How to make a bedsheet into a rope.

  Henry smiles.

  “Prepare my bike,” Henry says to Apollo.

  CHAPTER 16

  An Astonishing Escape

  Henry’s heart is pounding with nerves. He strips the sheet from the bed while listening carefully for any sound that his mother might be coming. He twists and knots the sheet according to the diagram. He ties one end to a corner of the metal bedpost, and yanks to test the strength. Pretty good, actually.

  Henry’s not sure if it’s his imagination, but the house goes quiet. His mother has stopped yelling. Things are not crashing onto the pile. His father must have turned down the sound with the remote.

  He can practically hear the pulse of his own blood in his veins.

  He’d better hurry. And he’d better be absolutely silent. Henry puts his finger to his lips to make sure that Apollo doesn’t make a sound. Rocco puts a tiny lizard finger to his own lips. Please, Rocco, Henry thinks. Please be a calm and well-behaved naked lizard for five minutes.

  Henry shoves his Ranger Scout Handbook into the farthest corner of his closet where it won’t be found. At the last second, he grabs his lucky marble and stuffs it into his pocket, because he’ll need all the luck he can get. Finally, Henry scoops up Button. Oh dear, oh dear—he didn’t think this through. It’s going to be tricky, very tricky, to climb down a rope using one hand while gripping a wriggly Jack Russell terrier with the other.

  You already know that one should never try this at home, of course. Never, ever, ever. These are dire and drastic measures, used only when fighting great evil.

  Henry climbs over the ledge. Apollo seemed so close a minute ago, but now he looks a hundred miles away. Henry doesn’t feel like he has the stuff. Not at all. Not by a long shot.

  The Great Kellar, Performing One of His Most Astonishing Feats

  It’s too, too quiet in the house. Something’s wrong. He needs to speed this up.

  Henry grips the rope and scoots from the ledge. Once it’s in his hands, Henry is reminded that the rope is not a rope at all, but a thin, worn bedsheet. He hangs in midair. His skinny legs dangle. Still, Henry feels like he’s the Great Kellar, performing one of his most astonishing feats.

  It feels amazing, and terrifying, but . . . He’s doing it! He’s making his way to the ground! Poor Button’s belly is being squeezed, and she’s squirming and twisting around when she must not squirm and twist around. Henry’s trying to grip her as he edges down the bedsheet rope, when suddenly, he thinks he hears the bed slide just a little.

  He stops and listens.

  Screeech. The slight scrape of metal against wood.

  “Come on, come on!” Apollo says.

  “Henry?” his mother calls.

  Oh no!

  “Henry, what are you doing in there?”

  He edges. The bed scoots again.

  SCREEECH. Now there’s a small screaming sound as the metal feet of the bed very definitely skate across the wood floor.

  “Henry! What’s that noise?” his mother shouts.

  “Hurry!” Apollo whispers. Rocco is jumping up and down on his shoulder, either from excitement or because he has to go to the bathroom quite badly.

  Henry’s almost there. His feet are nearly on the ground, when suddenly, with a terrible, terrible racket, with a smash, crash, and clatter, the bed slides all at once.

  BAM!

  It bangs against the window, and the metal bed frame smacks the glass, which cracks and shatters to a zillion pieces. A beautiful hailstorm of clear crystals showers over him.

  “HENRY EVERY!” his mother screams.

  “Oh no, oh no, oh NO!” Henry whispers.

  He leaps the last few feet down, tumbles to the grass. Button wriggles free. Apollo has Henry’s bike upright and waiting for him.

  “Go,” Apollo says.

  CHAPTER 17

  The Surprise in the Backpack

  Henry rides like the wind. Ahead of him, Apollo pedals as fast as he can. Then, Apollo lets go of both handlebars and pumps his fists in the air with victory. He shouts something over his shoulder that must be, “Way to go, Henry!” but sounds more like Ay O, Nree! once it travels through the breeze and reaches Henry’s ears.

