s legs were still too long for his body). Elliot’s hair had darkened since summer to the same light brown as the boy’s, although streaks of blond still showed in Elliot’s sun-bleached hair. And unlike Elliot, the boy’s clothes matched. Elliot wondered if he’d change anything about his own body if he were a Shapeshifter. Bigger muscles maybe.

“What’s your name?” Elliot asked.

“Harold.”

“Harold?”

“All the best Shapeshifter names were taken before I was born. By the time I came along, it was either Morphid or Pupa Boy.” He shrugged. “My parents skipped Shapeshifter names and called me Harold instead.”

“Harold’s good. That’s our hamster’s name at school.”

Harold groaned. “That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“It should. He’s a good hamster. Runs fast on his wheel and everything. I guess you already know my name.”

“Obviously. Now please, King Elliot, you must release Grissel.”

“Why?”

“All I know is that the Pixies want him free. They forced me to come here and try to fool you into releasing them.”

“How did they force you?”

Harold threw up his hands. “How many times has your mother told you that rhyme, ‘Pixie one, lots of fun. Pixie two, trouble for you. Pixie three, better flee.’”

“Never.” Elliot’s mother didn’t know Pixies exist.

“Well, my mother says it every time the Pixies trick me. She says it a lot. Anyway, they said I wasn’t a very good Shapeshifter, because I couldn’t turn into anything I wanted. I said I could. They bet me I couldn’t.” Harold lowered his eyes. “I have this problem with bets. I can’t say no to them.”

“What did they want you to turn into?” Elliot asked.

Harold’s mouth twisted. Then with a sigh he said, “A marshmallow.”

Elliot giggled. “Regular or mini?”

“It’s not funny,” Harold said. “Of course I had to prove that I could do it. Then when I became a marshmallow I couldn’t think my way back, because as it turns out, marshmallows don’t have brains. The Pixies said they’d change me back but that I had to do what they wanted.”

“What was that?”

“They wanted me to pretend to be you and order the Brownies to release Grissel. But even if I looked exactly like you, I still wouldn’t be the king, so I couldn’t release him. So after they helped me change back, I promised that if they released me, I’d come here pretending to be Mr. Willimaker. The Pixie princess, Fidget Spitfly, agreed, and here I am. So will you release Grissel?”

Elliot wasn’t usually a stubborn kid, but he didn’t see a lot of room to bargain on the issue of Goblins eating his royal subjects. “You’ll have to go back and tell Princess Fidget that I’m not releasing Grissel until he promises to stop eating the Brownies.”

Harold shook his head. “Are you crazy? I’m not telling her anything. Do you know how mad she’ll be that I failed? Sorry, but you’ll have to tell her yourself.”

“If she comes after me, I’ll just capture her,” Elliot said. If he had done that with the Goblins, he could surely do that with her.

“She’s not some stupid Goblin, Elliot. When Princess Fidget wants you, you’ll be the one coming to her.”

Elliot didn’t like the sound of that. “How? When?”

“I don’t know. But if I were you, I wouldn’t go to sleep.”

“Tonight?”

“Ever.” With that, Harold exhaled slowly, and his human body dissolved into the shape of a brown sparrow. He fluttered into the air, waved a wing at Elliot, and then began to fly away. He circled around and stopped midair in front of Elliot, then tweeted, “Sorry about trying to trick you.”

“That’s okay,” Elliot said.

“Maybe I can make it up to you in some way.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Penster!”

Elliot rolled his eyes and turned. Crashing through the bushes was Tubs Lawless, his least favorite former bully.

“Okay, Penster, now you’re going to have to deal with me!”

Not so long ago, if Tubs Lawless had crashed through the bushes and told Elliot, “Now you’re going to have to deal with me,” what that really would have meant is, “Now you’re going to have to deal with a twisted neck.” These days what he meant probably wasn’t a whole lot better. It meant Elliot would have to deal with Tubs through an entire sleepover that night.

“My stuff’s already at your house,” Tubs said. “My parents dropped it off before they went out of town. I already ate the rest of your mom’s lasagna, because I’m always hungry after school. Wendy said she’d cook you something to eat if you ever decide to come home from school.”

“More like she’ll burn me something to eat,” Elliot said grimly. Maybe he could have real food next year.

“Anyway, I told her that I’d find you and drag you back home.”

“I know the way to my own house. I was just talking to someone.”

“I saw that. You were talking to a bird.” Tubs gave Elliot what was probably meant to be a playful jab in the arm. Elliot wondered if it would leave a bruise. “Who are you, Snow White or something?”

Elliot nodded and slung his backpack over his shoulder. “Yeah, something like that.”

Tubs pretty much stopped talking at that point, which was fine by Elliot, who would have preferred to be alone. He wanted to think about everything Harold had said, and what it might mean for him.