Barf of the Bedazzler Read online

  The bedazzler scrutinizes each of us in turn with that huge bloodshot eye.

  “You are surrounded by the riches and rewards that await you as part of my crew,” he says, nodding to piles of golden treasure that litter the room. He floats toward us, a huge repulsive globe of evil.

  But he’s being super polite. Which is nice.

  “Gold,” he continues. “Jewels. Rich tapestries. Exotic treasures from faraway places.”

  “What are these?” asks Weasel, pointing to the glass-domed objects.

  “YOU SHUT YOUR MOUTH!” roars Tidepool, smacking him. “You don’t speak unless your captain tells you to speak.”

  “Tidepool, please,” says the bedazzler. “It’s all right. These are our guests.” The enormous orb turns its eye on the weasel guy. “I see you have an appreciation for the rare and unusual, my friend.”

  Diremaw floats over to the glass dome. “I am a collector, you see. And I confess that I have an appetite. Isn’t that right, Cookie?”

  “Right ye are, Captain,” says Cookie. Moxie stands next to the red-bearded dwarf, eyes wide.

  “I love to have my taste buds tantalized!” says the bedazzler. “So I have collected some of the most rare and savory treats from all over the Fourteen Realms!” The great eye peers into the glass dome. Inside are what seem to be … breadsticks.

  “Behold!” says Diremaw.

  The creature quivers with joy. “I find these rare delicacies. I gobble down half. And I petrify the other half for my collection!”

  He floats to an empty glass dome. “But alas … one delicacy has evaded me.”

  He perks up. “Until today! That’s where you come in!” A deep growl fills the room. It’s coming from … the bedazzler’s … stomach?

  “Please do excuse me!” he says, flushing. “All this excitement has given me the munchies!” The bedazzler drifts to the snack table. “Ah, Cookie! You’ve brought me nachos!”

  “Of course, Captain,” says the dwarf. “I knows how meeting new people makes ye hungry.”

  “You think of everything!” The creature’s enormous mouth opens wide to devour the tableful of nachos that Cookie and Moxie have prepared.

  But then the bedazzler stops.

  He sniffs.

  And he turns to the dwarf. “Cookie?”

  “Yes, Captain?”

  “Do I smell … cilantro?”

  “Cilantro!” squawks Ferny.

  “Yes indeed, Captain!” says Cookie proudly. “It’s in the guacamole. It really gives it some zing. I think you’ll love it!”

  “But I won’t, Cookie,” says Diremaw calmly.

  “You won’t?” The dwarf suddenly looks nervous.

  “No,” says Diremaw. “And do you know why? Because I HATE CILANTRO! JUST THE THOUGHT OF CILANTRO IS ENOUGH TO MAKE ME GAG!!!”

  The entire room cowers at the wrath of the terrible beast before us. The teeth bared, the eye wide, the gemstones sparkling with menace. I would say it’s the stuff of nightmares. But I don’t have enough imagination to dream up something this horrific.

  “DO YOU WANT ME TO GAG, COOKIE?” Diremaw roars.

  Cookie’s ruddy complexion has gone ghostly white. “No, Captain,” he says, groveling pitifully. “I … I … I forgot!”

  One of Diremaw’s gemstones shoots a little lightning bolt at Cookie’s butt. The dwarf yowls in pain.

  “That was a warning shot, Cookie,” says the bedazzler. “I like you. You’re a good cook. But NO CILANTRO!”

  “Yes, Captain!” Cookie cries.

  “Next time you get the disintegration ray,” says Diremaw calmly.

  “Beware the disintegration ray!” croaks Ferny.

  “I would expect nothing less, Captain!” Cookie snatches up the nachos in one hand, grabs Ferny’s pot in the other, and hurries out, leaving Moxie with a spoon in her hand and a terrified expression on her face.

  The bedazzler turns to us. “See? One big happy family!”

  Gulp. And I thought I had family issues.

  The bedazzler floats back to his chair and takes a seat. “Well!” he says. “I suppose you’re ready to hear about your challenge.”

  We nod nervously.

  “Your challenge is a treasure hunt!” he says grandly. “I’m looking to add the final missing piece to my delicious collection. This special snacky delight is known as the Kraken’s Flatbread!”

