The Road to Nevermore Read Online Free PDF Page B

with a froglike “Harrumph!” but Gloom
     saw her twinge.
    “Now, now, nothing to feel bad about. I do like snoops. Please call me Shadewick. Or better yet, Gloomy. That’s what my nastiest
     friends call me.”
    Miss Chippendale blanched. “I’m here strictly on business.” She glanced around suspiciously and then she pulled her hood over
     her head. “I prefer to make this quick. I have a proposition for you.”
    Gloom folded his arms.
    “How would you like your old position back?”
    Shadewick Gloom frowned. “I can only think of two things that would stand in the way of that. One is the Moral Authority’s
     High Council.”
    “No worries there. As head of the Investigative Branch, I can take care of them.”
    Shadewick circled around her, rubbing his fingertips together. “My goodness, you’ve grown powerful. The other obstacle would
     be my old apprentice, Grim Bones.”
    Miss Chippendale’s smile was thin as a sliver. “There you have it. You get rid of him, and you will have your full rank back,
     plus all those other benefits you’re hungry for. I shall be glad to look the other way, so long as you’re discreet.”
    Shadewick chuckled. “Well, hasn’t this day turned ducky!”
    “Uhm, there are only two other tiny matters beyond taking care of Grim Bones.” Miss Chippendale clasped her hands behind her
     back.
    Again, Gloom waited.
    Chippendale’s effort at a casual smile shook her double chins. “I need two children brought over to the Afterlife. You can
     do whatever you’d like with them, so long as they disappear.”

Chapter 6
A Departing Soul

    Time had stopped.
    Billy knew only one hand that held that kind of power: Uncle Grim’s. He’d been granted that ability to help him with the impossible
     task of being in too many places in too short a time.
    Suspended seconds later, a stallion with a starlight mane galloped through the tumble-down cottage wall. It was Fleggs, and
     the heroic skeleton sitting astride was Uncle Grim. The skeleton reined the horse to a stop. He wore his usual Cloak of Doom,
     and the grin of an uncle very happy to see his nephew. Grim’s bones danced with the same blue glow and black sparks of energy
     that had lit Billy up moments before.
    As he dismounted, he said, “My boy, it’s so good to see you—quite unexpected, though.” Grim clapped a black-gloved hand on
     Billy’s shoulder. “You’re looking very healthy.” His eyes crinkled in a deeper smile.
    Martha and Millicent were bathed in the glow that danced between Billy and his uncle.
The plan worked,
Billy thought,
but Millicent’s going to fuss about missing the excitement.
    Uncle Grim reached around Billy to pluck a dim orb out of Mordecai’s chest. Most souls glow with color, but this one was drab
     as sandstone. Grim flicked the ball into the air, transforming it into a ghostly version of the old man. But before it floated
     back down to the bed, Billy started in, “I trapped Pickerel. He’s in the magical vase. Now they’re after Pete and maybe Millicent’s
     parents, and —”
    “Slow down, my boy. I can keep time stopped—there’s no hurry.” Interlocking his fingers at his waist, he gave Billy his full
     attention.
    Billy led Grim through the story, one tangle at a time. When he was finished, Grim’s expression matched his name. “I’m afraid
     we’ll have to sort this out straightaway. Too many Afterlifers are paying for Pickerel’s disappearance.”
    Billy looked away.
    With a gentle caress to the chin, Grim turned Billy’s head to face him. “Don’t worry, you did right to trap Pickerel, and
     you’re doing right by telling me now.” He guided the boy away from the bed. “The best thing to do would be to tell my boss,
     Oversecretary Underhill. He’s a member of the Moral Authority’s High Council.”
    Seeming to remember why he’d come in the first place, Grim glanced over his shoulder. Mordecai’s spirit had gotten out of
     bed and was drifting across the