Polly Shulman - The Grimm Legacy

“Would you mind dealing with it? It makes me light-headed just to look at it.”

“Of course.” She folded it neatly and fitted it into the kuduo.

In a little while, Aaron’s head appeared on the other side of the fountain. He walked toward us, ducking under the two waterspouts. Somebody was with him. We all sat up straight.

“Martha,” said Doc, holding up the willpower. “Is this yours?”

“Oh! You got it back! Thank heaven!” Ms. Callender almost threw herself at Doc, then stopped and looked around at us uncomfortably.

“Please sit down, Martha.” Dr. Rust sounded stern but not angry.

She sat awkwardly on the grass. Her round face was wreathed in worry.

“Did you leave this as a deposit? I didn’t find a slip,” said Doc, gesturing with the willpower.

She grimaced, but she didn’t say anything.

“Oh, I get it. You can’t answer me. Wallace Stone must have put a curb on your tongue. Let me fix that.” Doc twisted the will back the other way.

Ms. Callender sighed and relaxed. “That’s much better! Thanks, Lee.”

“So, can you talk now? About Wallace, I mean.”

“I think so.”

“What happened to the call slip, then?”

“I filled one out and filed it, but Wallace made me tear it up when he got the kuduo and got his hands on my will,” said Ms. Callender. “I’m so sorry! I had no idea . . .”

“None of us did.” Doc held up the willpower. “What was this a deposit for?”

“That’s almost the worst part. It’s so embarrassing.” Ms. Callender hesitated. I felt so bad for her, I wanted to hide. Why should she have to confess in front of all of us?

But Doc said, “Go on,” and she did.

“It was Table-Be-Set, the French one. I thought I was being so smart! I set my will to restraint and left it in the kuduo, where I couldn’t change it. That way I could eat delicious food, but I wouldn’t overdo it. It was supposed to be a diet plan.”

“A diet. I guess that makes sense.”

Ms. Callender nodded sadly. “It was working too, until Wallace Stone got his hands on my will. He still has that nasty sense of humor. I’ve been eating corn chips nonstop ever since—and I don’t even like corn chips.”

“What happened to the table, do you know? I assume he took it?” Doc asked.

“It should be easy to find out, if we can only catch him. He keeps meticulous records. He has a lot of powerful things. We have to stop him!”

“Don’t worry—the pages caught him already. Elizabeth led him to Grace’s place and stranded him there.”

“You did? You angel!” She gave me a big hug.

“Anytime,” I said, embarrassed.

“So can you find the objects he stole from the Grimm Collection?” asked Doc.

Ms. Callender nodded. “I saw his records—he was making me help with the paperwork. He sold a lot of the objects, but he kept track of where they went. It might take a while, but the lawyers should be able to get them back—we have a clear title.”

“How did he do it?” asked Anjali. “We couldn’t figure out whether he was stealing the magic out of the objects or replacing them with copies.”

“He used a dereifier. At least, he did before he got ahold of my will. The latest few objects he just made me steal from the collection, but the earlier ones, before he got his hands on the kuduo this morning, he had his interns borrow them from the collection and then he copied them with the dereifier.”

“What about Zandra, the page who got fired? Was she working for him?”

“Yes. He was mad that she failed the Grimm Collection key test. She only had access to the stacks, not the Special Collections.”

“What about Mona Chen?” asked Doc.

Ms. Callender shook her head. “He tried to get her to work for him. He threatened to get her family deported, but she refused and disappeared with them. I imagine they’re hiding. He was furious about that too.”

“That’s a relief,” said Doc. “We’ll have to figure out a way to let her know it’s safe to come back.”

“So he just told you all this?” I asked. “Wasn’t he worried you’d try to stop him?”

“He answered all my questions and boasted about everything. He had my willpower, so he thought he was safe. He always did like to gloat.”

“But wait a minute,” said Aaron. “How did Mr. Stone make the copies? I thought you couldn’t copy magic with a dereifier.”

“Not fully and permanently, but you can approximate it for a while,” said Ms. Callender. “They’re working on some pretty advanced dereifiers up at MIT. Wallace managed to make fairly convincing temporary copies. That’s why they lost their magic after too many people checked them out.”

“So if my mermaid comb is a fake, where’s the real one? Will I get my sense of direction back?” I asked.

“I think it’s in Hollywood now. I’m sure we’ll get it back eventually, but I wouldn’t hold my breath. They have deep pockets and stubborn lawyers. I’m sorry, Elizabeth.”

“I’ll take you wherever you need to go,” offered Jaya. “I have a great sense of direction.”

“Thanks, Jaya,” I said sadly.

“The sooner we get started, the sooner we’ll get it back,” said Doc. “Your sense of direction and everything else. You still have the Golden Key, Aaron?”

Aaron held it up.

“Good. Marc, will you carry the kuduo ?” Doc started around the fountain, under two spouting streams, and led us through the winter wood, Polly flapping loudly overhead. We came to a high wall that seemed to circle around forever. Through a low wrought-iron gate I could see the flat, fluorescent white lights of Stack 1, the Dungeon. Aaron took out the Golden Key and opened the gate.

Polly settled on the top of the gate and looked at us expectantly.

“Not you, little roc,” said Dr. Rust. “I’m sorry, but you can’t go home with Elizabeth. You’ll have to stay here for now.”

“Crrrick,” said the bird, putting her head through the gate. She sounded angry.

“It’s nicer in the garden. And Elizabeth will come visit you,” said Dr. Rust.

“How will I get in?” I asked. “I mean out? Do I need to borrow the Golden Key? Or will my sneakers work?”

“You can use the Golden Key, when you can find it. It doesn’t always let itself be found.”

“Good-bye, Polly. I’ll come soon,” I said. “It’s not everybody who gets to be friends with a former terrifying monster who lives in a magical garden!”

The rest of the weekend was something of a letdown. Not that I would have expected my parents to notice my adventure; I made it home in time to help with dinner, after all. But after being shrunk down to the size of a soda can and almost eaten by a rat, defeating a crooked art dealer, helping rescue a prince and a princess from an obsessed collector, and traveling to Nowhere and back, I almost resented being expected to peel potatoes. At the end of the fairy tale, the scullery maid usually gets a promotion.

Monday at lunch, Marc waved me over to sit at his table with the basketball stars and their girlfriends. “This is my bud Elizabeth Rew,” he said, draping his arm around my shoulders. “We work together after school. She saved my life when I got in trouble with the boss.”