Wizardmatch Read online

  This wasn’t happening. THIS WASN’T HAPPENING. How could Mom do this to her? Without even warning her first.

  “I still believe in you, Len,” her mom whispered. “I love you so much.”

  Liar! she thought, folding her hands defiantly.

  Lennie didn’t understand—she could hold her invisibility for two seconds longer than Michael. It was a fact. They all knew it. She was the one who led invisibility drills with him. Why would they pick the student for this big competition when they could have picked the teacher? The unfairness of it all swallowed her up in a big wave.

  Poppop Pomporromp was saying something about the competition, but Lennie wasn’t even listening. She peered down at the nervous, excited champions with a fiery glare that could have melted all of Netherly.

  “We’ll meet here in forty-eight hours for the champion introductions. Be prepared . . . or BE SCARED,” Poppop cackled. “Good night!”

  Without a word to her mom, Lennie stormed away. It was dark by now, and she held her arms as she whipped across the courtyard and into the castle. The rest of the families were celebrating over dinner, but Lennie didn’t feel like joining them. Up the stairs she went, until she was safely in her room.

  But it wasn’t safe for long, because she was sharing it with Michael.

  “Lennie, Lennie, Lennie! Isn’t this cool?” Michael said, bursting into the room after she’d snuggled under her covers. “I get to compete!”

  “Congratulations,” she said, trying her hardest not to let her voice wobble.

  “I can’t believe it! HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!!! This is so so so so awesome! The best thing that could ever happen—”

  Lennie pulled a pickle-shaped pillow over her ears. Every word he said was a twist in her gut. She squeezed her eyes shut—she didn’t want to look at him or hear him or even occupy the same space. She missed her room . . . she missed her dad . . .

  Lennie fell asleep with the pillow on top of her head and didn’t wake up until dawn—to the brilliant sun radiating through her tomato window. It was beautiful—and then, she remembered, it wasn’t. Her chest tightened as she thought about yesterday. Her one chance to follow her dreams, completely shattered. She shoved the pillow over her face, blocking out another perfect day in this perfect world where everything was oh-so-perfect.

  Eventually, she peeled the covers off her and dangled her feet over the bed. Michael was still snoring, content in his sleep; she couldn’t stand to look at him! She changed hastily and got out of there as fast as she could.

  She was hungry—no, utterly and completely famished—from having skipped dinner last night. But the thought of having to sit next to Michael, Ellington, and Anya at breakfast—at any meal, really—was too much to bear. Just seeing them would cause all these feelings to bubble up; even thinking about them made her feel like she was drowning.

  And Julien—if he saw her, he’d be even more insufferable. She’d always be a bummer now, since she wasn’t going to be Prime Wizard. And he actually might be! The thought of that made her kick her skateboard so hard it rolled down three stories. She had to whistle for it again and wait for the board to spiral back up the ramp.

  And then, there was Mom and Poppop. Imagining running into them made Lennie want to EXPLODE. And she couldn’t—wouldn’t—have a meltdown in front of the whole family. Examining the map in her fanny pack again, Lennie decided to sneak to casual kitchen #2.

  Casual kitchen #2 was located on the forty-first floor, and it was filled with swirly wisps that transformed into delicious smelling food when Lennie got within arm’s length. She walked around, drooling from the sweet smell of brownies suspended in midair, the savory whiff of hovering garlic bread, the spicy scent of floating chicken curry. Whenever she stepped out of range, the food transformed back into smoke again, taking the scent with it.

  She finally stopped when she wandered near a cloud that transformed into a full stack of buttermilk pancakes, dripping with butter and oozing with syrup—complete with fresh fruit on top.

  Lennie reached for the plate and found it was heavy in her hands: The food was piping hot and ready to eat. She sat on a stool at a high-top table in the corner of the room. Looking out a small window into the borderlands, Lennie folded the top pancake and stuffed her cheeks with it, like a chipmunk. It practically melted in her mouth.

  Sighing, Lennie stared at her stack of magical pancakes.

  She never thought any of this would happen. Sure, she had been worried about it, but deep down she never actually thought she wouldn’t get to participate in Wizardmatch. Or that her mom would choose Michael over her.