  The Kraken’s Flatbread. An ominous name, to be sure. A chill of dread fills my heart at the sound of it.

  But the bedazzler is giddy with excitement. “I can’t wait!” he says, bouncing up and down in his chair. “I can’t wait to taste its nommy-liciousness! NUM! NUMMY! NUM! NUM!”

  Diremaw rises from his seat and floats to the door. “Follow me, my friends,” he says, leading us out. “To riches! To treasures! To the Kraken’s Flatbread!”

  Everyone follows Diremaw and Tidepool out to the main deck. But we hang back.

  “Hello, Moxie,” Pan whispers.

  “Hey, guys,” says Moxie. “This challenge sounds intense.”

  “Yes, it does,” says Pan. “That’s why you need to come with us.”

  “I don’t know, guys,” she says uncertainly. “They’ve assigned me to the kitchen.”

  “We need a warrior with us,” Pan points out.

  “Yeah, Hammer-girl—” TickTock begins.

  She cuts him off. “Don’t call me that. I don’t have a hammer anymore. I’m not Hammer-girl,” she says. She pulls out her sad secondhand sword. “Maybe I’m right where I belong. Peeling potatoes.”

  “Crud on a cracker!” I say fiercely. “I don’t care what we call you! Moxie! Hammer-girl! Nacho McCheesy! Whoever you are, we need you.”

  “Fart, I—”

  “You are smart!” I cut her off.

  “That’s very true,” says Pan. “You know more about monsters than anyone alive.”

  “You face every challenge with a smile!” I tell her.

  “Yes!” agrees TickTock. “Hammer-girl always smiles! Even when there is danger!”

  “Not only that!” chimes in Bucket. “But also got nice orange hair.”

  Not really helpful. But at least encouraging.

  “But more important,” I continue, “you are our friend. And we need you.”

  She looks at each of us.

  “MOXIE!” It’s Cookie, calling from the deck. “GET OUT HERE, LASS!”

  “I better go,” Moxie says, her eyes darting toward the door. “If the kitchen doesn’t get cleaned right after breakfast, Master Redmane gets very cranky.”

  “Master Redmane?” asks Pan. “You mean Cookie.”

  Moxie’s face goes bright red. Her eyes slide to the floor. “See? I’m no good to you like this,” she says sadly. “Not without my hammer.”

  “Moxie Battleborne,” I say, lifting her chin. “You are more than just a hammer.”

  She looks at me sadly. She sighs. And she shakes her head.

  “Sorry, guys,” she says. “I gotta go.”

  She grabs her spoon. Her tongs. Her meat tenderizer. And she dashes out the door.

  Leaving us with way less moxie than we need. Way less.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  We are heavyhearted as we gather on the deck around Diremaw the Dread.

  A huge jagged rock juts from the waves not far away, a dark cave gaping ominously at its base. “That bit of stone there,” he says, nodding at the rock. “It is known as the Hag’s Hangnail.”

  The crew gathers around to watch the show. Moxie stands among them, staring blankly ahead.

  “Your hunt for the Kraken’s Flatbread begins here,” Diremaw says.

  The rock is littered with wood and debris. The remains of a shipwreck. Something bad happened here.

  “The tale is a sad one,” the captain says. “Full of woe. And baking.”

  The dreamy look leaves Diremaw’s eye. He blinks back a tear and looks out upon the gaping opening. The water is much lower than it was before. Almost the entire
entrance is showing.

  “Inside yonder cave lies the kraken’s lair,” Tidepool says ominously. “As you can see, the tide is low. Only during low tide can you get in.” She cracks her neck noisily. “Or out.”

  “Within the kraken’s lair lies the wreckage of the Tangerine,” says Diremaw. “And Juliette Kidd’s lost flatbread.” The bedazzler turns his piercing gaze back upon us. “Bring the Kraken’s Flatbread to me.”

  “How long does low tide last?” asks Pan.

  “Good question!” Tidepool looks at the position of the sun. “I’d say you have about five hours until that cave is filled with water once again. You don’t want to be inside when that happens.”

  Weasel has turned green. It’s not a good color on him. He looks over at the other Bad-Breath Bandits nervously. “But I’m not a good swimmer!”

