Amari and the Night Brothers

by B. B. Alston

  Eventually Dylan gets pulled away by some of his other friends, leaving me and Elsie to explore the rest of the festival on our own. We wander down a side street until I notice a jet-black tent with a faded sign out front.

  Madame Violet’s Magician Gift Shop

  An actual store for magicians? Owned by the lady who wrote my spell book?

  “We have to stop by that black tent,” I tell Elsie.

  “What black tent?” she replies.

  “Right there. It’s like directly in front of us.”

  Elsie squints. “I’m looking but I don’t see any black tents.”

  “Just follow me.” I lead Elsie closer, until we’re standing right in front of the entrance. “Still don’t see it?”

  Elsie looks at me sideways. “All I see is an empty alleyway.”

  Weird. “C’mon. Maybe you’ll be able to see it once we’re inside.”

  I step through the entrance and the sharp smell of spices stings my nose. A skinny spirit wearing long dreadlocks sits cross-legged behind a black kettle. That must be Madame Violet. She grins at me from the center of the dimly lit space. “You couldn’t have seen my tent unless you’ve magician’s magic in your blood. You must be the famous Amari Peters. I read about you in this week’s Dearly Departed.”

  “I am Amari Peters.” I glance around at the bottles lining her shelves. A bottle marked Broken Promises shimmers with a soft blue light. Another silver vial says Shattered Dreams. Unrequited Love has a bright red glow. Greatest Hopes sparkles in gold.

  Elsie comes in behind me. “This really is a tent. I thought for sure you were seeing things.”

  I step closer to the lady behind the kettle. “Are you the same Madame Violet who wrote my spell book?”

  The spirit shuts her eyes and grins. “Do you imagine that there are many magicians named Madame Violet?”

  “Probably not,” I reply.

  Madame Violet has a purring laugh. “Put the book to good use, child. Magic is a living thing—it does a dead woman no good. Shall we get down to business?” The spirit leans closer and strokes her chin. “The knowledgeable girl lacks courage, while the courageous girl lacks knowledge. How interesting . . .

  “I’ll make a deal with you,” she adds. “If the dragon girl pays a small price, the magician girl can get knowledge vital to her quest.”

  “My quest?” I ask.

  “This is not the first time I have seen your face,” says Madame Violet. “When I was living, I would cast my magic far into the future and marvel at the scenes my illusions would show me. I saw who you were speaking to, Amari, and the spell you cast. I can assure you, this is a future you desperately want to preserve. And that can only happen with my help.”

  Elsie pulls out some joss paper from her pouch.

  Madame Violet clucks her tongue. “I do not deal in common currency. For this I shall require one secret withheld from a friend.”

  “A secret?” My roommate shivers.

  The spirit’s expression darkens. “There isn’t anything you’ve kept from your friend here? Certainly she couldn’t hold it against you if revealing it is for her own benefit?”

  Elsie glances to me, then drops her head. “Well—”

  “Hush,” says the spirit. “Don’t waste it. Give me your hand.”

  At first, I think there’s no way Elsie will agree to this but then she extends her hand.

  “Wait!” I say.

  “I can do this for Quinton,” Elsie says.

  “But . . .” I watch helplessly as the spirit takes Elsie’s hand into her shimmering palm.

  “Repeat these words,” says the woman. “I pledge a secret withheld for a single bit of advice for my friend.”

  Elsie nods and repeats the words. A burst of cold air fills the tent, making me shiver.

  My roommate lowers her head and turns to face me. “The first night we met I told you that I didn’t know why I haven’t shifted yet. The truth is that I do know. I found it in a book ages ago. Weredragons were once fierce warriors and because of that, in order to shift we have to perform a great act of courage. But I’ve been a worrier and a scaredy-cat my whole life. I didn’t tell you because I’m ashamed.”

  The woman takes out a small net and swings it through the air between us. She hurriedly drops the net into an open jar labeled Secrets Among Friends. The black liquid swirls, going from nearly empty to half full.

  “I’m sorry,” says Elsie.

  I take her hand. “It’s totally fine. We had just met, remember? I thought you were going to say you snore like a lawn mower on purpose.”

  Elsie laughs and gives my hand a gentle squeeze.

  “Very good,” says Madame Violet. “And here is the knowledge that was promised—an illusionist should never trust that which giggles and grins.”

  I just stare. Is that all? “Am I supposed to know what that means?”

  Madame Violet cackles as she and the entire shop begin to fade away. Soon Elsie and I are standing alone in an alley between two larger tents. It’s like the shop was never here.

  “Well, that was strange,” says Elsie.

  “Very strange.”

  “There she is!” comes Kirsten’s voice from the main road. “I told you I saw her come down this way.”

  Elsie and I turn to find Lara and Kirsten coming in our direction.

  Lara balls her fists. “You think you can throw spaghetti in my face and get away with it?” Whatever made her hesitate back at the Bureau is gone. She looks furious.

  I glance around me for an escape but the only way out of this alley is forward. Right into Lara.

  “Just let Elsie go,” I say. “Please.”

  “So she can run off and tell someone?” says Lara. “Nope, you’re finally going to get what’s coming to you.” She sets her jaw and steps closer.

  I shove Elsie behind me.

