The Darkness Dwellers Read online

  Contents

  Preface

  Chapter 1: A Tale of Two Princesses

  Chapter 2: A Cure for the Royal Curse

  Chapter 3: The Prettiest Thief in New York

  Chapter 4: The Case of the Snow-White Lilies

  Chapter 5: Institutionalized

  Chapter 6: The Great Switcheroo

  Chapter 7: What Happened to Kiki

  Chapter 8: The Lady Factory

  Chapter 9: The Boreland Academy

  Chapter 10: Kiki Strike and the Darkness Dwellers

  Chapter 11: Things Get Hairy

  Chapter 12: Ananka’s Story Hour

  Chapter 13: Kiki Visits the Catacombs

  Chapter 14: The Stalker in the Mercedes-Benz

  Chapter 15: The Doppelgänger

  Chapter 16: Kiki and the Melting Queen

  Chapter 17: Unfortunate Side Effects

  Chapter 18: The Perils of Puppy Love

  Chapter 19: Le Traître

  Chapter 20: The Most Dangerous Game

  Chapter 21: The Bait Bites Back

  Chapter 22: A Declaration of War

  Chapter 23: The Luxurious Lair of Lili Liu

  Chapter 24: Loose in the Labyrinth

  Chapter 25: Betty Bent Gets Tough

  Chapter 26: The Revolt on Tenth Street

  Chapter 27: Catching Flies with Honey

  Chapter 28: Reclaim Your Brain

  Chapter 29: The Bombs Below

  Chapter 30: You’re Not So Tough

  Chapter 31: Les Frères Corbeaux

  Chapter 32: One for All and All for One

  Chapter 33: An Offer She Couldn’t Refuse

  Chapter 34: Lili’s Revenge

  Chapter 35: The Wildest Girl in Manhattan

  Chapter 36: What Happened to Amelia

  Chapter 37: Betty Calls the Shots

  Chapter 38: The Original Darkness Dwellers

  Chapter 39: The Metamorphosis

  Chapter 40: Stunning Developments

  Chapter 41: A Picture’s Worth a Thousand Words

  Chapter 42: The Snodgrass Guide to Being a Lady

  Chapter 43: And They All Lived Happily Ever After

  Footnotes

  Also by Kirsten Miller

  For Georgia, my wild child. May you grow to be the person you’re meant to be

  Preface

  There are plenty of impatient people in this world who will pick up a book and thumb past its preface. You should be proud you’re not one of them. The point of a preface is to prepare you for the story you’re about to read. And when it comes to the dark and dangerous tale that’s written on these pages, you’ll need all the preparation you can get.

  But before I begin, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Ananka Fishbein. If you haven’t heard of me, I won’t hold it against you. Perhaps the name Kiki Strike rings a bell? If not, I congratulate you on your recent release from prison. You see, a few years back, Kiki’s name was on the cover of every newspaper in the country. The first part of her story has already been written. But if you’re just joining us, sit back and make yourself comfortable. You’ve arrived at the very best moment.

  Here’s what you need to know so far. …

  Kiki Strike and I have been members of a secret band of girl geniuses known as the Irregulars for the past six years, and our mission has been to protect the Shadow City—a network of forgotten tunnels beneath downtown New York. We’ve battled greedy smugglers, hungry ghosts, and several well-known society figures in the process. But our most important mission—the one described on these very pages—was the mission that determined the future of a small kingdom in Eastern Europe and the fate of our illustrious leader.

  There’s no time to waste getting started, so I’ve taken the liberty of preparing a short dossier on a few key figures.

  Ananka Fishbein

  Known as the most brilliant and talented girl in Manhattan, with a face so lovely … Okay, I’m kidding. I don’t really have any remarkable gifts. I was invited to join the Irregulars because my parents possess an enormous library, and I’ve read most of it. (Before I turned twelve, I had a lot of time on my hands.) My areas of expertise include (but are not limited to): rats, maps, the history of New York, alien abduction, Bigfoot-like creatures around the world, and giant squid.

