by B. B. Alston
Dylan thinks for a moment. “Of course I’d have your back. That’s what partners do. That’s why it doesn’t make sense for Quinton to think my sister would ever . . . Let me prove it, okay? You keep looking into what Quinton was up to, and I’ll show you my sister isn’t a traitor.”
“Okay.” I don’t know what else to say.
Dylan turns to leave but stops short. “Did Director Horus get suspicious about there being another magician on your side?”
“Well,” I say, “he asked me about it, but I just told him I didn’t know.”
Some of his anger fades. “You kept my secret?”
“You should tell people when you’re ready.” It’s a choice I wish somebody had given me.
Surprise shows on Dylan’s face and he flushes. “Thanks.”
Now that training has restarted, it’s time to learn Stun Sticks. Agent Magnus paces in front of us, holding up a metal rod. It almost looks like a really fancy pen. “First thing to know about a Stun Stick is that it’s for self-defense purposes only. Once you make Junior Agent in a few weeks, you and your partner will be assigned to a Senior or Special Agent. Wherever that agent goes, you go. Needless to say, things can get a little hairy when you’re out fighting crime. These Stun Sticks have the power to down an eight-foot yeti mid-pounce. Which one of you brave souls wants to volunteer to demonstrate it?”
“I think Amari wants to volunteer!” shouts Kirsten.
I turn to glare at her but Agent Magnus steps in front of me.
“That so?” he asks.
Which is worse? Getting zapped by a Stun Stick blast or chickening out in front of everybody? I swallow. “Sure, I’ll volunteer.”
I step up in front the group and Agent Magnus offers me the Stun Stick.
“Wait, you want me to zap you?” I ask.
“That’s right.”
A slow grin spreads over my face. Now we’re talking. This might be worth it for how much he teased us about our sloppy Sky-Sprints technique last week.
“Now you’ll want to hold it out in front of you and press—” I press the button and Magnus goes stiff as a board, his thick arms clapping against his sides. He bursts into loud guffawing laughter.
Huh? I touch the Stun Stick to my own arm and tap the button. Instantly, both my arms snap to my sides. It’s a lot like one of those bear hugs I used to get from my great-aunt at Thanksgiving. A few seconds later I get the sensation of being tickled on the bottoms of both my feet.
We pass the Stun Stick around the room and let each trainee experience what it feels like. “The Stun Stick works in two ways,” says Magnus. “First, it immobilizes your opponent, preventing them from attacking. Second, it can lessen whatever ill will your opponent bears you with laughter. At the finale, you will duel against one another in pairs using Sky Sprints and Stun Sticks. So go ahead and get your Sky Sprints on.”
I turn to head to the equipment room to get a pair of standard-issue Sky Sprints.
“Amari,” calls Dylan, waving me over. It takes me by surprise. The two of us haven’t talked much since the whole “Maria might be a traitor” thing. He keeps glancing down at his gym bag.
“Yeah?” I say.
“I, uh, picked up something during weekend break.” Dylan reaches inside and pulls out a black box with Duboise written in silver across the top. “Didn’t have a chance to give it to you before so . . .”
I’m so stunned, it takes a second for my brain to catch up. “These are for me?”
Dylan lifts off the top. A pair of really cool Sky Sprints sit inside a velvety box. The white boots have a ghostly shimmer. The tag reads Dead but Dazzling Collection.
All I can do is shake my head in disbelief. “Thank you.”
Dylan’s whole face reddens. “I mean, uh, you won’t get far in those dusty old Sky Sprints you were using before. And if you fail, so do I.”
“Right,” I say. “That makes sense.”
I wish things with me and Dylan could go back to normal. Please don’t let Maria really be a traitor . . .
Over the next week there’s a new report about some outpost or legacy family’s home getting overrun by hybrids practically every other day. Elsie said the only reason they haven’t canceled the summer training sessions is because Bureau headquarters is probably the safest place for us to be.
