CHAPTER TWELVE

ABBY TO THE RESCUE

Alexander wished he’d never met the leprechauns.

Where are they?

They promised to protect me.

The leprechauns never asked me about adding a girl to the team, and an obnoxious one at that.

He struggled to free himself from his restraints, but they were too tight. The cuffs bit into his wrists if he moved them too much. He could forget about freeing himself from the yoke around his neck, surprised that he could breathe, let alone escape.

Now the rats crawled up his leg, inching their way up his chest. He yelled as loud as he could, but only his enemy could hear his cries. Then he denied the rats even existed, just before begging for mercy. Finally, he accepted his fate. “Get it over with. I have one request before you eat me.”

The lead rat stopped, stood on his hind legs, and scratched behind his ear. Alexander glimpsed briefly dozens of rats huddled together and discussing his foolish request before they ate him. They gazed at the boy and shrugged their shoulders, somewhat confused, before continuing their conversation. Confusing a rat is no easy task.

Several of the junior rodents nodded their heads in approval, but most of the senior ranks wriggled their noses, which Alexander took as a bad sign. Finally, a rather large one-eyed rodent with a tattered ear and crimped tail scurried up to Alexander’s chest. His deadly black eye zoned in on his victim. The rat gave a curt nod of his cone-like head.

“Does that mean I am granted my wish?” Alexander quizzed the rodent. Life lesson: Hope that you’re never in a position where begging rodents might be the difference between life and death.

The rat nodded his head again.

“My request is simple. Let me go,” Alexander mustered as much conviction he could gather, considering his dilemma.

Puzzled, the rat backed away and ran down Alex’s leg, huddling with his horde. This time, no whisker wiggling or head nodding, just a bunch of rats gnashing their teeth.

                                                                 

It didn’t take long for Alexander to assume they denied his request. To make matters worse, the wall behind him glowed and grow warm. “Great, they’re gonna barbecue me before they eat me.” He was surprised he didn’t burst into flames.

The heat on the wall intensified. The wall glowed like a volcano. Any rat near the wall sizzled and exploded. Then without warning, hot lava burst from the wall, turning the remaining rodents into crispy critters. Old one-eye-negotiator rat was the last to combust.

The door burst open, filling the entranceway with the dullness of a moonless night. Then the back doorway exploded, followed by a blinding flash of light.

He heard a voice say, “Did you miss me?” He didn’t need his sight to recognize the annoying voice.

“Miss you? I’m lucky your firework display only blinded me for life. What were you thinking? You know I’m flammable, don’t you?” His temporary blindness became a blur. Abby put her finger to his lips and shushed him.

Alexander’s vision soon changed from blurry to hazy. He saw the faint outline of two diminutive people shaking a stick at one ghost, floating inches above the floor.

“I might have known it was the two of you who put the brat up to spying on me,” Shelly cackled as she dodged a swing of O’Toole’s shillelagh. Then she saw the grizzled remnants of her beloved rat horde. “Look what has become of my lovelies,” she cried out. Her evil red eyes bulged as she pointed her ghastly ghostly finger directly at Alexander. “You will pay for this, dearie.”

Unfortunately, when Alexander’s vision returned, he saw Shelly was even more hideous than he’d imagined. Her red eyes were crossed, forcing her to look down her freakish and overly long hawk-like nose. One leg was missing at the knee, and the other at her ankle. Alexander felt more pity than fear. Then the expression on the witch ghost’s face extinguished any sympathy.

Shelly faced O’Toole and Malley with her hands on her hips. Her lip curled up to form the scariest, crooked smile you’d ever want to see. “You’re too late. I’ve already sent a messenger rat to Morgan. She’ll soon know all about you, the boy, and the white witch.”

Malley reached into his pocket and brought out a dead rat which he held by the tip of its tail.

Shelly’s eyes turned blood red, and she quivered. Fire spewed hot lava from her mouth. Her head swiveled 360 degrees. The witch let out a harsh screech that would curl the toes of even the bravest. “You have spoiled my plans! Now all of you must die!”

O’Toole and Malley stood back-to-back with their shillelaghs crossed, expecting an attack. Abby moved into position to protect Alexander.

Shelly’s body convulsed and her joints popped, one at a time. First, a dragon’s tail appeared, followed by wings, talons, and finally the head. She changed into a dragon, a tiny one, no taller than the tables, but still a dragon. The witch/dragon/ghost spewed fire from its nostrils.

Shelly, the dragon, circled the trapped leprechauns. Darkness replaced the light. “You can’t possibly think I sent just one messenger rat?”

O’Toole and Malley circled, following Shelly’s every move.

“Oh, come now, I’m shrewder than you might think.” She took a step closer. “I’m not a huge leprechaun fan. They are so tasteless and leathery. But, they are palatable with enough salt and ketchup.”

Alexander could take no more. “Leave my friends alone,” he called out from behind Abby.

“I’ll get to you later, boy,” Shelly hissed. “First, I’m going to eat the skinny one, followed by the chubby one. Your girlfriend will be next. And I’ll force you to watch the whole thing, my tender little snack.”

“She’s not my girlfriend. I don’t even like her.” For some reason, he wished Abby didn’t hear him. “No offense,” he whispered to Abby. “I don’t like girls. They’re all disgusting. Well, you not so much. But still…”

“We’ve wasted enough time,” O’Toole tapped Malley on the shoulder. “Are you as fed up with this dragon as I am?”

“I was wondering when you would ask. Let’s do this.”

O’Toole and Malley crossed their Shillelaghs and aimed them at the witch/dragon/ghost.

The last thing coming from Shelly was, “Isn’t that quaint? They think they can destroy me with a stick—” Then she exploded, leaving a trail of black goo dripping from the ceiling.