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Rupert nodded. “All right, I promise.”

The Storm Witch and the Nebulous Witch both closed their eyes.

“Protection! Invisibility! Safety!” they shouted together.

“Unlimited supply of chips!” Witchling Two added.

And then they all snapped their fingers.

Rupert cowered as the house shook and thousands of whips rained from the ceiling. The Storm Witch and the Nebulous Witch clicked their tongues disapprovingly and snapped their fingers — the whips disappeared.

“You, boy,” the Storm Witch snorted. “If you’re really going to help her train, then make sure she practices her spells. She’ll never pass with ruddy magic like that.”

Hiding Rupert

WHEN THE STORM WITCH AND THE NEBULOUS Witch left, Witchling Two sat with her elbows on the table and her face in her fists. “If the Fairfoul Witch knows who you are, then she’s probably on her way here. And you’re in big trouble.”

“Good thing Storm and Nebby did a spell, then.”

“Storm and Nebby put a protection spell around your house, which should hold out against the Fairfoul Witch, but I want to make sure that you are hidden.” She inched toward him eagerly, her eyebrows raised and her mouth curved into a sly grin.

“No…” Rupert said. “No, no, no!”

“I just want to do one itty-bitty invisibility spell!”

“Not a chance!”

Witchling Two leaped to her feet. “Rupert, listen. You are as visible as a flamingo in a desert! I think I know the perfect spell….”

“Get away from me with your spells!”

“Aww, come on. You told me I needed more practice, right?”

“But not on me! I’ll let you do a potion,” said Rupert. “That’s it.

“No time for a potion,” Witchling Two muttered. “Invisibility potions have to simmer for three days. And the sand potion has to sit for five days, remember?”

“Then, just shower me with sand! What about that?”

“We don’t have any sand around right now. And besides, a spell will last longer.”

“No,” Rupert said. “A thousand million billion times no.”

Witchling Two solemnly shuffled her feet. “I understand,” she sniffed. “I suppose I’ll just fail my Bar Exam now because my apprentice wouldn’t let me try out any spells. In four days, they’ll take away my magic and force me into exile, never to be seen again.” She dramatically hid her face in her hands and whimpered.

“I can’t let you do a spell on me! What would happen if you mess up?”

Witchling Two perked up. “But there’s no way this one can go wrong! Rupert, I swear! I’m choosing a long phrase so my magic can’t confuse itself and produce something that sounds similar.”

Rupert snorted. This logic sounded wrong — so very wrong.

“Now hold still. This is foolproof.”

“Hold on — I didn’t say yes! Hey—”

Witchling Two snapped her fingers. “Make it so he can’t be seen,” she said. “Can’t be seen. Can’t be seen.” She snapped again.

Rupert didn’t dare open his eyes, but then, he didn’t feel any different. Maybe this is just like the potion, he thought. I don’t feel any different, but it still works. Maybe I’m invisible—

Witchling Two screamed.

Rupert opened his eyes and the first thing he saw were green hands. His green hands.

He ran for a mirror, and he stood in front of it, watching his face turn from a peachy color to a pale lime color to a deep emerald color. He looked like a giant fruit fly.

“WHAT DID YOU DO?” he shouted. “WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?”

Witchling Two whimpered, pulling her hair over her head to hide her freckly face. “I said can’t be seen,” she said, cowering away from Rupert’s glare. “But you’re turning green.

“I can see that!” Rupert snapped. “I thought you said this was foolproof!”

“Well, I thought a longer sentence would do the trick… less chance of sounding like something else.”

“That wasn’t even a very long phrase, Witchling Two!”

She squeaked. “I’m sorry!”

Rupert threw his hands in the air. “Well, that’s just great. Now I’m more visible than ever! Please tell me you can fix this!”

“I’ll just call Nebby and Storm,” Witchling Two said, reaching for the telephone. “They’ll fix you right back to norm—”

BAM.

Even from the basement, Rupert and Witchling Two could hear the front door bang open.

The Name

WITCHLING TWO POINTED TO RUPERT AND THEN the table in frantic, jerking motions, which was her way of saying Hide.

Rupert held up his green arm and pointed to it, which was his way of saying What am I supposed to do about my green skin?

Witchling Two shook her head. That doesn’t matter right now.

Rupert silently stomped his foot. Of course it matters! I look like asparagus!

Witchling Two smiled. No, you look more like a string bean.

Rupert cocked his head. What’s the difference?

Witchling Two raised an eyebrow. I don’t actually know.

The wooden step at the top of the basement stairs creaked.

Rupert ducked under the table and hid his head in his knees.

PLUNK came the sound of a foot on the steps.

PLUNK THUD came the sound of another two steps.

PLUNK THUD PLUNK THUD PLUNK THUD came the sound of someone climbing down all the basement stairs.

“I–I can’t explain,” Witchling Two said.

Under the table Rupert shook his head. She was supposed to say that she could explain, not that she couldn’t.

Witchling Two cleared her throat. “M-Mrs. Campbell, I—”

Rupert froze in horror. The only thing worse than being found by the Fairfoul Witch was being found by his mother. She could not find out that he ran out of school early. She could not find out that he was Witchling Two’s apprentice. But mostly, she could not find out that he had green skin.

“Why are you in my basement?” Rupert’s mother asked. “What was your name again?”

“Erm,” Witchling Two said.

Please, Rupert begged in his head. Please, for pity’s sake! Please don’t say your name is Witchy! He wiggled his toes, hoping that he could send Witchling Two his thought waves.

“Sandy,” Witchling Two said. “My name is absolutely, positively, without a doubt Sandy. Sandy, Sandy, Sandy — it rolls nicely off the tongue — like kerplunckle and mollycoddle and pollywallydoodle. Sandy.”

“Sandy, darling, how did you get in here? Did Rupert let you in? Where is he?” Footsteps got dangerously close to the table, and Rupert closed his eyes.

“AH! Mrs. Campbell!” Witchling Two said, running toward the table, too. “Why don’t we have some more of that tea again? Upstairs? Yes? Lovely? All right? Let’s go!” Rupert heard sounds of shoe scuffling, and Rupert could see the shadows of his mother and Witchling Two inch even closer to where he was hiding.

“Why is there a cauldron on the table? And why are there — oh sweet cream cheese—what is in those jars? Are you and Rupert pretending to be witches?”