My days are pretty busy just trying to keep up. Every day I wake up and take classes, study for the finale in the afternoon, and hang out with Elsie at night, which usually means the two of us in a study room not coming up with much about Moreau, KH, or the Black Book.
Elsie has been doing her part. She borrowed nearly every book on magical objects from the library and even brought a few from Director Fokus’s personal collection, but hardly any of them mention the Black Book. And if they do, it’s info we already know.
On the days I miss Quinton the most, Elsie and I spend the last few minutes before curfew looking at old magazines about VanQuish. It helps me feel closer to him. On better days, either I’m Elsie’s guinea pig for whatever wild invention she’s working on or she’s barricading the door and helping me practice my magic.
I’m getting better and better at painting illusions by hand. One time I even changed the color of Elsie’s frizzy brown hair to bright pink. She nearly freaked when I pretended that I couldn’t remember how to change it back. I can even paint moving illusions now, which are tricky because you have to concentrate so hard to make the movements look natural.
The only downside is that in order to keep Dylan’s secret, I can’t tell Elsie how I got the spell book or how I learned to paint illusions in the first place. I wonder if my aura shows how much I hate hiding things from her. If it does, Elsie never says anything.
It’s the week of the second tryout and I’m trudging to the food court when Gemma, Elsie’s lab partner, hands me a note to meet her in the library instead.
When I get there, she rushes me into a study room.
“Did you find something?” I ask.
Elsie sighs dramatically. “This is the last book I have access to. It’s taken so much sucking up to Director Fokus to get her to lend me Rasputin’s Directory of Dangerous Doodads and Doohickeys. It’s the magician’s handwritten notes. If there’s not anything new about the Black Book in here then I don’t know where else to look.”
I bite down on my lip and take the seat next to her. “Let’s see then.”
Elsie carefully flips through the pages until she finds an entry for the Black Book. Her eyes scan it top to bottom before her face falls. “Nothing new.”
As bad as I feel, Elsie looks even more upset. I know she’s been working crazy hard to finding something that would help, so I pull out my own spell book to cheer her up.
Elsie looks over as I slip the key into the lock and she sits up. “Of course! I’m such an idiot. All this time . . .”
She reopens the book, flipping past the Black Book entry until she lands on a new page:
THE BLACK KEY
If only a spare few know about the Black Book, even fewer are aware of the key necessary to open it. After Vladimir’s death, the Bureau of Supernatural Affairs was tasked with protecting the Black Book from Moreau and those magician apprentices who avoided capture. Not trusting humanity to possess both the Black Book and the Black Key, the inaugural Supernatural World Congress bestowed the Black Key upon an anonymous Key Holder whose duty it was to hide and protect it. This duty is to be passed down through generations, with each new Key Holder honor bound to never reveal themselves.
The Black Book and the Black Key are never to be brought together under any circumstances. Therefore the Supernatural World Congress forbids the Bureau from ever seeking out the key. For if it does, then it has broken its foremost oath and shall be forever dismantled, its members immediately banished from the supernatural world.
“KH means Key Holder,” says Elsie, eyes wide, pointing to the page. “That’s what, or I guess who, VanQuish found.”
I bite my l
ip and nod. “No wonder Moreau’s apprentice went after my brother. If there really is some master plan to take back the Black Book, then they’ll need the Black Key to open it.”
“This is bad,” says Elsie, dropping her voice to a whisper. “If anyone finds out about this, the entire Bureau would be shut down for breaking its oath.”
“Then for now we don’t say anything to anyone,” I say.
“What about Dylan?” asks Elsie.
“I . . . don’t know yet.” Because Maria Van Helsing might be Moreau’s apprentice.
Now that Elsie and I are out of clues, and the second tryout is only a couple days away, we decide to shift all our focus into not failing. It would be different if we knew who the Key Holder was, then we could at least send a warning somehow. If it’s not already too late.
Hopefully Quinton hasn’t told Moreau’s apprentice anything. But I don’t like to think about the ways a magician might go about making someone talk . . .