  Betty Bent

  The Irregulars’ sweet-tempered master of disguise, Betty rarely leaves the house without first concealing her identity. As a result, only close friends and relatives know what she really looks like. (Or do we?)

  Kaspar (aka Phineas Parker)

  A graffiti artist, squirrel lover, and former vigilante, Kaspar is now a trusted associate of the Irregulars. He’s also Betty’s boyfriend.

  DeeDee Morlock

  DeeDee is a chemistry prodigy and co-creator of Fille Fiable, the only perfume proven to make its wearer appear more trustworthy. She’s responsible for the Irregulars’ potions, antidotes, and explosive devices. Most of the time they work.

  Iris McLeod

  Formerly the Irregulars’ mascot, Iris is now our youngest member. By the time she was twelve years old, she had developed the rat-repelling potion that saved the Irregulars from a gruesome fate and helped DeeDee concoct Fille Fiable.

  Luz Lopez

  In the market for a skin-searing laser security system or surveillance camera concealed inside a stuffed pigeon? Luz Lopez is your girl. The Irregulars’ engineering expert can craft any gadget you desire. If only she could work the same wonders on her rather challenging attitude.

  Oona Wong

  Computer hacker, lock picker, former forger, and a usually trustworthy member of the Irregulars. Only three months before this story began, Oona’s father tried to have us all killed. Having been raised an only child by Mrs. Ning Fei, Oona was shocked to learn that she might have an identical twin sister named Lili. (An evil twin sister, naturally.)

  Kiki Strike (aka Princess Katarina of Pokrovia)

  Life-threatening allergies and a startling lack of pigment didn’t prevent the vertically challenged founder of the Irregulars from becoming a world-class kicker of bad-guy butt. Kiki’s biggest challenge? The one she now faces: avenging her parents’ death.

  Livia Galatzina

  Kiki’s aunt, Livia, became queen of Pokrovia after murdering Kiki’s mother, the most beloved princess in Pokrovia’s history. When Livia turned out to be one of the world’s worst rulers, she was banished from her native land. She and her daughter fled to New York, never realizing that one of the diamond rings she’d packed for the trip was engraved with a secret message that could expose her crimes. That ring is now in the possession of her niece, Kiki Strike.

  Sidonia Galatzina

  Livia’s daughter and a nasty little sociopath, Sidonia was New York’s “It Girl” until she tried to murder Kiki Strike. That’s when the Irregulars forced her to flee to Russia. Unfortunately, she chose not to stay.

  Sergei Molotov

  Livia’s henchman, Sergei thinks he’s funny and wears waaaay too much cologne. He looks and acts like a cartoon villain, but Sergei’s weapons are real and he’s never afraid to use them.

  Verushka Kozlova

  A former member of the Pokrovian Royal Guard and Kiki Strike’s beloved guardian, Verushka rescued Kiki from her homicidal relatives and trained her in the martial arts. Before this story began, Verushka had recently recovered from an assassination attempt. But only the Irregulars knew she was still alive.

  Lester Liu

  A genuine bad guy, Lester Liu is Oona Wong’s father and the head of a vicious Chinatown smuggling gang known as the Fu-Tsang. After the Irregulars got in his way, he joined forces with Livia Galatzina to kill us. Lester is currently serving a forty-year prison sentence.


  Lili Liu

  A girl who looks enough like Oona Wong to be her twin sister.

  Molly Donovan

  My friend and former classmate at the Atalanta School for Girls, Molly is the most famous delinquent in Manhattan. She now attends the Boreland Academy, a school for young people with behavioral problems or a tendency toward violence.

  Principal Theodora Wickham

  Principal of the Atalanta School for Girls, my mentor, and quite possibly the coolest lady on Earth.

  Consider yourself briefed. Are you ready for a little adventure?

  Chapter 1

  A Tale of Two Princesses

  I, Ananka Fishbein, have an embarrassing secret I’d like to share with you. When I was younger (much, much younger), I used to dream of being a princess. Go ahead. Giggle all you want. But at the time, I thought it sounded like a job with some excellent perks. Fabulous clothes, all the caviar you can eat, and the ability to have your enemies shipped off to prison. (Or beheaded, if you were really ticked off.) Now that I’ve gotten to know a few princesses, I realize just how foolish I was. These days, I’d rather take a job scrubbing Porta-Potties than go anywhere near a royal throne.

