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Authors: Paul Durham

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Harmless read the concern on Rye's face and flashed a reassuring smile. “Nothing to worry about for the time being,” he said. “But I may stay around the village for a while longer, just to make sure nothing comes of it.

“Besides,” Harmless said with a wink, “winter is a poor season for adventure anyway.”

Two figures appeared, working their way down the dirt path from Troller's Hill. Shady's ears perked up and he sniffed at the wind.

Lottie O'Chanter skipped along the path, Mona Monster tucked under her arm. Abby O'Chanter wore a red dress and a smile. She carried a large wicker basket.

“What do you suppose she has in there?” Harmless said.

“Your birthday breakfast, of course,” Rye said. “Make sure you compliment her on it. She's been cooking all night.”

Harmless smiled and placed an arm around Rye's shoulder. “I think this is indeed the finest day we've seen in some time.”

EPILOGUE

What Tomorrow Brings Us

“I
s that snow?” Rye asked.

“It's but a little flurry,” Harmless said.

Rye watched the first flakes of winter fall past her nose, then her feet, as they drifted down toward the cobblestones of Market Street far below.

“Won't the snow make this too dangerous?” she asked.

“Just more challenging,” Harmless said.

Rye and Harmless stood on the edge of the rooftop. Rising above and below them were the twisty, thorny rooftops of the shops and dwellings on Market Street. Jagged chimneys, gutters, and decorative arches jutted out from unexpected places.

Harmless waved his hand at the horizon of roofs. “There's a path out there. Once you've found and navigated it often enough, your legs and feet will find new paths all their own. Eventually, you won't even need your eyes.”

Rye looked skeptical.

“You've come so far since I last saw you up here,” Harmless said, and with it Rye fully realized what she had recently begun to suspect. A certain masked gargoyle had been watching over her for a long time.

“But we can wait if you're not ready,” Harmless added. There was both patience and a dare in his voice.

Rye didn't answer right away.

Finally she said, “Where do we start?”

“Right there.” Harmless pointed to a tile roof on the opposite side of the street.

Rye looked down. Villagers and merchants scurried by four stories below, oblivious to their presence high above.

“Is there a ladder?”

“The Spoke is not the only way to traverse the village in secret,” Harmless said. “You've learned to crawl its tunnels. Don't you think it's about time you learned to fly?”

Rye looked wide-eyed at the open air between them and the other roof.

“Harmless, bad things happen when I try to do stuff like this.”

“Do you have your anklet?” Harmless asked.

“Yes.”

“Do you trust me?”

Rye hesitated. “Yes.”

“The worst that can happen is you fall,” Harmless said. “And we both know you always get up.”

Harmless smiled and pulled the hood of his cloak over his head. “Hoods on.”

Rye tucked her hair under her hood.

Harmless took five strides back from the edge of the roof. Rye followed.

Harmless extended his hand. For a moment, just a split second, the green circular tattoo on his palm appeared to dance.

Rye reached up and took his hand. His grip warmed her whole body.

“On the count of three,” Harmless said. “One, two . . .”

They began running. As Rye's feet pushed off the edge, a smile stretched across her face. Harmless's smile was even wider.

The O'Chanters leaped off the roof, through the air, and let luck guide their landing.

 

The End

Tam's Pocket Glossary of Drowning Mouth Speak

Assessment:
Every villager's least favorite time of year. During Assessment, Earl Longchance's officials visit and inspect each and every place of business, levying fines for noncompliance with the Laws of Longchance. Assessment keeps the village's (and the Earl's) coffers full for a rainy day. These days, the Earl's reserves are rich enough to handle a decade of monsoons.

 

Beyond the Shale:
Many a villager longs for the tranquility of the woods and a nap under the trees, surrounded by gentle woodland creatures. Nap under one of this forest's ominous pines and you're likely to get your eyes pecked out by a buzzard.

 

Bog Noblins:
An off-color village joke:
What has bad breath, one eye, and likes to eat children?
Answer:
A Bog Noblin with a stick in its eye.
Villagers' comedic sensibilities still need some refinement.

 

Cackle Fruit:
Nothing fancy, just chicken eggs. They also happen to be Lottie O'Chanter's favorite food.

 

Daughters of Longchance:
Known for their poor cooking, lack of any noticeable sense of humor, and high-pitched voices that traumatize dogs and infants. However, given their status in society, they are useful to have around during Assessment and are therefore highly desired brides.

