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in the toilet.
    “I guess they pollute the environment, too,” Vincent had said as he wiped his mouth. Whenever Chanteuse talked about big corporations, usually it was because they were damaging Mother Earth.
    “Actually, no,” she’d said. “Their environmental record is spotless. It’s the one good thing I can say for them.”
    “So they’re not all bad?”
    “Not all bad,” Chanteuse had admitted, “but certainly not good.”
    “I thought you were dead-set against those guys,” Vincent said.
    “I am,” Chanteuse said, “but it was the only job I could find, and I need to support my mother.”
    “Right,” Vincent said, making a mental note to keep his parents away from that superstore at all costs. “I just hope they don’t treat you as badly as … hey, it’s Big Tom.”
    And indeed it was. Chanteuse’s house backed onto a park, and through that park went a bicycle path. Walking along that path, his head down and his pace sluggish, was Big Tom.
    “He’s upset,” Chanteuse said. “His aura is dark blue.”
    “I’d better check on him,” Vincent said. “May I leave through the back?”
    “Certainly, Vincent,” Chanteuse said, then smiled brightly. “Thank you for stopping by. It was wonderful to see you again.”
    Vincent felt himself blush again. He offered her an awkward wave, then turned and ran through the bushes. A minute later, Vincent stood on the bike path beside his friend.
    “Big Tom,” he said, when his friend didn’t immediately notice him. “What’s wrong?”
    “Huh? Oh, hi Vincent,” Big Tom said, turning to look at him. When he did so, Vincent saw his friend had a fresh black eye.
    “Woah! What happened?” he asked.
    “What do you think?” Big Tom replied. “Barnaby Wilkins got me again.”
    “He did?” Vincent said. “Man, usually you’re too fast for him.”
    It was true. What Big Tom lacked in size and strength, he made up for in speed. Bullies who wanted a piece of him had to catch him first, and for many this simply wasn’t possible.
    “One of his bodyguards held me down,” Big Tom said.
    “Oh,” said Vincent, who’d had a brush himself with Barnaby Wilkins’s two minders. “Which one was it? Bruno, or Boots?”
    “Bruno,” said Big Tom. “I hate him. He’s the worst one.”
    Vincent could only nod in agreement. The school board wasn’t exactly crazy about any student having two bodyguards with them at all times, but Mr. Wilkins had convinced them to see things his way. Alphega Corp. provided funding for the school and food for the cafeteria, so when an Alphega executive like Francis Wilkins wanted a favor for his son, the school board really couldn’t say no.
    And when a teacher saw those bodyguards holding students down for Barnaby to beat, all they could do was look the other way.
    “Did Barnaby have a reason this time,” Vincent asked, “or was it just a random beating?”
    “He was gloating about winning the science fair,” Big Tom said, “so I said he only won because his dad bought him all that high-tech stuff. That’s when Bruno grabbed me.”
    “Are you hurt?” Vincent asked.
    “He got me good in the face,” Big Tom said, pointing to his black eye. “And he slugged me in the stomach, too.”
    “I’m sorry to hear that,” Vincent said. “Why don’t you come over to my place for a while? My family won’t be back for a few hours, and I’ve got something really cool to tell you.”
    “You aren’t telling him anything.”
    Vincent recognized the voice instantly. He spun around and looked down, and saw Grimbowl staring up at him.
    “What is it?” Big Tom asked.
    “Keep your mouth shut if you know what’s good for you,” Grimbowl told Vincent. “You’re coming with us.”
    “Oh, am I?” Vincent said, assuming a defensive stance.
    “Yes, you are,” Grimbowl said, and Vincent suddenly realized they were surrounded by elves. There were about two dozen of them at least, blending in with the grass around