The Slither Sisters

FOURTEEN





The auditorium at Lovecraft Middle School seated five hundred at the orchestra level and another one hundred and fifty in the balcony. The room’s most stunning feature was a large glass dome; it cast a warm, natural light across the stage. Under normal circumstances, it would have been a pleasant and relaxing space.

But for Robert the circumstances were anything but normal. He sat at a table in the center of the stage, sipping nervously from a glass of water, watching students and teachers file into their chairs. It was the start of first period, and the debate assembly would begin in a few moments.

Sarah Price sat on Robert’s left. She smiled at the audience and waved to some friends in the fourth row. “You should have joined us while you had the chance,” she whispered to Robert, still smiling and waving. “You will pay for your betrayal. Your surrender will be especially painful.”

Robert didn’t answer. He knew that Sarah was telling the truth. He had heard enough things about Crawford Tillinghast to know that the man had a flair for cruel and unusual punishment.

Howard Mergler was seated on Robert’s right. He had come to the debate armed with a solar calculator, five newly sharpened pencils, and several notebooks’ worth of ideas and arguments, all of them meticulously tabbed and cross-referenced.

“Well, good luck to you,” Howard said, clapping him on the shoulder. “May the best candidate win.”

“Thanks,” Robert said. “And same to you. It seems like you’ve really done your homework.”

“Not that it matters,” Howard shrugged. “You’ll see. But I’ll give it my best shot anyway.”

Principal Slater and Ms. Lavinia had seats near the front of the auditorium, and somehow Glenn scored a seat in the first row. The words ROBERT ARTHUR FOR STUDENT COUNCIL PRESIDENT were scrawled in black magic marker across the front of his T-shirt, and he was holding a large cardboard sign that read ROBERT FOR PREZ—HE’S AWESOME!

Mr. Loomis stood behind a tall podium decorated with the Lovecraft school crest. “Please take your seats, everyone,” he said. “We’d like to get started.”

Robert felt his stomach do a little flip. He’d never liked speaking in front of groups, and he’d never addressed a group as large as this one. As people settled into their chairs, he glimpsed Karina lingering at the back of the auditorium. She smiled and mouthed the words “Good luck.”

“Welcome, students and faculty,” Mr. Loomis began. “It is my great pleasure to introduce the candidates for student council president: Sarah Price—”

At the mere mention of Sarah’s name, the audience burst into excited applause and a chant of “Sa-rah! Sa-rah!” echoed through the room. Mr. Loomis waved his arms and called for quiet, to no avail. It wasn’t until Principal Slater stood up—and glared at everyone in the auditorium—that students finally settled down.

“As I was saying,” Mr. Loomis continued, “we have Sarah Price, Howard Mergler, and Robert Arthur.”

“Let’s GO, Rob-ERT!” Glenn chanted, pounding a cadence on the armrest of his chair. “Let’s GO, Rob-ERT!” But none of the other students joined in the chant, and Glenn’s voice trailed off.

“The first question goes to Howard Mergler,” Mr. Loomis began. “If you win the election, what will be your first action as student council president?”

Howard offered a four-part answer involving healthier school lunches, faster computer equipment, longer after-school hours for library patrons, and improved access for handicapped students. Robert liked all these ideas but found his attention wandering as Howard spoke. There was some polite applause when Howard finished, mostly from the teachers in the audience.

“I’ll pose the same question to Sarah Price,” Mr. Loomis said, and again the audience erupted with applause at the mention of her name. “If you win the election, Sarah, what will be your first action as student council president?”

Sarah beamed at the crowd. “I’m going to give you the best, because Lovecraft students deserve the best! You’re smart. You’re bright. You’re good-looking. Why should you settle for less? You deserve the best classes. The best teachers. The best schedules. The best dances. If you want the best, vote for the best. Vote Sarah Price. Thanks, guys, you’re the best!”

Robert listened in disbelief. Sarah had answered the question without actually answering the question. She had simply complimented everyone in the audience. Yet again the applause was overwhelming. Students were on their feet chanting “Sa-rah! Sa-rah!” and Mr. Loomis spent five minutes shushing everyone.

“Same question to Robert Arthur,” Mr. Loomis continued. “If you win the election, Robert, what will be your first action as student council president?”

The auditorium fell silent.

Robert stared out at the audience. Hundreds of faces stared back. A few kids were already snickering. He paused to take a sip of water. He thought of his campaign slogans, of Ms. Lavinia’s poster messages. “Um, I guess I’ll protect you?”

The audience laughed, and Robert’s face flushed. Of course they laughed. How was this scrawny ninety-five-pound kid going to protect anyone from anything?

Even Mr. Loomis was smiling. “Protect me?”

“I’ll protect the school.”

