“I don’t think it matters,” Elliot said. “Mom and Dad are pretty smart. I think they’re going to notice when they sit down for dinner tonight that THE ENTIRE HOUSE IS GONE!”
“Of course they’ll notice,” Wendy said. “But we’ve got to have dinner somewhere, and I think it’s better to have it in an organized blown-up house than a messy one. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Well, you’ll have to burn our dinner somewhere else tonight,” Elliot said. “I’m not hungry anyway.”
He stomped off back into the woods. Wendy called after him, but he had bigger problems than his sister’s hurt feelings. Mr. Willimaker waited for him at the edge of the trees, right at the border of sunlight and shadow. “What a waste of a perfectly good house,” Mr. Willimaker said. “Well, a somewhat good house anyway.”
Elliot turned back to the smoky pile of rubble. “When I said I’d become king, I didn’t know things would go this far. I’m just a kid. I can’t protect myself from the Goblins. Now it looks as if I can’t protect my family. I can’t save the Brownies either.”
“I have to tell you something,” Mr. Willimaker muttered nervously. “Something I should have told you at the very start. The truth is that Queen Bipsy didn’t exactly give me your name. She told me to choose the king, and I was the one who wrote in your name, because you saved Patches three Halloweens ago. I never thought the Brownies would let a human become king. I never thought any of this would happen.”
“So I’m not really the king?” Elliot asked.
“Not if you don’t want to be.”
Elliot shrugged. “I’m just not sure if I’m right for the job. But I have to finish what the Goblins started. After that, I’ll decide whether I’ll stay as king.”
“But what are you going to do?” Mr. Willimaker knotted his fingers together. If he twisted his hands any longer, he might never get them apart again.
Elliot pushed his jaw forward. “If I can’t go to the Underworld, then I’m bringing the Underworld here. We’re going to rescue Patches. Then we’ll find out who is helping the Goblins. Then we’re going to teach the Goblins a lesson once and for all.”
Mr. Willimaker bowed low to Elliot. “At least for now, my friend, I’m very glad that you’re our king.”
Elliot’s father wasn’t as angry as Elliot had expected him to be about their blown-up house. Or may
be he was just in shock.
“The staircase had a squeak in it,” he said, staring at where the staircase used to be. “I guess that’s not a problem now. But that’s all right if we don’t have a staircase, since there’s no more upstairs. If anyone did try to go up the staircase, they’d just fall off at the top.”
On the other hand, Elliot’s mother just shook her head and about every ten seconds would mumble, “Oh dear, oh dear.” Elliot also noticed she had stopped blinking. That probably wasn’t good.
The police had been at the house for three hours trying to figure out why it blew up. Uncle Rufus confessed that maybe his passing gas had somehow blown up the house, but the police said they were sure that wasn’t the cause. Passing gas has only been rumored to blow up a house one time in Sprite’s Hollow, and that was supposedly after the owner gorged on some very spicy chili for an entire year. Elliot knew that unless the police had Goblins on their list of suspects, they’d never find the real answer.
Wendy shambled by Elliot with a pitcher of water in her hands. Elliot wondered where she’d found it. “You thirsty?” she asked him.
“Nah. Sorry about what I said before, about you burning our food.”
Wendy smiled. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be burning our food again in no time.” Then she hurried over to offer their mother a drink.
“I can’t believe it!” Agatha said, walking up behind Elliot. “Why, this is unexpected. I don’t remember cursing your house.”
Elliot sighed. “It wasn’t you, Agatha. The Goblins did this.”
“Oh. I hoped I had cursed your house to explode. Then I’d know I had my powers back.”
“You’ve always had them,” Elliot said. “You just weren’t doing your rhymes correctly.”
Agatha tilted her head toward Elliot. “What do you mean?”
“The last words in all your curses. They’re not the right words. You say ‘sung to by a pea’ when you mean ‘stung by a bee.’ Or ‘eat something hairy’ when you mean ‘meet something scary.”
Agatha drew back. “I meant something hairy. Like a Yeti.”
“Yetis aren’t real.”
Agatha laughed in a way that made Elliot think maybe she knew something he didn’t. A shiver ran down his spine, and he said, “Anyway, the only time you got the rhyme right is when you cursed me to meet the Goblin leader alone. I figure that’s still going to happen.”
Agatha’s voice softened. “Everyone gets cursed at times in their life, Elliot. The trick is, can you look past the cursing? Can you see it for what it is? Take your house, for example. Beyond the exploded pieces, what do you see?”