  How?

  How did this happen? She tried to replay the moments leading up to the opening ceremony in her mind.

  Was the problem that she was half-Filipino when he wanted someone white? Or was it that she was a girl, when Poppop wanted a boy? Or was it both, together, that made her too different? But she didn’t feel too different. She felt just like everyone else . . . until Poppop pointed out that she wasn’t.

  She deeply, desperately missed her dad. He would have understood how she felt. He would’ve known exactly what to do in this situation.

  It just wasn’t fair. She didn’t even have a chance to prove herself to Poppop.

  She perked up.

  Prove myself to Poppop! That’s exactly what I have to do!

  She ran to the ramp and took a skateboard all the way up to Poppop’s penthouse. On the forty-seventh floor, she faced those golden doors again. DOOM AND DEVASTATION AND DEATH AWAIT ALL WHO ENTER!

  Lennie knocked on the door.

  “Ouch! Stop hitting me!” the door said. “You must have a password to enter.”

  A password! Lennie grimaced. “I didn’t need a password last time. Can’t you just tell my poppop I’m here to see him?”

  “PASSWORD!” demanded the door.

  “Uh . . .” she said. She didn’t know her grandfather that well. She only saw him one week a year. What could his password be? He was very dramatic, and he loved being the Prime Wizard, and had a real pride in the Pomporromp estate . . . and himself.

  “Pomporromp!” Lennie said.

  “Really? That’s your guess? You think he’d really pick his own name?”

  “I—uh—!”

  “I’m only teasing—you’re right. He did use his own name,” the door said, swinging open.

  Lennie stumbled inside. It was the same circular room she was in when she’d eavesdropped on Poppop and Mom, with the giant screwdriver contraption in the middle and the desk in the back. But in the light of day—and without the time pressure of having to hide—she noticed things she hadn’t noticed before. For one, the perimeter of the room had hundreds of pictures, framed and hanging.

  She slowly walked around, mesmerized. There was Poppop smiling with a group of people wearing funny wigs and holding gavels. Poppop going hippo-hopping. Poppop cradling his rubber ducky staff. Poppop eating something that looked like a yellow balloon. Poppop doing a cartwheel. Poppop getting zapped by lightning. Poppop and some of Lennie’s cousins—Emma and Ethan; Bo, Danielle, Alice, and Jordan; and Julien, looking smug as always.

  She had the urge to rip that photo up. But instead she edged over to the desk hidden behind the screwdriver contraption. Lying on top was an open piece of parchment. Lennie leaned over and read:

  To Mortimer,

  My my my. A little birdie (yes, an actual bird) has just told me that you will be restarting Wizardmatch.

  ARE YOU DAFT?

  Really, that’s not a rhetorical question. I’d like to know.

  Because if these rumors are true, then you really never do learn your lessons, do you, Morty? Don’t even bother trying to write back; I am not leaving a return address because after sixty years apart, I rather enjoy not hearing anything that comes out of your face.

  Best wishes for cho
king on a potato chip,

  Humphrey de Cobblespork

  Cobblespork! Lennie giggled at that. But then her fingers brushed over his first name.

  Humphrey. . . . Humphrey . . .

  She and her brother always shouted “Uncle Humphrey” when one of them gave up in a wrestling match or a game. It was her family’s code word for surrendering. Lennie had learned it from her parents, but she had no idea that there was a real Humphrey out there somewhere. She thought it was just something her parents made up.

  Suddenly the giant screwdriver began spinning, circling down automatically like a spiral escalator. Lennie jumped back away from the desk.

  But it wasn’t Poppop. It was Estella, reading a stack of papers while she descended, the escalator twisting her around. Estella didn’t even seem to notice that Lennie was standing right there.

  “Hi, Estella,” Lennie said, and her poppop’s assistant yelped, tossing all the papers into the air in fright. They sprinkled down to the ground like the world’s most boring confetti.

  “Sorry,” Lennie said, bending down to help Estella pick up all the loose papers.

  “What are you doing here, Lennie?” Estella asked.

