Farmers in Torvay report that attacks on their livestock, in which the animals were stripped to their bones, have ended. The culprits, nicknamed land piranhas, were never found. Some believe that a minion school was illegally training the beasts outside of Stull.
—ARTICLE IN MINIONS TODAY
I headed down the stairs to the castle foyer, intending to continue down to the dungeon so I could beg Dr. Frankenhammer to let me talk to the monster. Once I hit the steps, I saw Syke running my way.
"Runt," she said, breathing hard. "I was just in Dr. Frankenhammer's lab—"
"But you hate the dungeon," I said.
She waved a hand. "Doesn't matter. I wanted him to let you talk to the monster, but she went berserk. The lab is a mess. He sent her to the holding cells."
"The holding cells. Rats."
Seriously, there were tons of rats on the lower level. It was way creepy.
I pointed to her hand. "What's in the can?"
She held it up so I could read the black label: "Dr. Critchlore's Tornado in a Can?."
"I found it on the floor and decided to pick it up for him," she said.
"And steal it?"
"I thought it had been opened and that's why the lab was such a mess. I only just realized it's a live one."
"Really," I said, not believing a word of it.
She stashed the can in her backpack. "Hey, I was trying to help you."
"I know. Thanks."
"And, Runt? Dr. Frankenhammer is furious. He said …" She looked away, unable to finish.
"What?"
"He said he's going to dissect her as soon as he cleans his lab."
Oh no. I whipped out my to-do list, moving "Save the Monster" to the number one spot. I underlined it twice and put some stars and exclamation points around it.
"I'm going to the holding cells," I said.
"I'm coming with you."
"You don't have to," I said.
"I do. Runt, I meant it when I said I'd do anything to help you find out where you're from. So let's go."
The lower levels were as dungeony as the dungeon got: rocky walls, spiderwebs, the hallways heavy with darkness, and the dank, musty smell of centuries-old skeletons.
"Hey, Gilbert," I said to the skeleton carrying a bucket of fish to the grotto.
He lifted a bony hand to wave at us, and then continued on his way.
We headed for the holding area, a long hallway lined with small cells. The holding cells weren't used anymore, ever since we got a visit from the People for the Ethical Treatment of Minions (PET-M, pronounced "Pet 'em"). They'd inspected the castle and called it inhumane to punish minions by locking them up. Now punished minions got detention. Don't get me started on which is worse: detention or dungeon imprisonment. If I had a choice, I'd pick the dungeon over spending the afternoon with Professor Vodum.
Three ogre-men guards sat on stools in front of the holding-area entrance. Two were playing cards, while the third read a book.
"Hi," I said.
"Scram, kids," one of the card-playing guards said.
"I just want to see the prisoner. She knows who I am," I said. "She won't hurt me."
They laughed. "Only person getting in is Dr. Frankenhammer. Critchlore's orders. Run along."
He stood up, filling the hallway. Syke and I took a step back. She nodded to her backpack and whispered, "It could get windy down here. Just say the word."
I shook my head and pulled her out of there.
At dinner, Frankie, Darthin, and I sat with Eloni Tatupu, who was as huge as an ogre-man but 100 percent human, and Boris Tumblewrecker, who had the brain of an ogre, but was puny, like me.
I couldn't eat. I was so nervous about what was going to happen to the monster.
"Higgins, she's dangerous," Darthin said. "Dr. Frankenhammer knows what he's doing. We need to know more about her in case Dr. Pravus uses one on us again. As far as we know, he has a team of them. Do you know what that means?"
"The Pravus Academy is going to crush our Mixed Monster Arts team," Frankie said. The Pravus Academy had crushed us in just about every interschool athletic competition lately: MMA, tackle three-ball, stealthball. Even the Dead Games, which were played by zombies, mummies, skeletons, and ghosts (Pravus had excellent ghosts). Waterdragon polo, combat archery, and chess too.
"No, Frankie," Darthin said. "Worse than that. Dr. Pravus is going to run us out of business."
"But the monster has answers I need," I said. "I have to talk to her, but she's in a guarded cell."
"Then break her out," Eloni said.
I gulped. "I can't … can I?" Breaking her out would be an Act of Disobedience. Minions do not disobey. It gave me the shakes just thinking about it.
"?'Course you can. Pravus, Critchlore—they break rules all the time," Eloni went on. "Look at the mess we're in right now. Do you think it's because Pravus follows the rules? As we say on the island—if you've got a problem, it's up to you to resolve it. Nobody's gonna help you but you."
"I've got to break her out," I said, trying on the words to see if they fit. They didn't. I needed more convincing. And then I repeated something Dr. Critchlore had said. "?'Without risk, there is no reward.' And I can't just let her die."
Boris kept munching on his food. "Boris thinks you should do it," he said.
I smiled at him, but inside I cringed. Boris was kind of an idiot. His agreeing with me didn't really seal my case.
"It's an Act of Disobedience, Runt," Frankie said, twisting his bolt. "If you got expelled, where would you go? You don't have another home. Don't do it." I felt bad for stressing him out, but despite his thin frame, Frankie was stronger than ten men, and faster than a cheetah. If I was going to break the monster out, I would need his help.
"I'm not saying I'm going to, but if I was"—I turned to all the guys—"how would I get by the guards?"
"Hypothetically?" Darthin asked.
"Sure."
"Well, Critchlore knows you've been asking to free the monster. If she escapes, you're going to be the prime suspect. So first off, you need an alibi. It's movie night. You should go to the movie with Syke, as usual. Make sure everyone sees you. When the lights go down, get Boris to take your spot."
"Syke won't like that," I said. Boris looked so much like me it was eerie, but he was an ogre-man, and had the manners to prove it. Syke would do it, though. She owed me. She owed me big for not telling me I wasn't a werewolf.
Darthin continued to explain a very elaborate plan, one that I probably should have paid attention to. Unfortunately, I saw Dr. Frankenhammer leave the teachers' dining room with a wicked smile on his face and his trusty scalpel in hand.
"Gotta go," I said.
I caught up with Dr. Frankenhammer in the castle foyer. I thought he'd be heading for the dungeon, but he walked straight for one of the two curving staircases that led upstairs.
"Dr. Frankenhammer?" I called.
He turned, one hand on the railing. "Yes, Higginsss?"
"I was wondering—um …" I stopped. He looked at me with raised eyebrows. "Are you going to dissect the monster now?"
Dr. Frankenhammer smiled. "You want to watch? Earn yourself a little extra credit?"
Ew, no. Even the thought of watching that made me dizzy, but he took my silence as a yes.
"You'll have to wait. I'm exhausted after all that cleaning. I was just going to my quartersss to read before bed. I like to do my dissectionsss when I'm fresh."
I tried to mask my relief as disappointment. "Okay."
"Good night, Mr. Higginsss," he said, and continued up the stairs.