  Henry doesn’t feel quite as triumphant. He can’t believe what he’s just done. It’s possible he may never be able to go home again. As they bump along the cobblestones of town and cross onto the dirt path of the meadow, Henry scrolls through his options. He and Button may have to live in a train car, riding the rails forever. He may have to join a circus, and Button may have to learn various humiliating tricks.

  Various Humiliating Tricks

  Henry may have to go live at his grandfather’s house.

  Well, he knows that will never happen, no matter what terrible thing he does. His mother and father hate Grandfather Every. They spew venom at his kindness and spit on his every attempt at showing care. They’re jealous of the lighthouse and the gifts and the way the people love him and—Henry understands this now—they’re jealous he’s a senior spell breaker. They despise everything Grandfather has that they don’t, which also includes Henry’s heart. So they keep Henry from him, and every visit or basket of food is arranged in secret, allowed in a random fashion, or forbidden with fury. The things his grandfather said about randomness and fury are things Henry understands from personal experience.

  Still, the thought of living with his grandfather at the lighthouse fills Henry with a . . . Well, do you know the kind of hope that is so magnificent and magical and hopeful that you don’t even dare to think about it? The kind of hope that feels like it’s made of the brightest warm light? That is what he’s filled with. With every swivel of the lantern, the lighthouse says, Blink, there’s a safe place in the world. Blink, you won’t be lost forever. Blink, you are never as alone as you feel.

  No hopeful daydreams matter right at that moment, though, because the truth is, he’s in big, big trouble. The biggest he’s ever been in. Pirate Girl may have broken her arm, and Apollo once broke his mother’s garden-gnome music box, but Henry has never broken anything. Of course, he’s gotten into trouble plenty of times from his parents, but he’s never actually done anything wrong. Now he’s shattered a window and made an escape. He can’t even imagine what he’ll face when he goes back.

  All of this thinking makes him suddenly feel weak. And wobbly. And woozy. He feels like a soap bubble about to pop. “Wait up!” he calls to Apollo, who’s gotten so far ahead that he’s a small spot in that field full of dandelions and forget-me-nots.

  Henry stops his bike. He doesn’t feel well at all. He could keel right over. Apollo loops back and makes a screeching arc in front of Henry’s bike that sends meadow dirt flying.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I don’t know. I . . .”

  “Maybe you need a snack,” Apollo says. “My mother always gives me a snack when I look like that.”

  Food, Henry thinks. He has barely eaten anything since the meal at his grandfather’s house.

  Apollo swings his backpack off. He unzips it.

  And Henry—well, he can’t believe his eyes.

  Inside, there are Monster Munchies, and Rainbow Target Pops. There are Salt-Freckled Zappers, and Jam Giants. And, oh heavens, there are Yummers With Cheese, and Yummers Without Cheese! There are squishy pockets of the juice of every fruit, and there’s even a red plaid thermos of chocolate milk with a cup on top.

  “I haven’t eaten since yesterday,” Henry says.

  “You haven’t?” Apollo’s eyes get wide. “Why not? That’s crazy. Well, eat up, Henry. Eat all you want. There’s plenty for everyone.”

  It’s weird how sometimes the worst day can turn just like that into the best one. (Though, right then, Henry has forgotten that it can turn just like that back into the worst again.)

  “Is it really all right?” he says, before he reaches for a Yummer With Cheese.

  “Of course! Why wouldn’t it be? Have them all if you want, Henry. Give some to Button, too.”

  Oh, oh, oh! He peels the foil and sinks his teeth into the buttery, gooey-ooey deliciousness. They are as magnificent as he ever imagined. They melt on his tongue, and send jolts of joy through him after he swallows. The cheese stretches to impossible lengths. He gives pieces to Button, who downs them in one gulp. He feels glorious, because he is eating and drinking, slurping packages of mandarin-kumquat juice and kumquat-mandarin. His tummy is getting full and Button’s tummy is likely getting full, too, and he can see the Y in the road ahead, not nearly as far as it felt before.

  “Better, Henry?”

  “Much.”

  “You just needed a snack,” Apollo says, and zips his pack. “Onward?”

  “Onward.”