  “I want to talk to Poppop,” Lennie replied. “It’s important.”

  Estella swooped down to gather another paper. “Does this have anything to do with Wizardmatch?” Estella gave her a mournful glance, and Lennie flushed. She hated that look in Estella’s eye. She didn’t need Estella’s pity—she needed a fighting chance! She could prove herself . . . if only someone would let her!

  Estella sighed. “You want him to change the sibling rule, don’t you?”

  Lennie nodded.

  “I don’t think he’s going to change his mind,” Estella said softly.

  “I don’t care—I need to talk to him. Please!” she added, hating herself for begging.

  Estella gestured to the spiral escalator. “He’s up there.”

  Lennie stared up, but she couldn’t see the floor above. She took a deep breath, then started up the steps two at a time.

  “Lennie!” Estella called after her. “No matter what happens, you’ll be okay.”

  Lennie didn’t look back. At the top of the escalator, there was another door, silver this time. She knocked twice.

  “Estella—it’s too early! I told you I need my beauty sleep! This gray beard doesn’t sparkle naturally you know—”

  “Poppop, it’s me. Lennie. Can I come in?”

  “Oh! Er, yes, child!”

  She opened the door. Poppop’s room was really like an apartment—she could tell there were more rooms attached to this first one that stretched on. There was clutter everywhere, but lots of magic, too. He had pinwheels hanging from the ceiling that were whirring without any wind. On a table, tops were spinning ceaselessly. Lamps were turning themselves on and off.

  One day, this could be mine! Lennie thought, before she crashed back down to reality again and remembered that unless she changed Poppop’s mind, none of this would ever belong to her.

  Poppop yawned and gestured to a chair underneath a wide window. “Make yourself comfortable.” And without waiting for her response, he tucked himself back under the covers and started snoring.

  “Uh . . . Poppop?”

  “HUH WHA WHO’S THERE?!” he snapped.

  “Still me,” Lennie said. “I need to talk to you. Can you wake up, please?”

  There was a long pause, and Lennie had the sneaking suspicion that Poppop was trying to fall asleep just to get out of talking to her.

  She shook his shoulder until he peeked one eye open. “Are you still here?”

  Lennie hopped off the bed and towered over him. His hurtful words ran through her head on a loop.

  “Poppop,” she said, squaring her shoulders and trying to sound confident and strong. “I’ve always been really excited about magic—I’ve been practicing my invisibility every day for over a year. And I get good grades in school! And . . . and being the Prime Wizard is what I want more than anything in the world! You have to let me compete—”

  “NO.”

  “Please! Give me a chance to prove—”

  “NO.”

  “You have to let me try—”

  “Does NO mean something different in your world?” He leaned forward, grabbed his staff, and knocked it once on the floor. A book came soaring in from the other room.

  “What are you doing?” Lennie asked.

  “Consulting my dictionary,” Poppop said as the book landed in his hands. “Just to make sure people in San Francisco understand the word no.”

  “Of course I understand what no means—I’m just not taking it for an answer!”

  “If you won’t take no, then maybe one of these will do instead: Never! Nope! No sir-ee! Not on your life! Certainly not! Uh-uh! Nah! Hardly! Out of the question! Under no circumstances! No dice! Go harpooning!”

  “Go harpooning?”

  Her grandfather scratched his head. “Oh, that’s right—go FISH!” Poppop slammed the dictionary shut. “The rules are here for a reason. A good reason, might I add.”

  What good reason?! she thought, her anger swelling. No good reason! She’d heard his excuses for supporting Michael, and they were stupid.

  “Well it doesn’t seem very good to me. Because of your rule, I don’t get a chance to show you what I can do!”

  Poppop Pomporromp stood up and paced the room. “When this competition is over, only one person’s life will change forever. For everyone else, everything will have to go back to the way it was. But if I let siblings compete against each other, your relationship with your brother would never go back to normal. Once the claws come out, the scars are permanent. Get it?”

  Lennie folded her arms defiantly.