A couple times I’ve wanted to tell Dylan about what we found, but it seems like he’s avoiding me. He’s even been pairing up with Lara instead of me in Sky Sprint training. I almost wish I’d never said anything about Maria.
All the trainees from every department have been studying and practicing like crazy. Hardly anyone shows up for lunch anymore. If not for Elsie, I’d be right there with them. My roommate doesn’t believe in missing meals, and apparently that rule goes for me too. Last time I told her I planned to skip lunch to finish Uniforms of the Bureau of Supernatural Affairs: A Guide, she picked me up and carried me here.
As I finish off a taco, Elsie goes on and on about some new flea grenade that the Agent Support Division of the Department of Magical Science is working on. That’s where she wants to end up when she makes Junior Researcher. They come up with all the cool gadgets that agents use to fight crime.
“A flea grenade isn’t as mean as it sounds,” says Elsie. “My fleas tickle the yetis into submission. It’s actually a lot like how a Stun Stick works now that I think about it.” I just smile at Elsie. If I thought I was doing well by ranking first in the previous tryout, that’s nothing compared to how much the researchers love Elsie. She’s the only trainee to be invited to Director Fokus’s Movie Night for the Intellectually Inclined. Apparently, they just sit around watching really boring documentaries that only geniuses would find entertaining. Whatever the second tryout for researcher trainees is, it’ll be no sweat for that girl.
“Are the yetis really as bad as everyone makes them seem?” I ask.
Elsie nods. “The worst. They think they own the whole forest! They throw the most ridiculous tantrums. Some sports team just mentioned one of their forests as a possible spot to build a stadium, and the yetis proceeded to buy the team and trade away all the good players.”
“They’re that rich?”
“Yep,” she answers. “They own a really popular ice cooler company.”
“Hey, Amari, you got a sec?”
Elsie and I both look up to find Dylan standing over us. “Um, sure,” I say.
I follow Dylan to an empty table.
“So . . . I have a friend, who heard it from another friend, whose brother is a Junior Agent, who walked in on Agent Fiona telling my dad about the second tryout being a treasure hunt—inside the Bureau. He said Agent Fiona made it clear that the only way to pass is to have a really good understanding of the Bureau.”
“Are you sure it was real?” I ask. “Because Lara seemed pretty certain she knew what the first tryout would be too.”
“That was just my sister wanting to be the center of attention. This is legit.”
I chew on my lip. “How many people know about this?”
“All the agent trainees. But you weren’t there so I came to find you.”
He’s being nice about it, but I know what he really means. The magician wasn’t invited to the secret meeting.
“Thanks for telling me,” I say. “But I bet all the copies of Ins and Outs and In-Betweens of the Bureau are checked out by now.”
“No worries,” he says. “I have my own. We can study together.”
“Oh,” I say, surprised. “That would be cool.”
He goes a little red. “I’ve been thinking and . . . I know you only said what you said about Maria because that’s where the investigation led you. If the situation were reversed, I’d have done the same. Just please keep an open mind, okay? Let’s treat my sister like she’s innocent until we know for sure.”
“I can do that,” I say.
A smile spreads across his face and he holds out his fist. “VanQuish 2.0?”
I smile and bump his fist. “VanQuish 2.0.”
25
AGENT FIONA THROWS HER ARMS OPEN AND SHOUTS, “Welcome to the second tryout! By the end of the day, we’ll be sayin’ goodbye to half the remaining trainees, bringing our numbers down from sixteen to eight. But if ye do pass this tryout, then all you’ll need to worry about is the finale next week. No more surprises. I’m sure the lot of ye could do with a bit more certainty in your lives.”
The sixteen of us sit in the briefing auditorium of the Department of Supernatural Investigations. Agent Fiona and Agent Magnus stand onstage next to a large basket of eggs. You know you’ve been here for a while when weird stuff like that doesn’t even faze you. I’ve been looking around for Dylan since I got here, but there’s no sign of him or his sister.