  Diremaw lets out a belly laugh. “Then I suggest you hold on to somebody who is!”

  The crew snickers. Some look amused. Some look terrified. But they all look like they’re glad they aren’t us.

  The bedazzler smiles broadly. “The first team to return with the flatbread will be welcomed into the Death Knell’s family! The other teams…” He trails off and turns to his first mate.

  Tidepool shrugs.

  It’s a shrug that means if we don’t have the flatbread, we should just stay in the cave. Because we’re doomed either way. I hate that shrug.

  “Best get moving,” says Tidepool. “High tide is in less than five hours. On your marks. Get set. Go.”

  Nobody moves.

  The Bad-Breath Bandits looks like they might hurl. The Fluffy Unicorn Gang seems to have a sudden interest in their fingernails.

  I hesitate on the ship’s edge. “I’m not sure I can do this,” I whisper.

  “Don’t worry,” says Pan. She puts her arm around my shoulders. She gives me a reassuring smile.

  And she pushes me in.

  I seem to fall in slow motion. I hit the water with a splash. Bubbles, brine, and blue surround me.

  And then something grabs my leg.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Gurblins are pulling me under.

  I start to cast Magic Missile at the slimy sucker that’s gripping my leg, but I get a mouthful of salt water for my trouble. Instead I give it a swift poke in the face with my staff. It lets go of my leg, and I surge to the surface. But as soon as I gasp for air, two more tug me under again.

  Through the bubbles, I see Pan has her hands full with gurblins of her own. And Bucket. I can’t see TickTock through the foam.

  There’s no nice way to say it. We’re in deep dookie.

  I jab with my staff again. But these fish goblins aren’t even trying to fight me. They know if they drag me down, the water will take care of things for them.

  I manage to shake loose the gurblins and jet toward daylight. I catch a glimpse of Pan and TickTock fighting off a couple others. My head breaks the surface, and I suck in precious oxygen.

  “Pew-pew-patchoo!” I shout quickly, aiming a Magic Missile at the gurblins below me. Bolts of energy nail the one playing snatch-and-grab with my leg.

  SIZZLE!

  But two more replace it. My lungs swallow one more mouthful of air, and then I’m yanked under again.

  I take one last look at the sunlight above me before I am dragged to the depths forever.

  Suddenly the slimy hands release me. I fight my flowing robes and swim again for the surface.

  As my head breaks the waves, I spot a familiar mane of reddish-orange hair.

  Moxie.

  Clever girl. The gurblins were dragging us under so we couldn’t breathe. Moxie’s holding them above water so they can’t breathe.

  I fire off a couple more bolts of energy at the gurblins in her grip. And then I turn and swim for the only solid land in sight.

  I’m not a strong swimmer. But Moxie comes to my rescue again and drags me to the rock before exhaustion overtakes me.

  I haul myself onto the slick rocks. Even though TickTock is half the size of the ogre, he is helping Bucket swim to safety. Soon all five of us are perched on the craggy rocks.

  * * *

  SUPERHEROIC ACHIEVEMENT!

  Survive a Fight with Gurblins!

  (200 Experience Points Awarded)

  * * *

  Seagulls crowd the rocks like winged rats, snapping up fish that have been stranded by the low tide. The cave entrance yawns above us.

  “I think we got ambushed,” I say, panting for air.

  “I think you are right,” says Pan. “If it hadn’t been for TickTock, I would have been doomed.”

  The phibling shrugs. “TickTock does not act like a phibling, but TickTock is still being a phibling,” he explains. “Can be breathing air AND water. And can swim good.”

  “He saved me,” says Pan. “When those things grabbed me, I did my best to fight them off. But TickTock is the one who got me free.”

  “Well, Moxie saved me,” I say.

  “Saved us all,” says Bucket. “Bucket saw orange-hair girl holding ugly fish goblins out of water. Bucket did it too. Fish goblins not like this. Swam away.”

  Pan smirks at Moxie. “See? We told you you’re smart.”

  Moxie shakes her head and half grins.

  “We told you you’re smiling at danger,” says TickTock, pointing at her grin.

  “We told you we need you,” says Bucket.

  “Yeah, yeah,” she says.