  In the immortal words of one Madame Amelia Beauregard, I’m as common as they come. (More on her later.) And I’m happy to be the product of a long line of peasants. Unlike princesses, female Fishbeins have never been forced to marry their cousins—or had their heads lopped off when they failed to produce heirs to the Fishbein throne. Of course, one might argue that princesses are rarely beheaded these days. But the job is as deadly as it’s ever been. For those who find this hard to believe, I offer as proof Princess A and Princess B.

  One of the very first royals I’ve had the pleasure of meeting, Princess A was nearly murdered when she was little more than an infant. She survived the assassination attempt. Her mother and father did not. Princess A spent the following fifteen years running from relatives who wanted to kill her—and trying to avenge her parents’ deaths. Sounds like a barrel of laughs, right?

  Princess B lives in fear of a “curse.” From what I’ve read, every royal family has one. Members of the Austrian royal family (including the notorious Marie Antoinette) were often born with pronounced underbites. French nobility possessed enormous noses, and the British royal family is famed for Dumbo-like ears. But the princesses of a certain Eastern European kingdom are said to be burdened with the worse curse of all—incurable baldness. Princess B worries that one morning she’ll wake up as hairless as a mole rat. Just as her mother did the day she turned seventeen.

  I should add that these two particular princesses are first cousins—and sworn enemies. One would do anything to rule the tiny country of Pokrovia. The other would do anything to stop her. Those of you who’ve been following my adventures know that Princess A is none other than Kiki Strike, founder of the Irregulars. Princess B is her cousin—the beautiful, enchanting, despicable Sidonia Galatzina. And this is the story of which princess prevailed.

  It all began on a Valentine’s Day not long ago when I arrived unannounced at the Soma Inn in lower Manhattan, where Kiki Strike had taken temporary lodgings. The term “fleabag hotel” doesn’t do justice to the variety of vermin that scuttled down the halls and snuggled up under the bedsheets. The Irregulars had been forced to spend an entire weekend wrangling herds of giant cockroaches before Kiki’s room was fit for human habitation.

  Of course, the Soma Inn was the last place anyone would expect to encounter the heir to the throne of Pokrovia, which was exactly why Kiki had chosen it. The whole world was searching for the pale little princess who’d come back from the dead. Kiki Strike had one final task to complete before she let anyone find her.

  When I reached the hotel, a black town car was already idling at the curb. The trunk popped open as I passed, and an enormous man jumped out from behind the wheel.

  “You need some help with that?” He hurried toward a tiny creature who had emerged from the hotel lobby with a giant suitcase in each hand.

  “Knock yourself out,” the girl said, setting her luggage down in the snow. When the man grabbed the handles and lifted, his eyes nearly crossed from the strain.

  “You got bricks in here, honey?” he asked.

  “Just a few supplies, precious,” Kiki Strike replied flatly. Her colorless hair was tucked beneath an ebony wig. Dark sunglasses hid her icy blue eyes. She wore a black overcoat, tall black boots, and black leather gloves. As always, Kiki looked like an assassin on assignment at a fashion show.

  “Ananka! You have come to see us off?” A short nun with a thick Russian accent appeared at Kiki’s side.

  “I think this outfit may be my favorite,” I said with a giggle. In the months since she had staged her own death, Verushka hadn’t left the house without one of Betty Bent’s ingenious disguises.

  “Yes, I never knew habits were so practical,” replied Kiki’s beloved guardian in a hushed voice. “I can hide almost anything under these robes. You would not believe what I have strapped to my ankle!”

  “I can only imagine,” I told her.

  “Okay, Ananka, enough with the small talk,” Kiki announced. “Our flight leaves in two hours. So why don’t you just go ahead and tell us why you’re here. I assume something has gone seriously wrong, because I believe I made it clear that we wouldn’t need a formal farewell. Verushka and I will be back before you even realize we’re gone.”

