Rupert could feel the sweat droplets forming on the back of his neck. He positively quaked with fear.
“How did you find us?” Witchling Two said. She looked almost too calm.
“We followed you here,” said the younger woman. “If you’re going to gallivant with humans, you shouldn’t be so obvious about it.”
“Honestly,” said the older one, sounding cross. “Studying spells in a dingy old tea shop that’s on the same alley as our shops? You might as well have worn a target on your chest.”
Witchling Two blushed. “I–I wasn’t thinking — you’re right, this was terribly stupid of me. I j-just thought that since the Fairfoul Witch always sleeps during the day and the Midnight Witch is at Foxbury this weekend… But still! I’m sorry, Rupert. I didn’t mean to put you in danger again.” She looked at Rupert, ashamed.
He opened his mouth, but no words came out. The two women were glaring at him with their stony, black, bulging eyes. All of his insides were cold.
“Rupert?” said Witchling Two. “Are you all right? You’re looking… ill.”
“They’re w-w-witches!” he sputtered.
The two women threw their heads back and cackled. They held onto each other and laughed for a good long time, and just when Rupert thought they were done laughing, they looked at one another and cracked up again. He could feel his cheeks flush.
“Ah, you found a smarty-pants,” the younger woman said, dabbing at her eyes with her sleeves.
Witchling Two patted his arm. “Rupert, don’t worry. These are my guardians. This is the Nebulous Witch. But I just call her Nebby.” She pointed to the younger witch with the beak nose and wild black hair. “And this is the Storm Witch. I call her, well, Storm,” she said, gesturing toward the old, wrinkly, pointy-eyebrowed one. “You’re safe with them—”
“Don’t let the boy get too comfortable with us,” Nebby said coldly. “We are not pleased.”
“How dare you disgrace the name of the witch?” Storm howled. “You’re coming home right now. How can you muck around with your Bar Exam just around the corner?”
“I’m not mucking around, Storm,” Witchling Two said. “This boy is helping me practice my magic.”
“Well, I’ll say!” Storm said. Her pointy eyebrows shot so far up that Rupert was afraid they would recede into her hairline. “In my day, we never conversed with humanlings.”
“He’s called boy,” Witchling Two said.
“Actually, he’s called Rupert,” Rupert said, but then he cupped a hand over his mouth.
“Move over,” Nebby said, eyeing Rupert with distaste.
Rupert scooted to the end of the booth as fast as he could, and Nebby sat down next to him. Storm scooched next to Witchling Two.
Nebby frowned. “Now tell us, Witchling Two, what in the world do you think you’re doing?”
“Please — Storm. Nebby,” Witchling Two said. “You two have your Witches Council business, and I need someone to help me. If you don’t want me bothering you, then I need Rupert.”
Nebby shook her head. “This is, without a doubt, the worst idea you’ve ever had.”
“But I want to keep him. Please? Pretty please? Pretty please with lollipops on top?”
Storm snorted. “He’s not a pet, Witchling! You can’t keep him! And more importantly, we can’t guarantee protection from the other witches — for either of you. This is madness.”
Rupert cleared his throat, and they all turned toward him. “Well, if you ask me, I really would like to help Witchling Two with her Bar Exam.”
“Oh really?” Storm said. “You’d like to help? Do you know anything about magic? Spell casting, brewing, witch laws, witch customs?”
“Not exactly, but—”
“It’s settled,” Nebby said calmly, putting up her hand for silence. “Witchling Two, you’ll come back home and study for your exam in your room. Boy, you’ll forget all about this.”
“No!” Witchling Two and Rupert said together.
Nebby shook her head. “Witchling, you’re endangering yourself, this boy, and Storm and me, too. If the Fairfoul Witch finds out about this, she’ll have all our heads, not just yours.”
“Poo,” Witchling Two said with a pout. “I don’t want you to get in trouble. But what about Rupert? He’s my new friend!”
“If you were really a friend to him, you’d end this relationship right now.”
“But what if I do a better job at keeping him a secret? Then I can have my apprentice, you won’t get in trouble, and he won’t need to be protected—”
“I forbid this,” Nebby said firmly. “Don’t make us use magic to make you separate,” she threatened.
Witchling Two glared at her guardians. But then her glare melted away. She sighed, folded her arms, and leaned back against the booth. “Oh, all right,” Witchling Two said with a casual shrug. “I suppose this was a stupid idea anyway. I mean, what does this boy know about magic?”
“Hey!” Rupert said. “I thought you said I was the smartest apprentice you ever had!”
Witchling Two wouldn’t meet his gaze.
Storm stood with a flourish of her black robes. “I say! What are we waiting for? Let’s go!”
Seriously? After all that, he wasn’t going to be a witch’s apprentice after all? “But wait—”
“Good riddance!” Nebby said.
“Harrumph!” Storm said.
“Good-bye forever!” Witchling Two said.
Storm pulled Witchling Two out of the tea shop by the hand, and Rupert watched helplessly as his only friend marched out of his life for good.
Vocabulary Class
AFTER THE STRANGEST, MOST WONDERFUL, AND most heartbreaking long weekend as a witch’s apprentice, Rupert did not want to return to his old life in Mrs. Frabbleknacker’s class for one minute. But he took his seat next to Kyle Mason-Reed and Allison Gormley. They both looked straight ahead with wide eyes. Rupert sighed and did the same.
Moments later, Mrs. Frabbleknacker clip-clopped into the room, and Rupert caught the whiff of belly-button lint again. He bit on his lips to keep from making a sour face. The last time he had made a sour face in Mrs. Frabbleknacker’s class, she made him keep ten marbles in his mouth for an hour. And when Rupert spit them out, to his horror, there were only nine.
Mrs. Frabbleknacker tapped on the board with her long fingernails. The whole class tensed. They were waiting for her to scratch the board, for her fingernails to make that high-pitched, shudder-inducing moan, but Mrs. Frabbleknacker peeled away from the board.
“Children,” she said, as though she was saying something truly awful like Root Canal or Pickled Sausages. “Today we will study vocabulary.”
She turned around and quickly wrote four words on the board:
REPUGNANT
TACITURN
CLAMOR
ABSCOND
Rupert’s jaw dropped.
“Those aren’t words!” Bruno Gopp called out. “Those are just funny sounds put together!”
Mrs. Frabbleknacker’s head twisted around the back of her shoulder. Her eyes were wide and wild. “Did you speak without raising your hand?”
Bruno Gopp cowered. “N-no, ma’am,” he whispered. “I didn’t say anything — it wasn’t me.”
Mrs. Frabbleknacker took a step closer to Bruno, and Rupert was sure that his friend was about to wet himself. Sweat dripped down Bruno’s forehead, and every kid in the class held his breath.
Mrs. Frabbleknacker sucked air through her crooked nose. “And are you lying to me — again?”