  Her grandfather sighed. “Once upon a time, I was entered in Wizardmatch. In test after test, my siblings and I fought and scraped and bickered and argued and backstabbed one another to get to the top. And when I won, Winifred, Bernadette, Ophelia, and Humphrey—”

  “Humphrey?” Lennie said, perking up.

  “My brother. The point is,” her grandfather said, “I was the best wizard among us, and my siblings were very mad and bitterly jealous of me. We never talked again, STORY OVER, THE END.”

  “But it should be ME, not him!” she blurted. And even though she truly believed and meant it, she immediately felt guilty for feeling that way. And then she felt guilty for feeling guilty because she couldn’t really help how she felt. And she felt guilty for feeling guilty about feeling guilty . . . and so on until her guilt was just spinning all around her like a tornado. No . . . a guiltnado.

  “I—I just don’t understand why he was chosen,” she tried to explain. “It doesn’t make sense. My powers are stronger.”

  Her poppop shook his head.

  Lennie took a deep breath. All this time she had been telling him about her talents . . . but maybe she had to show him. Once he saw her potential with his own eyes, he’d realize how unfair it was to keep her from competing in Wizardmatch.

  Leaning up against the wall was Poppop’s magic staff—the very thing that helped him harness his immense powers. Lennie edged over to it. She put her hand out and touched the smooth bark—

  “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!”

  Poppop stretched his arms out like taffy—just like Perrie could. His hands zipped toward Lennie and jerked the staff out of her hands so violently that it left a splinter in her palm.

  “DO NOT!” he bellowed, his face turning purple and three forehead veins bulging. “NEVER. TOUCH. THE STAFF. NEVER EVER NEVER EVER NEVER EVER EVER EVER. IT IS NOT A TOY—IT IS A POWERFUL MAGICAL TOOL THAT COULD BLAST YOUR EYEBALLS RIGHT OUT OF YOUR HEAD.”

  “I . . . I just wanted to show you some magic,” Lennie whispered, trying desperately to keep her voice from wobbling.
No one—not even her parents or her teachers—had ever yelled at her like that before.

  “We are done here,” Poppop said icily. “You will not be competing in Wizardmatch, but you will stand obediently in the wings and cheer on your brother. Support him if he wins; comfort him if he loses.”

  “But what about me?”

  “There is no I in family,” Poppop said. And then, after a moment of silence, he exclaimed, “Ah, wait, yes there is! What I’m trying to say,” his voice sounding suddenly harsher, like the edge of a jagged tooth, “is the world doesn’t revolve around you, Lennie.”

  Lennie sucked a deep breath in. Her eyes stung with the tears she dared not shed in front of Poppop Pomporromp. She pushed past him and fled from his room, down the spiral escalator, and out the chamber doors. Not at all stopping . . . not even when Estella called, “Lennie!” in her wake.

  She couldn’t talk to her poppop. She wouldn’t talk to her mom. Her aunts and uncles were busy with all of their own children. Her dad was far away. There was no one left to listen to her—no one who really cared.

  She picked the splinter out of her palm with her nails—then skateboarded down to her room. But when she walked in, she was not alone.

  Michael was sitting on the bed, tying his shoelaces. For a brief moment, she stood in the doorway, wondering what her poppop saw in Michael that he didn’t see in her.

  “Lennie!” Michael said, startled. “I almost didn’t see you!”

  “Here I am,” she said softly. It took everything she had not to cry.

  “I’m about to leave!” Michael said. “Mom is training me in one minute.”

  It was like a sack of stones had plunged into her stomach. Training was her thing. Now Michael was going to steal that, too? “Training you?” she said.

  “You know, for Wizardmatch!” He hopped off the bed and flexed his muscles. “Mom says I’ve got to be in tip-top shape, so we’re running drills and exercises and stuff. Just like you always do! It’s so amazing, isn’t it?”

  “Amazing,” Lennie said flatly.

  Michael didn’t seem to notice. “I’m so important now! I don’t have time to even breathe anymore! I don’t even have time to go to the bathroom! Mom thinks I have a real shot at winning this thing. Oh no! I’m late!” he said, looking outside. “Got to go! See you later, Len!” He dashed out of the room without a second glance at her, and she rushed to lock the door behind him.