Ansel jabs me in the ribs. "What's up with you?"

  I shake my head. "Nothing. Just thinking."

  "I've been trying to get your attention for ages. My friends and I went to visit Crombie today; you won't believe the monster he told us about—"

  "Ansel, not at the table." Mom gives us both a warning look. "I told you to leave that poor man alone. He doesn't need boys reminding him of his time in Lord Dennison's dungeon."

  "He likes to talk about it, Mom. No one else ever goes to visit him."

  I love and hate Crombie's stories. There can't be creatures like that living here in Chelonia, right?

  When we roll out our sleeping mats, Ansel scoots closer to me so the story won't scare Abby. Bedtime is Ansel's favorite time to talk about the dungeon monsters. I prefer them in the morning so I can spend the day forgetting them. But here we go again. Ansel will tell his story and fall asleep smiling, leaving me wide awake, wondering if the creature will try to get into the house. Sometimes at night, I sorta wish I lived in the village where the walls keep you safe.

  Ansel whispers, making the story scarier. "First, you have to know what they look like. The monster is as big as a wolf and the body of a scorpion. You can see right through its skin to its insides. They have red glowing eyes, that can see in the dark. Their sharp teeth slice right through people's bones. It has four long arms with claws for hands. They scratch up the ground as they walk. The sound echoes through the tunnels. The scratch, scratch, scratch warns you they're coming.

  "When the guards go home for the night, they blow out the torches and open the gate to let the creatures out of their cells. The monsters walk up and down the narrow halls, trying to get the men in the dungeons. Their tails have a long stinger that drips poison. Each drop sizzles as it hits the ground. It can melt the skin right off a man. The creatures stick their tail between the bars. They stab over and over again, trying to get the prisoners."

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  Ansel pokes me several times, imitating the stinger.

  I slap his hand away, rubbing the poked spots.

  "You're such a baby," he says. "You'd never survive if one of them came after you."

  "Neither would you."

  "I might; I'm tough like Crombie."

  I can tell he doesn't think I'm tough. It hurts a little, even though I know it's true. "So, how did Crombie survive?"

  "Every night, he'd crouch in the far corner of his cell. The scorpion tails were so long they still almost reached him. When they couldn't get in, they climbed up the walls to find another way in. They used their claws to scratch away the rock. Every night, they got a little closer to getting the prisoners. In the mornings, guards would lower food into the creatures holding pens.

  "One time, one of the monsters hid on the ceiling. After two guards passed by, it dropped down. The creature ate them both, leaving only a few bones. When it happened the second time, Lord Dennison set them free. Now, they wander wherever they want. Some could be here."

  "That's dumb. No one would release something that dangerous."

  "Are you sure? I saw scratch marks outside. I'll show you tomorrow if you don't believe me." Ansel stops. "Did you hear that?" It sounds like something scratching at the shutters."

  I don't answer. Ansel knows I'm listening. It's part of his storytelling game. He wants to scare me. It always works. I hold my breath, listening.

  "I hope it's not them. There's nowhere to hide in here. Goodnight." Ansel reaches over and jabs me one last time before rolling over and falling asleep.

  Despite what I want, I lay listening for sounds. Rats and other things crawl on the thatched roof. Sometimes, some of the straw falls on me. I hear sounds that probably aren't there and wonder if the monsters will get me while I sleep.