“In a moment, we’re gonna ask that ye partner up and send one representative from each pairing up to the stage to collect your first clue—”
Magnus leans over and says something in Agent Fiona’s ear. “My apologies! I haven’t even said what you’re getting a clue for, have I? This tryout is a treasure hunt, seeking to test your ability to puzzle out clues in high-pressure situations. An agent has gotta be quick on their feet to determine the next move. To that end, we’ll be sending each pair on a unique path through the Bureau. In each location you’ll receive a new clue that leads to the next department. The first four pairs to finish the treasure hunt will receive an invite to the finale. Go on and pair up.”
Kids jostle to get a seat next to their partners. I look for Dylan but he’s nowhere to be found. If he waits much longer I might have to go it alone. With everything that’s riding on this tryout, just the thought makes me nervous.
Dylan and Lara finally walk in together. From the way they glare at each other, I can tell they’ve probably been arguing. Lara turns her back on him as he’s talking and goes to partner up with Kirsten. Dylan just rolls his eyes and glances around the auditorium. I wave a hand.
He comes over and takes the seat next to me.
“You and Lara not getting along?” I ask.
Dylan sighs and shakes his head. “I might’ve promised her that we’d be partners once we were able to choose. But that was before the summer. Things change, you know? I bet she’s going to rush off and whine to Dad if she doesn’t do well in this tryout.”
I can’t believe Dylan is willing to anger his dad and Lara just to be my partner. “Well, um, thanks for not bailing on me.”
He shrugs. “Partners, remember?”
Agent Fiona calls out, “Our first-place team decided to remain partners it seems. Both of ye come on down and collect the first clue. You’ll get a thirty-second head start on the rest of the trainees. Doesn’t sound like a lot, but you’ll get the benefit of not havin’ to share an elevator.”
I let Dylan reach into the basket to select our clue. It comes in an egg that looks so real I’m half expecting to find a yolk inside. Once every team has one, Agent Fiona says, “And dontcha give us a hard time about our clues either. We aren’t poets, after all. Dylan and Amari, go on and start us off!”
Dylan crushes the egg in his palm and unfolds the paper inside. I read as fast as I can.
That thing in the shed, was it even real?
The girl on the phone says, “It’s no big deal.”
He can’t believe it. “It tried to eat me!”
<
br /> The girl on the phone disagrees completely.
“I’m a surgeon, I’ll fetch my laser!”
“Please calm down. Help’s on the way, sir.”
A bit more fussing, then, “Finally, they’re here.”
And with the press of a button she erases his fear.
“Has to be the Department of Half Truths and Full Cover-Ups,” says Dylan. “They’re responsible for any accidental contact between humans and the supernatural world.”
“Right,” I say. “All 9-1-1 calls that deal with the supernatural get forwarded to the Call Center.”
Dylan and I race out of the auditorium and down the main hall of the Department of Supernatural Investigations to the elevators. I glance over my shoulder as Luciano the elevator opens up in front of us. As our doors close, the rest of the trainees come storming out of the auditorium. The treasure hunt is officially on.
I’m actually glad that we got Luciano. He may not move as fast as Lucy, but he sings us a soft ballad that calms my nerves. Dylan can’t keep still, he’s so worked up. He keeps bouncing back and forth from foot to foot.
“Now approaching the Department of Half Truths and Full Cover-Ups,” croons Luciano.
The doors open up to what I think is the coolest lobby in the whole Bureau. It’s pretty much the wall over Elsie’s bed on steroids. Every inch is lined with covers from famous magazines from the known world, like Time and National Geographic, only they’ve changed the pictures to show what really happened. I’ve only seen the lobby a few times, when somebody else would get off on this floor, but I’ve got a favorite cover that I look for every time. Instead of that famous Life magazine cover showing an astronaut on the moon, it says “Apollo 11 Gets Tow from Friendly Alien Cruiser after Running Out of Fuel.” The image of Neil Armstrong reaching out into space to give a hitchhiker’s thumb cracks me up every time. The invasion of mutant concrete-eating termites that brought the Berlin Wall down is definitely second place. The giant termites are all wearing Mutants for World Peace T-shirts.
