Patches had decided there were worse things than being stuck in the cave full of carrots. It was better here than at school, where all the other Brownie kids still teased her about her father and the field mouse scare. It was better than being stuck in the rock hole, where she had only gotten a single carrot after she told them an idea to get King Elliot. However, it was not better than going on vacation to Underworld World, the happiest place under the earth. But that was an entirely different matter.
For now, all Patches cared about was being stuck. Every time she tried to sneak out, the Goblin guarding the cave peeked inside as if he’d heard—or smelled—her. Trapped with nothing to do but eat carrots left Patches with more than enough time to think about what might have happened to King Elliot. She’d barely slept all night, so anxious for him that she’d only managed to eat 214 carrots.
It was with great worry the next morning that Patches heard Fudd and Grissel return to the rock hole. Their voices were angry. Patches felt a little relief. If they were arguing, then things had probably not gone the way they wanted with Elliot.
The guard quickly ran off when Grissel ordered him to go away. Then Fudd and Grissel began talking right outside the entrance to the carrot cave.
“Your plan to scare King Elliot to death failed!” Fudd said. “How could it fail? You told me you’d use your scariest Goblins!”
Grissel growled. “I did. They were so good they almost scared me to death.”
“Then what went wrong?”
“It seems your king has a hag. Her beauty forced us away.” Grissel threw out his chunky hands. “Why didn’t you tell me Elliot had a hag?”
Fudd sounded offended. “They told me that the hag was broken. I didn’t think it was important.”
“Well, she wasn’t broken last night. Maybe her curses don’t work as well as usual, but when she transforms, she puts off a lot of light. She burned my eyes!”
“Ouch. That’s why they’re so red.”
Grissel whimpered. “No, that’s because after I came back I tried to put some burn cream on them. I guess you can’t put the cream right on your eye.”
Fudd huffed. Even a river troll knew that. “So what now?” he demanded.
“We’re done,” Grissel said. “Let the Brownies have a human king if they want. We’ll continue our war against the Brownies as we have for the last three years. Pretty soon we’ll have eaten every Brownie, and there won’t be anyone left for the human boy, Elliot Penster, to rule.”
“No!”
Fudd said, stamping a foot. “The idea is for you to get revenge against Elliot and for me to become the Brownie king! We had an agreement.”
“Whatever happens next, you’ll have to do it on your own,” Grissel said. “So far we’ve done all the work. If you want to get Elliot, then it’s up to you.”
Fudd kicked at a rock. It rolled into the cave, not far from where Patches was carefully listening to every word.
So the Goblin plan hadn’t worked! Elliot was alive! For now.
“You tried the not foolproof plan, and it failed,” Fudd mumbled. “You tried the Chocolate Cake of Horror plan, and it failed. Then last night you tried the foolproof plan, and it also failed. So maybe it’s time to try something that isn’t either one. Something no one can protect Elliot from, because it’s never been done before.”
“I like it,” Grissel said. “Better yet, I love it. Whatever it is, it’s got to be great!”
“That’s right,” Fudd agreed. “If it’s never been done, then it’s never failed yet. And something that has never failed is certain to succeed! We’ll do something final. Something really, really awful.” Fudd thought about all the plans he’d formed that first night in Elliot’s room. Then he smiled. The last idea was so crazy that it just might work. It was evil, cruel, and only required a bit of black market Pixie magic. Besides, rule number twelve in the Guidebook to Evil Plans clearly stated, “Think big. Small plans have never produced great villains (page 33).”
Fudd turned to Grissel, his grin so wide it showed most of his pointy teeth. “Wait until tomorrow,” he said. “After tomorrow, Elliot Penster, king of the Brownies, will be no more.”
Inside the cave, Patches gasped. They were going to get Elliot this time. And there was nothing she could do about it. She had to make a run for it. Her short Brownie legs weren’t made for running really fast, but the Goblins didn’t know she had escaped the hole. Hopefully they’d be so surprised that she’d get free before they caught her.
Patches waited until it was quiet outside and then took a deep breath and began running. She ran from the cave as fast as she could—maybe as fast as any Brownie had ever run before. But even a fast-running Brownie is still pretty slow. It was no trouble at all for Grissel to grab on to her hair as she exited the cave and pull her back to him.
“Did you think I couldn’t smell you in there?” he snarled at her. “Where were you going in such a hurry?”
“I had to warn King Elliot,” she said. “I have to help him.”
“You will help him,” Grissel said with an evil grin. “You’ll help him lose.” He tossed Patches to a couple of Goblins waiting nearby. “Tie her up good. I have a feeling we’re going to need her help soon.”
Due to being almost dead, Elliot had missed school on Thursday. By late afternoon he was completely alive again. He was so completely alive that the rest of his family decided he must’ve only had a case of the stomach flu the night before. Wendy baked him another cake to celebrate his getting better. Elliot thought it was chocolate, but it was actually a very burned white cake. He crunched it down anyway. Reed brought him a whole bag of pickle relish from the Quack Shack in case he felt like having any. (He didn’t.) And Kyle and Cole flooded the woods behind Elliot’s house again. Not really to celebrate Elliot getting better. It’s just what they liked to do.
The next day was Friday, and if you remember from chapter 9, Elliot had to stay after school for detention because his teacher thought he’d made a joke during science class. He couldn’t explain to his teacher at the time why he had Brownies on his mind. And now he was fairly certain that even if he tried to tell the teacher that he was the king of the Brownies, it would only earn him more detention.