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第3章

If two roads diverge in a wood, one of them is probably a trap.

—ADVICE FROM DR. CRITCHLORE

I went straight to Dr. Critchlore's office. He was the only one who could persuade Dr. Frankenhammer to let me talk to the monster.

I was surprised to see Professor Vodum behind the secretary's desk. Professor Vodum had recently been in the necromancy department, but it'd lost its raw materials (dead bodies) in a cemetery explosion. Prior to being in necromancy, Vodum had bounced around many positions, doing a horrible job at each of them. He was married to Dr. Critchlore's cousin, so Dr. Critchlore had to find a job for him somewhere.

Vodum's attention was focused on a pad of paper. I stood in front of the desk, waiting for him to notice me, but he didn't. I glanced at the paper and read:

Positions I am best suited for:

1. Assistant headmaster

2. Professor of advanced topics in strategy

3. Director of business development for Critchlore-trademarked products

He looked up as he thought of a fourth position, and we made eye contact. He quickly looked down to ignore me again.

"Excuse me, Professor Vodum?" I said. "Are you Dr. Critchlore's secretary now?"

"Temporarily," he said. Then he leaned toward me. "Runt, did you know that my wife and Dr. Critchlore are cousins?"

"Yes."

"First cousins," he said. "They are both grandchildren of Nicholas Critchlore. Dr. Critchlore doesn't own this school—it's a family business. But he's appointed himself headmaster, while my wife has no say over operations at all. It's outrageous."

Nobody knew the school's history as well as I did. "It was Dr. Critchlore's idea to open the school," I said, wanting to defend him.

"I should have known you'd take his side," Vodum said. "You're such a suck-up."

"I need to see Dr. Critchlore, if that's okay?"

"Fine with me." He returned his attention to his list.

Dr. Critchlore's expansive office/library/study was dim, his shades drawn. He liked to work surrounded by darkness, saying it increased his focus. A desk lamp provided the only light in the room, shining on a large poster board he was studying. I approached, edging around Pizza (his chocolate Labrador retriever puppy), who was sleeping on the rug in front of his desk. The rug hid a trapdoor, so I was happy to stand to one side.

I looked at the poster, a blown-up picture of the front gate, but with something added beneath the school's name as it arched over the entrance gate. Now the sign read: "Dr. Critchlore's School for Minions and Models."

"Are you changing the school sign?" I asked.

He glanced at me. "VODUM!" he yelled. "You useless pile of dragon droppings. I said NO INTERRUPTIONS!"

"My bad!" Vodum yelled back. "Perhaps I'd be better at another position!"

"Should I leave?" I asked.

"Hmm? Hand me that gold pen," he said, pointing to the edge of his desk.

When I did, he added some fancy edging to the letters.

"?'And models'?" I asked.

"A temporary adjustment. We have visitors coming to see their children. It's such a bother, first the hamadryads checking on Syke, and now this."

"Who?"

"The Siren Syndicate." He shivered.

"But why change the sign?"

"When I recruited the sirens, I might have given their parents the impression that I ran a modeling school." Dr. Critchlore shrugged, like he'd made a tiny mistake and not outright lied. "It was the only way I could lure them away from that hoity-toity finishing school they usually attend."

"That's crazy," I said. "You're famous for running a minion school. How could they not know?"

"Well, businesses are always branching out. And surprisingly, some parents will believe anything if you tell them you'll make their children famous."

"But they must have talked with the girls in the two years they've been here." Most of the sirens were third-year students, like me.

"Sirens aren't really the nurturing type," he said. "Which is one of the reasons why I selected their girls. I could have gone with elves; they are just as pretty, though not as good at singing. I need good singers. Evil Overlords love a pretty girl who can sing. Wingut Thrasher once paid a famous singer her weight in gold to perform at his birthday gala. And I didn't lie; they will be famous when they sing at the Evil Overlord Council in the spring, right before I petition for a license to sell my line of Critchlore Minion Apparel and Weaponry products. Imagine the press I'll—er—they'll get. It'll be fantastic."

I had no doubt.

"But first we must prepare for the visitors," he continued, placing his own to-do list on top of the poster. "They're expecting a fashion show. I need to check on Mistress Moira. She's making dresses for the girls to model."

"All the girls? That's a lot of dresses."

"No, just the sirens, maybe a few other third-years. Whoever's interested. Syke will be in the show. She's my ward; it's only proper."

Syke wasn't going to like that. I don't think she'd ever worn a dress.

As shocking as this development was, I needed to focus on why I'd come.

"Dr. Critchlore—" I said.

"Shh," he said, holding up a hand as he added more things to his list, softly mumbling as he did. "Reception for the sirens, school tour, security …"

I had to see the monster, and quick. Standing there quietly was torture, like when you know the answer in class, but the teacher won't call on you anymore because, in her words, "your enthusiasm borders on annoying."

At last he looked up at me.

"You know that minion Dr. Frankenhammer caught?" The words raced out of my mouth like bats leaving the dungeon at sunset.

"Yes, of course," he said. "Dr. Frankenhammer has the beast in his lab. I told him to dissect it before Pravus comes to reclaim it."

"What? No! You can't." I put my hand on his paper so he wouldn't ignore me again. "She knows where I'm from. And she won't hurt anyone—I promise."

"I'm sorry, Hilton," he said, removing my hand, "but I trust Dr. Frankenhammer's opinion. If he says she's dangerous, then she's dangerous. Now, please, I have a lot of work to do."

I was about to remind him that I'd saved his life and his castle, and he owed me a favor, but Mrs. Gomes, the school's head of security, hustled into the office. She'd been frazzled by all the sabotage in the past weeks, but she seemed to be back to her normal take-charge self. Her hair was once again a perfectly styled helmet of poufiness.

"Before you say anything," she said, "I assure you, gate security is now reinforced."

Dr. Critchlore raised an eyebrow at her.

"Yes, it was a lapse," she said. "But I have girls of my own, and I like to support these types of fund-raising activities."

"But she wasn't a Girl Explorer selling cookies," Dr. Critchlore said. "She was an enemy agent. This was a dangerous mistake on your part."

"I agree," Mrs. Gomes said. "Which brings us to our arriving guests. Measures must be taken to protect the school from the sirens. I have some ideas." She looked at me in a way that said this was none of my business, so I left.

Frustrated, I stopped in the anteroom, wondering how I was going to talk to that monster.

Mrs. Gomes's voice drifted out of the office: "… added patrols for the perimeter; aerial surveillance, probably using dragons, preferably Puddles or Tinkles, not Plopper. The safety stations should be equipped with earplugs, in case the sirens start singing."

"Professor Vodum?" I said. When he looked up, I asked, "Why are they so worried about the siren mothers visiting?"

"Really, you don't know?" He shook his head. "Other than the EOs, the members of the Siren Syndicate are the most powerful people on the Porvian Continent. Over the centuries, the sirens have taken their ability to make ships crash on rocks and turned it into a complete monopoly on ocean and river trade. They control who gets what and when. The Grand Sirenness herself is on many EO Council Committees and regularly hobnobs with the big EOs."

"Why would Dr. Critchlore lie to them about this school?"

"I asked him the same thing. His answer: 'Without great risk there is no great reward.'?" Vodum shook his head. "I think he may have seriously miscalculated here. The Critchlore family is very concerned." He leaned closer to me. "If a majority of family members decide they have no confidence in Dr. Critchlore, they can get someone new to take over."

He smiled, and then added a fourth position to his list: "Headmaster."

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