“You’re allowed two minutes for your answer,” Mr. Loomis told him. “Maybe you should elaborate.”

But Robert didn’t know what else to say. He couldn’t deliver a fake answer like Sarah Price, he couldn’t articulate a smart answer like Howard Mergler, and he certainly couldn’t tell the truth. He had only one card left to play—so he removed it from his pocket and read the words Warren had written:

“K’yaloh f’ah Zhenz’koh.”

“Excuse me?” Mr. Loomis asked.

Robert leaned forward into his microphone. “K’yaloh f’ah Zhenz’koh.”

Sarah glared at him. “Don’t you dare,” she hissed.

Mr. Loomis furrowed his brow. “Robert, I can’t make out what you’re saying. Move back from the microphone and try it again.”

“K’yaloh f’ah Zhenz’koh.”

Nothing happened. It didn’t work. The students in the audience were cracking up. It was their first good look at Robert Arthur and he was spouting gibberish like an idiot.

Mr. Loomis left his podium and walked over to the table. “We must be having technical difficulties because I can’t understand a word you’re—”

He was interrupted by an ear-splitting screech. Robert’s water glass shattered, spraying shards across the table. Students collapsed in their seats, crying out in pain, covering their ears.

Robert looked up to the empty balcony and there, hovering above the last row of seats, was a swirling black vortex. An enormous creature emerged from it, flying out over the auditorium. It was some kind of giant bird, swooping toward the stage.

Sarah ran screaming into the audience.

Howard fumbled for his crutches.

Robert froze.

This was Warren’s brilliant idea? Summoning a giant bird to attack the entire school?

As the creature hurtled toward him, Robert realized it wasn’t entirely a bird—it had the head of a monstrous woman. Like the harpies from ancient mythology. It flew with its giant talons extended, ready to pluck Robert off the ground. When he was close enough to see its eyes, he dove out of his chair, knocking Howard Mergler onto the floor and dragging him to safety beneath the table.

“What is that thing?” Howard shouted.

“I have no idea,” Robert said.

Out in the audience, pandemonium ensued. The harpy was circling the theater in preparation for a second assault, beating its filthy wings and raining dusty feathers upon the assembly below. Robert looked for Glenn, for Karina, for Ms. Lavinia—anyone who could tell him what to do. But the faces were all a blur. He was on his own.

“Remain calm!” Mr. Loomis shouted into his microphone. “Please proceed to the nearest exit in a calm and orderly fashion!”

The winged beast heard Mr. Loomis and shrieked again, changing course and diving toward the teacher with its talons extended. Robert shouted at Mr. Loomis to get down, to get out of the way; the harpy’s claws were aimed straight at his face.

It wasn’t fair. Mr. Loomis had gone out of his way to be nice to Robert, to make sure he was doing well at Lovecraft. And now he was going to get hurt, all because Robert had summoned some stupid monster from Tillinghast.

He scrambled to his feet, reached behind the curtain, and grabbed one of the music stands used by the orchestra. It was four feet tall and surprisingly heavy, with all the heft of an aluminum baseball bat. He elbowed Mr. Loomis out of the way and then swung the music stand with all his might, striking the harpy in the side. The creature released another ear-splitting shriek and soared skyward, toward the glass dome in the ceiling above the stage.



“What’s happening?” Mr. Loomis asked.

“Move!” Robert shouted, taking his teacher by the arm and dragging him to the table where Howard was still hiding. “Get down! Quick! Cover your—”

Before he could say “ears,” the harpy crashed through the ceiling, shattering the glass dome into thousands of deadly projectiles. Some were as thin as fingernails; others were as wide and sharp as the blades of a guillotine; all of them came raining down on Robert and Mr. Loomis. He pushed his teacher underneath the table and squeezed in beside him, just as the first shards hit the stage. Robert closed his eyes and covered his face with his hands. The noise was cacophonous and seemed to last forever, like a thunderstorm that wouldn’t end, a thousand broken windows shattering all around them.

And then, silence.

Robert peeled his hands away from his face. Except for their tiny sanctuary beneath the table, the stage was covered with mounds of shattered glass, piled high like sands on a beach.

Tiny flecks of glass were embedded in the backs of Robert’s hands, but otherwise he was unharmed.

So were Howard and Mr. Loomis. Robert grabbed Howard’s forearm crutches and helped the boy to his feet.

“Is it gone?” Howard asked.

Robert glanced up at the ceiling and saw a gaping hole where the dome had been. “I think so.”

And somewhere in these moments, he realized he was still being watched. The auditorium was still full of people. All of his classmates and teachers had witnessed the spectacle in astonished disbelief. And there was Ms. Lavinia sitting among them, hands folded in her lap and looking rather pleased with phase two of her plan.