The Treasure Keepers (Something Wickedly Weird)
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The conclusion to this darkly funny series, Something Wickedly Weird, has it all: eerie black-and-white illustrations, swashbuckling pirates, werewolf showdowns, plenty of danger, and, best of all, secrets revealed.
Berkeley off, and this in turn sent Olive into a fit of belly giggles. “We won’t laugh,” said Stanley, glaring at the young ones. “We promise.” “It’s the pike,” Annabelle began. “The one in the glass case in the hallway.” Everyone was silent. Stanley stared at the young ones, expecting more giggles, but no, they were deadly serious. “He spoke to me. He said that Stanley had taken to not listening to his advice any more and that he very much wanted to pass him some information. It’s stupid, I
know. I wasn’t sure if I’d only imagined it. But it’s happened again since.” “He spoke to us too,” said Berkeley and Olive at the same time. They looked at each other and then back at everybody else. “We thought we were dreaming.” “Don’t worry, Annie,” said Stanley. “I know for sure that the pike on the wall speaks. I have taken advice from him in the past. The last time I spoke with him, I was growing tired of his riddles. One thing is for sure: if he is desperate to tell us something, we must
“Come on,” said Stanley. “We may as well get started.” He ran to his room and uncovered the secret panel that held the shining silver casket, took it out from its home, and dusted it down. By now the night was black, and as far as the Rock was concerned, werewolf status was on high alert. The Alliance would have to be extra careful to avoid the lookouts, especially since they were building a fire. A small procession of silky black silhouettes filed its way out onto the moor through the back
lay at their feet. Berkeley took a stick and opened it up. Stanley took the stick gently from Berkeley and separated the ashes to cool them. A gentle breeze blew across the moor. Within a few minutes they were each able to take a handful of the gray dust. “It doesn’t look like it would make any difference to anything,” said Annabelle, staring into her hands. “We must trust the pike,” said Stanley. He sent everyone to different parts of the moor, and each in turn spread out their own share.
became aware that he had taken on more than he could manage. Mrs. Carelli had said that if Stanley wanted to bring Mac into his own house there was nothing she could do about it, but she wouldn’t cook him a meal or make him a drink, nor would she clean his room or attend to any of his needs. Her husband, Victor, had taken the same stance. They wanted to show their disapproval of the way MacDowell had accepted their hospitality, leaving just like that without so much as a good-bye. “Disgusting!”