 

Gloaming Beasts:
These creatures are most likely to be spotted, if at all, stalking through the twilight in search of their unwitting prey. Gloaming Beasts are masters of disguise and clever, wanton killers when inspired. Fortunately, they find humans to be oddly amusing, and may sometimes even adopt one or more as pets.

 

Hooks:
A popular card game that involves the exchange of cards through a series of bluffs, cajoles, and threats until, one by one, players are eliminated as they “swallow the hook.” The best Hooks players can become quite wealthy—assuming they can find anyone willing to play with them. It is widely known that success in Hooks is directly related to one's ability to cheat.

Link Rat:
A link rat and a feral skunk are likely to receive the same reception at a villager's door, but a good link rat knows every nook, cranny, and hiding place in Drowning. The link rat's services can be indispensable to a villager who has a need to disappear.

 

Luck Uglies:
Who? Never heard of them. Really. Not the foggiest clue who you're talking about.

 

O'There:
The rich and prosperous hub of the Kingdom located on the far side of the sea. Nobody in Drowning has actually been O'There, but it's said that even the sewers smell like apricots, all the men wear shoes, and the maidens have all their teeth.

 

Pigshanks:
A bad word. Use it, and your mother is likely to scrub your tongue with soap and a horse brush.

 

The Pot:
Lottie O'Chanter's chamber pot. The youngest O'Chanter has proven difficult to potty train and is just as likely to squat in a pillowcase, a boot, or Abby O'Chanter's herb garden.

 

The Shambles:
The roughest district in the village sits along the banks of the River Drowning, bathed in a broth of grog, bogwash, and sailor sweat. The neighborhood is home to the Dead Fish Inn: “where nobody knows your name”—and that's just how its guests like it.

 

The Shivers:
Neither cure nor cause of this epidemic disease has been determined, although theories have included Bog Noblin bites, going out in the rain without a hat, and pooping too close to the town water supply.

 

The Treaty of Stormwell:
Legend says that the written peace treaty between the Luck Uglies and the House of Longchance earned its name because, in a final act of defiance, Grimshaw the Black (then High Chieftain of the Luck Uglies) threw the hat of Earl Ascot Longchance down a stormwell just before signing.

 

Turkeyhole:
Another bad word. Call someone a turkeyhole and you're likely to get a foot in yours.

 

Wirry:
A mischievous ghost or spirit. Wirries are often said to haunt basements, attics, graveyards, and other places where children don't belong.

 

Wirry Scares:
These wooden stick people were originally built by rural villagers to scare away wirries, Bog Noblins, and other nasties that go bump in the night. Over time, Wirry Scares have been adopted as traditional Black Moon Party decorations, and for the most part scare only those Black Moon revelers who've drunk too much wine.

About the Author

PAUL DURHAM
was raised in Massachusetts and attended college and law school in Boston. He now lives in New Hampshire with his wife, two daughters, and an enormous bushy creature the local animal shelter identified as a cat. He writes in an abandoned chicken coop at the edge of a swamp and keeps a tiny porcelain frog in his pocket for good luck. You can visit Paul online at www.pauldurhambooks.com.

 

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Credits

Cover art © 2014 by Pétur Antonsson

Cover design by Joel Tippie

Copyright

The Luck Uglies

Text copyright © 2014 by Paul Durham

Illustrations copyright © 2014 by Pétur Antonsson

 

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

www.harpercollinschildrens.com

 

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Durham, Paul (Paul Joseph), date.

    The luck uglies / Paul Durham ; illustrations by Pétur Antonsson. — First edition.

        pages    cm

    Summary: Eleven-year-old Rye O'Chanter and her two friends delve into the secret lore of their village when mysterious creatures of legend reappear on the night of the Black Moon, leading them to the notorious secret society, the Luck Uglies.

    ISBN 978-0-06-227150-1 (hardback)

    EPUB Edition © MARCH 2014 ISBN 9780062271525

    [1. Monsters—Fiction. 2. Secret societies—Fiction. 3. Adventure and adventurers—Fiction. 4. Fantasy.] I. Pétur Antonsson, 1984– illustrator. II. Title.

PZ7.D9337Luc 2014

2013047720

[Fic]—dc23

CIP

AC

 

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