The Trap by Michael Grant Read Free Book Online Page B

have to give up,” Mack said to Jarrah.
    Mack’s phone rang. He jumped about three feet in the air. “Aaah!”
    â€œTwo . . . three . . . seven . . . nine!” Jarrah said.
    â€œWhat are you counting?” Mack pulled out his phone. The display showed his home number. No way he could answer it, no way.
    Today Mack’s teacher said, “Where is your English paper, Mr. MacAvoy?” I said, “In England?” The teacher sent me a very hard look. “Your English paper, Mr. MacAvoy. The one I assigned last week.” This was confusing, so I said, “ I don’t understand ass sign.” So now I have extra detention. Double detained. I think I had better call Mack about the English paper. I hope he’s not busy.
    â€œThe wall! Look at it!”
    Mack turned away from the advancing guards. The decorated wall wasn’t just pretty tile. Jarrah was right: nine brightly colored dragons cavorted down the hundred-foot length of it.
    â€œHuh,” Stefan said, but he wasn’t appreciating the wall. He was noticing that some small shadows were creeping up behind the guards, even as the guards were edging closer.
    â€œBack off, you quivering jelly bags of mucus!” one of the Tong Elves said. “They’re ours!”
    It’s possible the guards understood them. But it’s more likely they were just startled to see that they were surrounded.
    By elves in lederhosen.
    That would startle most people.
    â€œWhat?” Mack yelled into the phone. “Who is it? I’m kind of busy!”
    â€œHi, Mack! It’s me, your golem!”
    â€œWhat?” Mack shrieked.
    â€œI’m looking for the English paper. Do you know where you might have put it? It’s already late, and our teacher—”
    â€œWhat? What? ”
    â€œThe English paper—”
    â€œI’m kind of busy right now!” Mack screamed. “It’s in my laptop. The folder marked ‘Useless Stuff.’”
    â€œThanks! Bye-bye, real Mack.”
    The flashlights all swung around to highlight the new threat. Probably seventeen or eighteen—Mack wasn’t really concerned with counting—Tong Elves, each armed with a chubby billy club, formed a menacing semicircle.
    â€œThe walking human slime are ours,” the elf leader snarled. “So step aside in the name of the Pale Queen, you sock puppets stuffed with pig filth!”
    One of the guards evidently understood this well enough. He translated for his comrades. Suddenly the guards—who had been pretty determined to catch Mack and his friends—found a whole different motivation.
    The guards wore green uniforms with white belts that went around their waists and over their right shoulders. They had brass buttons and red epaulets, and the only weapons they had were their flashlights. Mack was pretty sure he was going to witness an elf-on-guard massacre.
    But then one of the guards shouted an order. Moving as one, the guards holstered their flashlights, laid their hats carefully aside on the cobblestones, and adopted martial arts stances.
    â€œKee- yah !”
    The guards leaped!
    The Tong Elves rushed!
    It was kung fu fists versus Tong Elf clubs.
    â€œCool. They should totally make a game of this,” Stefan said. Then, “Owww. My chest kind of hurts.”
    â€œThe nine dragons in Beijing,” Jarrah shouted, to be heard over the sounds of kicks and grunts and kung fu punches. “It wasn’t the hotel. It was this wall!”
    â€œYeah,” Mack agreed. “But when this fight’s over, we won’t be either place.”
    Jarrah stared with amazing concentration, totally ignoring the fight that raged behind her.
    â€œThe Magnificent Twelve,” she said.
    â€œNot yet we’re not,” Mack said.
    â€œIn Vargran. ‘The Magnificent Twelve’ in Vargran! I remember seeing this at Uluru. It was one of the keys to