“I’m not teasing. I swear.”
Nobody laughs when they’re devastated. He is unscrupulous. I must remain vigilant.
I shiver again, the magic inside me scintillating, magnifying my instincts, and I sense it in the atmosphere—
Luna has somehow heard my thoughts. She’s heard me thinkLuna was rightand now her power is growing. My hands quiver.
The longer I lie here, the faster my heartbeat gallops. Luna is listening. Luna is outside the tent.
“Where are you going?” Morgan asks when I unzip myself.
“My sister’s here.”
He sits up. “Which one?”
I slip into the night, looking around. Luna isn’t staying put, jogging in circles. “Stop that,” I command. “There isn’t enough room for you in our tent. Why are you here?”
“Your dog missed you.” She lets go of a small animal, the size of a newborn puppy, with a smooth, featureless face. Its leash jingles against the dirt as it bounds toward me.
“Oh right. Thanks for bringing her.”
“Do you remember it yet?” she wants to know. I think her head is cocked, but I can’t see her well enough to be sure.
I extend my hands, gazing skyward. “The rain has gotten so dry.”
Morgan crawls on his hands and knees out of the tent. “Snake!”
“Luna, get out of here!” I scream. “The snake will take you!”
“Luna, come back,” Morgan cries. “You have to save us. Tell my dad. He’s seen snakes before. They haven’t been seen inyears.”
How’d I forget? I sit down so that the snake can’t get me. “This is amazing. We can sell the snake for eleven thousand dollars.”
“Oh no, my legs don’t work.” He kicks them wildly. “Do you see? They’re not moving.” Morgan covers his face with his arms and mutters, “Peril, peril.”
I stare at him, and all I can think about is his skeleton. Just sitting there inside all that soup of blood and sinew. Wet bones. “Stop talking,” I beg. “I can see your mandible.”
He springs to his feet. “Stop looking at my mandible!”
“We have to take out your bones.”
“Start with my legs. They won’t move anymore.”
It’s burning hot outside. I wasted my summer, so it must have started over. We’re back in June again. Wonderful! I have so much time to work on my book now. “Let’s find our bone extractor,” I suggest, searching the tent. It’s a good thing I packed a well-loved copy ofBlood and Guts: A History of Surgeryby Richard Hollingham. Never go anywhere withoutBlood and Guts, that’s my motto.
Morgan’s pillow turns into a snail, so he has to put it outside.
“Calm down,” I encourage soothingly, tying Morgan down to the sleeping bag with clamps. “Shhh.”
“I’ve changed my mind. I want to keep my bones.”
“You don’t need them anymore. Trust me.” I locate the bone extractor, pressing it to his kneecap. Morgan howls.
“Your face has gone swirly,” he wheezes. Enormous pupils appear in his otherwise empty eye sockets, rolling all over the place untethered. “Stop it! Put your beautiful face back how it goes! I liked it the other way. So much.”
“Shhh.” I subdue him with graham cracker crumbs in his hair. “It’s June.” I sit astride him. “Do you smell that?”
“It’s music. I’m playing it just for you.” Morgan strokes my hair. “The mountain king song.”