  “I know,” I said. “But I’ve been thinking.”

  “Uh-oh,” Kiki groaned.

  According to Kiki, her trip to Pokrovia would take no more than three days. There would be just enough time to meet with the country’s prime minister—and use the clues engraved in the band of a pink diamond ring to find a treasure Kiki had been seeking for years. In less than a week she would return to New York with evidence that her only aunt had murdered her parents. It sounded like a simple-enough plan. But when it came to the royal family of Pokrovia, nothing was ever simple.

  “It’s about your aunt,” I said. “I’m worried she might cause trouble for you and Verushka.”

  Kiki sighed. “Ananka, you were the one who took charge of getting Livia and Sidonia out of my hair. All reports place them both in a castle in the middle of Loch Leven in Scotland right now. So admit it. You did a fantastic job.”

  She was right about that. My idea to “persuade” a well-known movie director to cast Sidonia as the lead in his film about Mary Queen of Scots had been nothing short of sheer genius.

  “Yeah, but you were the one who taught me to always have a backup plan,” I pointed out. “If Livia shows up in Pokrovia and tries to get in your way, you may need something to bargain with. And we both know there’s nothing baldie wants more than a full head of hair. So I’m going to tell the Irregulars to keep working on the cure for the Pokrovian royal curse.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Kiki persisted. “And just between us, I’m getting worried about DeeDee. Every time she invents some new drug or ointment, she always ends up testing the stuff on herself. She’s going to poison herself someday.”

  “I’ll tell DeeDee to be more careful,” I said. “But I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist. You may end up needing the cure. So we’re going to make it. End of story.”

  Not long before I first met Kiki Strike, I won the only award of my academic career. I was named the seventh grade’s “Best Conversationalist.” Even back then, I could hold forth on a wide range of topics—from Egyptian embalming techniques to reported Yeti attacks in the mountains of Nepal. But I’ve always been hopeless when it comes to expressing the things that matter most. My mouth takes my heartfelt emotions and spits them out in some kind of code. Luckily, the people who know me best usually figure out how to crack it.

  Standing outside the Soma Inn, I couldn’t utter the words I needed to say. And Kiki might have squirmed if she’d heard them. Neither of us has ever qualified as the warm, fuzzy type. But we both knew that I couldn’t bear the thought of any
thing happening to her. She had rescued me from a dull, drab existence and showed me how thrilling the world could be. I owed Kiki Strike everything, and I wasn’t about to lose her.

  “Okay,” Kiki finally agreed. “You guys go ahead and cook up the cure. I’ll call you as soon as Verushka and I land in Pokrovia.”

  “Good luck,” I told her.

  “Luck is for the ill-prepared,” Kiki said, ducking into the car. “But thanks anyway.”

  I watched the town car pull away from the snow-covered curb with Kiki and Verushka inside.

  Kiki had promised she’d be back in New York in three short days. But it would be months before I’d see her again.

  Chapter 2

  A Cure for the Royal Curse

  NEW YORK CITY: SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 14

  Chinatown was silent but for the crunch of boots on ice. Snow banks rose on either side of me, their dingy walls speckled black, brown, and yellow. Two days had passed since a blizzard had slammed the city, but the streets and sidewalks of Manhattan had yet to be cleared. Now the sky threatened more snow. The clouds that brushed past the church steeples were dark gray and faintly furry. At times they dipped so low that you could have almost reached up to pet them.

  When I finally arrived at Oona Wong’s apartment, I found that the Irregulars hadn’t bothered to wait for me. DeeDee Morlock, our chemist, was busy adjusting a portable lab she’d set up on the dining room table. Luz Lopez, mechanic and engineer, was assembling something that resembled a medieval torture device. Neither girl glanced up to greet me.

  “Hi, Ananka.” Betty Bent was moping on the living room couch. Aside from her bright red wig and miserable expression, she was the spitting image of Jackie O. “Luz said they don’t need me.” She touched a hankie to the corner of one eye.

  “You might not be in demand today,” I tried to console her. “But masters of disguise don’t stay unemployed for long. Where are Oona and Iris? I want to talk to everyone together.”