  Pan wrings the water out of her robes. Grabbing a long, thin pole from the wreckage, she feels the balance in her hands and nods in satisfaction. Her new bo staff. She turns to Moxie.

  “You should get back to the ship,” she tells Moxie.

  Moxie shakes her head. “Can’t.”

  I turn to her. “What do you mean?”

  She shrugs. “Cookie tried to stop me from jumping in,” she tells us. “Said as long as I was peeling potatoes for him, I was considered part of the crew. But if I jumped in…” She trails off.

  “What?” asks TickTock.

  “I was on my own,” she finishes. “The only way I can come back aboard is with the winning team.”

  I feel my heart sink. The only reason she put her hammer down in that dark alley was to save my sorry butt. And now she’s done it again. She didn’t even want to be here. But she jumped in anyway. To save me.

  “I’m so sorry, Moxie.” I feel my throat tighten up. “Thank you for saving me. Again. Seriously. I thought I was done for.”

  “What am I gonna do?” she says. “Let my favorite mage get drowned by gurblins?”

  Bucket pats Moxie’s hair. “Bucket is glad you come with us.”

  Moxie laughs. “Thanks, Bucket.”

  “Me too,” I say.

  “Me three,” says Pan.

  “TickTock four.”

  “All right, all right.” Moxie pulls out her sad little sword and wrinkles her nose at it. “You couldn’t cut melted butter with this thing.”

  She chucks the old sword into the sea. Then she pulls out the large wooden spoon and grips and ungrips it with determination. “All right.” She nods. “Let’s win this thing.”

  I shake out my robes. “At least we’re in the lead,” I remind them. “The other teams are still on the boat!”

  Moxie’s face falls. “Oh dang, Fart.”

  I turn to her. “What?”

  She winces. “The Bad-Breath Bandits and the Fluffy Unicorn Gang jumped in while the gurblins were distracted with you guys.”

  I can’t believe those jerks. “They just left us to fight a pack of gurblins?”

  “Worse. They used it to get a head start.”

  She points to the dripping cave mouth that gapes before us.

  “They’re already inside the kraken’s lair.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  I imagine the kraken surging out of the dark hole, all webbed feet and gills, gobbling us down into the murky depths forever.

  Yep. Super-cheery thoughts.

  W
e all let out a breath. Then Pan leads the way. Into the Hag’s Hangnail.

  Small crabs scuttle for cover as we approach. We slowly creep down the tunnel into the descending darkness. Ten feet. Twenty. Forty.

  We don’t even make it fifty feet before we are attacked.

  Not by gurblins.

  Not by a kraken.

  Clever strategy. Finish us off and they’re that much closer to the first-place prize.

  The half-orc is on me before I know what has happened. I stumble backward, falling onto the hard stone with a thump. I throw out the first spell that pops into my head.

  “Flimmity-flamesh!” I cry, casting Cozy Camp. Not a great spell for attacking, but I get lucky. The sudden flare of fire to the face sends her staggering backward. And singes her eyebrows right off.

  TickTock leaps forward and shoots webs at the barbarian and the evil-looking dwarf. The hulky barbarian blocks the sticky mass with his club. But the dwarf takes a hit full in the face and tumbles onto his back like a beetle.

  The barbarian roars. Recognizing me as a spell-caster, he lurches at me before I can gather my wits.

  Joke’s on him. I don’t have any wits to gather.

  I scramble back, desperately flinging my dagger at the huge brute. But it bounces off the wall and plops into a tide pool.

  His club flies at my head. But miraculously, something blocks his swing.

  It’s Moxie. Crisscrossing her tongs and mixing spoon, she halts the barbarian’s deadly blow.

  PA-CHOW! She gives him a sharp kick to the kneecap, sending him crumpling in pain.

  “Look out, Moxie!” I cry, pointing. The archer has drawn her bow and fires right at us.

  Moxie turns her back to the arrows, selflessly shielding me from the oncoming flurry.

  PING! PING! PING!

  Astonishingly, the arrows bounce off her back and clatter uselessly to the floor. I can’t believe my eyes. She wears no armor, and yet the deadly arrows simply ricochet off her back … her mucky cloak … as if it were made of metal.

  “I think we know what that magic cloak does now,” I tell her.