Newt Nemesis (3 page)

“Mom and Dad will be here in two hours!” moaned Josh, peering down inside his socks in horror. “I don't think they'll be pleased to find we're semiaquatic mutants. We have to find Petty NOW!”

Charlie and Danny and Josh gulped. Their eyes bulged a little. Small croaks of fear came from their throats. And Danny ate a fly.

“Aaaah,” said Petty, behind the canteen cabin an hour later. “I see.”

Josh, Danny, and Charlie were sockless, and the shiny web-toed truth was hard to miss.

“You have frogs' legs,” said Petty, rather unnecessarily.

“Yesss! We have frogs' legs!” hissed Danny. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Erm . . . strike a really good deal with a French restaurant?” smirked Petty, raising her shaggy gray eyebrows behind her slightly smeary round spectacles.

“This isn't flippin' FUNNY!” Josh stamped his froggy foot, and Petty snorted with laughter.

“We've had to keep them hidden ever since we got up this morning!” said Charlie. “In long socks
and boots! We're roasting hot.” It was very warm where they were standing and the big wooden kitchen compost bin was sending out steam just behind them as the sun dried out yesterday's rain. “But that's not the serious problem. The BIG problem is . . .”

“Danny eating bugs?” queried Petty.

“I am NOT eating bugs!” squawked Danny. A wing and a green leg were stuck between his front teeth. “Why does everyone keep saying that? I hate creepy-crawlies! If one even landed on me, I'd rip it off me.”

“Sorry—was that rip it or ribbet?” Petty bit her lip.

“Yes—ribbet!” snapped Danny.

“You know, frogs don't even say ribbet, really,” Josh reminded him.

“Oh, will you shut up, you freaky little frog nerd?” snapped Danny.

“I can see we have a problem here,” said Petty.

“It's not just Danny,” said Charlie, glancing around to be sure nobody was within earshot. “Soon our parents are coming to see us in the show and we're supposed to dance around like cavemen—with bare feet!”

“Aaaah,” said Petty, again.

“So you've GOT to get us the antidote!” said Josh. “Or this could be really bad for all of us.”

Petty scratched her gray hair and frowned. “It's normally worn off of its own accord by now,” she pondered.

“Yes—but you gave us a second FrogSWITCH dose, didn't you? While we were still froggy from the first dose,” said Danny. “It did wear off after we hopped back into bed and went to sleep . . . but not properly. It must be the accidental double dose that did it.”

Petty opened her long red raincoat, which she had kept on all day despite the hot sun. In its lining were four bottles of AMPHISWITCH formula. One of them was meant to be the antidote—but at least two of them had turned out to be FrogSWITCH. “I wrote A for “Antidote” on one and
A1, A2
, and
A3
for each of the different types of AMPHISWITCH sprays,” sighed Petty. “A1 was frog and A2 was . . . oh, but look! The rain must have got into my coat and smeared them all about. I just don't know which one is AMPHISWITCH Antidote!”

“For a genius,” said Danny, “you're quite dim. Exactly when did you think that identical bottles were a good idea?”

Petty glared at him. “Look, when you have a brain as exceptional as mine, endlessly working on projects of astonishing brilliance, the small things sometimes have to make room for the big things.”

“Yes, well, this small thing has turned out to be pretty BIG for us, hasn't it?” said Josh. “You've had another fun experiment—and we've all ended up with comedy legs! I don't know about Danny and Charlie, but always coming first in long jump competitions isn't going to make up for the laughing and the pointing and the cable news film crews!”

“The only thing to do,” murmured Petty, staring thoughtfully at the bottles, “is try them out.”

“Oh yeah! That'll help! Turn us into some other freaky amphibian!” Danny shook his head, shooting out his tongue as he did so and collecting an unwary moth from the side of the compost bin. He chewed sarcastically.

“Oh don't be such a fusspot,” said Petty, pulling
out the first bottle with a smeary
A
marked on it. “If I get it wrong with this one . . . and maybe even the second and third one, as soon as I've found the AMPHISWITCH antidote, I can change you back right away.”

“We've got no choice,” said Charlie. “Our moms and dads will be here in less than an hour!”

Petty nodded and sprayed Danny's froggy legs. They all peered at the greeny-brown skin and webbed toes and held their breath.

And then Danny was gone, and a fat frog sat on the ground in his place, giving Petty a cheesed-off glare from its pop-up eyes.

“Sooo,” said Petty. “Not that one.” She pulled a marker from another pocket and put a big
F
on the bottle before setting it down next to Danny. Then she got the next bottle out and sprayed it at Charlie.

A few seconds later, Charlie hopped over next to Danny and giggled as she landed with a plop. She was still rather excited about S.W.I.T.C.H.ing, even though she'd nearly been eaten by a heron last time.

“Aaah . . .” said Petty. “So two bottles are frog.” She marked the second bottle
F2
and set it down next to Charlie. “I didn't mean to bring two AMPHISWITCH frog sprays, so this one”—she held up another spray bottle—“is probably the antidote.”

“Probably?” Josh didn't much like the sound of that “probably.” But before he could say anything else, Petty had sprayed him and in no time at all the world had gone HUGE again and he was down in the grass, tall green blades of it waving above him. He went to leap across to join Danny and Charlie but discovered that his back legs were rubbish. They didn't do anything! They only propelled him forward onto his nose. He stared at them in the reflection of a bit of broken glass beside the compost bin and noticed two things. One, his legs were black with white speckles and rather warty, not greeny-brown and smooth. And two, there was a neat row of stubby spines all down his back—ending in a long pointed tail.

“Whoa!” he called out. “NOT a frog! I am NOT a frog.”

The grass waved violently, and two large frogs suddenly landed in front of him.

“Oooh! Look at you!” marveled Charlie. “You're like a mini crocodile! Or a dragon!”

Josh was inspecting his belly now and grinned up at them. “It's orange! How cool is that? I'm a great crested newt!” He lifted up his four-fingered hand (or four-toed front foot, he wasn't sure) and marveled at its black and bright orange stripes. “Another kind of amphibian!”