  As if the day couldn’t get more fabulous, Henry spots the shining hair of Jo Idár, flowing like a beautiful waterfall from her bike helmet, as she waits in the Circle of the Y.

  A Beautiful Waterfall

  Pirate Girl’s there, too, kicking the dirt with her boot. She’s wearing her pants with lots of pockets, and the pockets seem to be stuffed with a million things. Her sidecar is overflowing.

  “Took you guys long enough,” she says.

  CHAPTER 18

  An Encounter with Needleman and the Squirrel

  Apollo puts his kickstand down. Jo clicks her helmet over her handlebars. Henry shakes a pebble from his shoe.

  “Um,” Pirate Girl says. “What happens now?”

  And, oh wow, this is awkward, because they all look toward Henry. He has no idea what to do next. He starts to panic a little. His thoughts become a useless bunch of belches and farts. And then, all at once, thank heavens, some words form and fly out of his mouth like a mostly orderly flock of geese.

  “We’ll have a meeting.”

  A Mostly Orderly Flock of Geese

  “A meeting!” Jo nods, as if it’s a terrific idea.

  Apollo looks doubtful. “My father has lots of those at work, and he says they’re a waste of time.”

  “Manuela Sáenz had lots of meetings with high-ranking military officers to discuss the revolutions in Latin America. And so did my mother, after she bought Rio Royale from Mr. Swinehoff.”

  “Wait. Is it safe here?” Pirate Girl asks.

  She’s right. It’s easy to forget. They glance around, their heads swiveling. How can you tell who is who and what is what, though? Every spider is a possible spy of Vlad Luxor’s. Every crow might be a gossip. Every rock might not be a rock. That tree could be the missing Dr. Indigo Evans, who vanished one day when she was helping the wounded Bartleby family, who’d been injured during that terrible windstorm. Vlad believes that people should help only themselves.

  “Are we safe anywhere?” Henry asks.

  “Good point,” Apollo says.

  “We’ll sit close together and keep our voices low,” Jo says.

  They plop on the grass in a circle, with Button in the middle. Rocco is curled on top of the dog’s soft head. An ant makes a determined trek over the mountain of Henry’s ankle. His stomach aches with the weight of leadership.

  “All right,” he says.

  There’s a painful moment of silence. Henry hears a large clock ticking in his head. Pirate Girl picks grass and piles it into a mound.

  “Okay, I know something important,” Jo says, saving Henry’s skin. “We should definitely talk about what happened last night.”

  “What happened last night?” Apollo asks.

  “Yeah, what happened last night?” Pirate Girl says.

  “You guys didn’t hear? Vlad Luxor turned Mrs. Trembly into a yellow-beaked starling! My mother told me.”

  A Yellow-Beaked Starling

  “Oh no!” Henry says. “That’s terrible!” Mrs. Trembly is the school librarian. Henry loves her. He can’t imagine more awful news.

  “She didn’t even do anything. Vlad Luxor just doesn’t approve of the books on her shelves. Too much knowledge isn’t good for the people.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Pirate Girl whispers.

  “It was bad. Very bad. She was in her own garden, staring at the moon through her telescope, when bam. Now the only thing she can say is caw, caw, caw.”

  “He’s got to be stopped.” Yummers With Cheese plus this tragic news have renewed Henry’s determination.

  “And another important thing. I asked my mother about Aunt Maria Fernanda,” Jo continues. “She said it was true, what Captain Every said. And then she held my hands and very quietly asked, ‘You?’ and I nodded. My mother cried and then kissed me on both cheeks and told me she was proud. She told me that the women of my family had been fighters against injustice all the way back to Manuela Sáenz, revolutionary hero of South America.”

  “Wow.” To Henry, this sounds so much more important than a family of pirates and bad seeds.

  “I asked my dad,” Apollo says. “I didn’t tell him about me yet, though. My parents are already upset enough about Rocco. But Dad said that we came from a long line of great thinkers and philosophers.”

  “What’s a philosopher?” Pirate Girl asks.

  “Someone who thinks smart stuff and says smart stuff,” Apollo says. “We also had an astronaut. An explorer of the wide and mysterious cosmos.”

  “How awesome,” Jo says, and fixes her eyes on Apollo. Henry sighs. Even Apollo’s relatives were handsome and smart and brave.

  The Wide and Mysterious Cosmos

  “I couldn’t ask,” Pirate Girl says. “My dad wasn’t home.” Pirate Girl plucks a dandelion puff and blows. The seeds drift off to create a million more dandelion puffs.

  “Wait, what, Rocco?” Apollo takes Rocco from Button’s head and holds him to his ear to better hear.

  “Flying astronaut!” Rocco squeaks. He flaps his tiny naked lizard arms, and then he leaps from Apollo’s hand.

  It is a long way down for a lizard. Plus, he immediately disappears in the tall grass. In an instant, Pirate Girl spots him and snatches him right up, like a crouton from a salad.

  “I guess not everyone in the family uses their head,” Apollo says, plucking him from Pirate Girl’s fingers. “Rocco, how will we ever get out of this alive if you keep being such a naughty, troublesome—”

  But Apollo doesn’t have the chance to finish. Because, right then, a giant acorn rolls across the ground and hits Apollo’s shoe. The children follow the route of the acorn and look up. They gasp. A fat, sly squirrel sits beside the thin, dark figure of Mr. Needleman, Vlad Luxor’s right-hand man.

  Henry and Pirate Girl scurry madly to their feet. Jo and Apollo do the same. How long has Needleman been there, watching and listening? The children stand as close to each other as possible, elbows touching elbows, sneakers next to sneakers. Henry’s tennis-ball knees practically knock together. Goose bumps edge up his arms. Button growls long and low, and Henry grabs her collar so she’ll stop.

  Needleman—he’s as tall as a medium lamppost, and thin as an envelope. His nose slides down to a sharp point. His bow tie is crisp. And that squirrel looks capable of doing all of the sudden and creepy squirrel-ish things you worry a squirrel might do, like darting up your pant leg or leaping into your hair.

  “Four children,” Mr. Needleman says.

  “Five,” Rocco squeaks, too softly for Mr. Needleman to hear, fortunately.

  “Four particular children.”

  “Five, five, five,” Rocco says.

  Apollo shoves Rocco into his pocket, where he rattles around with two quarters and a five-dollar bill. Pirate Girl takes Jo’s hand, because Jo is trembling.

  Henry clears his throat. It’s hard to even speak in Mr. Needleman’s presence.

  “We were just heading to the, uh, store—” Henry croaks out a lie.

  “The store.”

  “The Always Open.”

  “The Always Open is closed.”

  “The Always Open is never closed,” Pirate Girl says.

  “Well, it is now. Renovations!”

  “Renovations?” Pirate Girl asks. Henry wishes she’d get that challenging look out of her eyes.

  “Improvements. Sprucing up. Making things look pretty! And why were four children going alone to the store? Children should never be alone! Why have you left the protection of your cul-de-sacs and car seats and baby gates?”

  Apollo thinks quickly. “Milk. My mother ran out of milk.”

  “And it takes four particular children to get it?” Needleman raises one eyebrow.

  “She needs a very large carton,” Apollo says.

  “We’ll just, uh, get it another time,” Henry says.

  “Well, remember, children. It’s quite perilous out here on the road and in the city and in the valley and in the country and by the sea alone without your parents.”

  “We’ll remember.”

  “It’s very dangerous to be on playgrounds and on sidewalks and on bicycles. Deadly to eat sugary foods and to use butter knives and touch dirty doorknobs. Toxic to eat unwashed vegetables and unbaked cookie dough. Lethal to be out of range of baby monitors and cell phones. The only safe thing to do is hold the hands of your mommies at every moment.”

  Henry isn’t so sure about this, but he’s keeping his mouth shut.

  “Onward! Off you go,” Needleman says. And then he does a terrible thing. He leans forward, takes his thumb and forefinger, and flicks Henry right on his narrow knob of a shoulder.

  Henry feels the little jab of pain, but this isn’t what actually hurts. He doesn’t know why, but that flick makes him feel awful and ashamed.