  Lara dashes forward and kicks out her leg. It’s so fast I don’t even have time to react. I just feel my legs get knocked from under me and land hard on my side. Next thing I know, she’s on top of me, pinning both my wrists above my head with one arm. That means she’s still got one hand free. She balls it into a fist.

  I wriggle and buck my legs but it’s no use. Her ability makes her too strong. Lara winds up her punch and I panic. I stare into her eyes and scream, “Magna Fobia!”

  Lara’s eyes go wide as the world around us shifts. Suddenly we aren’t in an alley anymore but a big fancy office. Lara lowers her fist, glancing around, her face scrunched in confusion. “How did . . . ? Why am I . . . ?”

  I push her off me and she falls backward, whipping her head back and forth like . . .

  Like she can’t see me. I move a little closer and realize it’s true. Lara is looking right through me.

  “What on earth are you doing on the floor?” Director Van Helsing stands in the doorway. His gray suit is wrinkled and he’s got bags under his eyes like he hasn’t slept in days. “It’s bad enough you embarrassed this family at the tryout, and now I find you on the floor like a toddler?”

  Lara gets to her feet quickly but I can see his words hit home. Her cheeks redden, and her normally cocky voice comes out shaky and uncertain. “I’m sorry, I . . . just got confused.”

  Director Van Helsing shakes his head and shuts the door behind him. Then he goes to his desk. “The phone call should be coming any minute now.”

  What phone call? I wonder.

  But Lara just nods and takes a seat in front of the desk. She rocks back and forth in her chair.

  What’s going on?

  The phone chimes and Director Van Helsing answers on the first ring. Lara sits up straight in her chair, her eyes searching her father’s face.

  Director Van Helsing just keeps nodding and saying, “I understand,” over and over. When he finally does hang up, there’s a stunned look on his face.

  “Well?” asks Lara, jumping to her feet. “What did they say?”

  Director Van Helsing covers his face with both h
ands. “She’s gone, sweetheart. Your sister has passed on.”

  Lara lets out a terrible wail. Then she falls to her knees, sobbing.

  Oh no. I’ve got to make this stop. “Dispel!” I say, trembling.

  The illusion vanishes and Kirsten flees. I run over and throw my arms around Lara’s back. “I’m so, so sorry.”

  Lara just keeps crying. Elsie looks on from where she’s standing, one hand covering her mouth. What did I just do? Lara’s worst fear is the same as mine. That my brother is more than just missing. That he really is gone.

  Lara pulls herself free of my grip. “Stay away from me.” She sprints out of the alley.

  Elsie and I meet each other’s eyes, but neither of us knows what to say.

  28

  ON THE MORNING OF THE FINALE MY EMOTIONS ARE all over the place. I’m excited to be so close to becoming a Junior Agent and everything that would mean, and probably just as nervous about whether it will actually happen. I try not to dwell on it too much as Elsie and I get ready, but that only leaves me to think about last night and that awful spell I used. Just the memory turns my stomach.

  When we got back here, Elsie asked me not to use my magic like that on anyone else, but it wasn’t necessary. I had already made up my mind to never use foul magick again. Ever.

  No matter what.

  There’s no big ceremony or encouraging speeches to kick off the finale for the Junior Agent trainees. The six of us report to the lobby at 9:00 a.m. and we’re given a schedule that tells us where we need to be and at what time in order to complete each section of the finale. We’re all fidgety and anxious and look over our schedules quietly.

  First up for me is supernatural world knowledge. I walk into this little room with just a number 2 pencil, the test, and an answer sheet. I thought for sure we’d take the exam on a computer like we do when we practice, but they insist that this is tradition. My hard work completing that booklist definitely pays off. I know a lot of the answers. When I get to the last question, I smile. It’s the same final question I had on my first exam. Which two great beasts reside in the Atlantic Ocean? Easy peasy. The kraken and the leviathan.

  After the test, me and Dylan practice our steps for the Helsing technique for about thirty minutes and then report to the dueling gym. First up are Zoe and Madison. It feels so good to zap them into giggles on the floor mat. The next duel is harder, and I get zapped, but Dylan wins it for us.

  I should be excited that things are going so well, but still no one’s told me how they’re going to grade me for the supernatural ability demonstration. They only made it clear that I’m not allowed to do one, with a big red X on that section of my schedule. It makes me think that maybe Dylan is right, and Director Van Helsing plans to disqualify me.

  Guess it’s a good thing I plan on performing a demonstration anyway.

  “Would Dylan Van Helsing please come to the stage?” Director Van Helsing speaks into a microphone. Even though it’s the final demonstration, the briefing auditorium buzzes at the sound of Dylan’s name. It’s filled with Agents and Junior Agents, with Director Van Helsing and the rest of the grading committee getting the last row to themselves.

  A few seconds later Dylan appears from behind the curtain. He’s brought a microphone and a chair with him that he places at the center of the stage.

  Director Van Helsing says, “You may either display your supernatural ability first and announce what it is to the spectators later or vice versa. It’s your choice.”

  Dylan moves to the microphone. “I’ll be allowing my partner, Amari Peters, to have the stage. She has a demonstration she’d like to perform.”

  Shouts go up in the crowd as I walk out onstage to join him. People leap to their feet.

  “I’m very sorry but that won’t be allowed,” announces Director Van Helsing. “Come down off that stage at once, young lady.”

  My partner and I exchange a grin and then he darts behind the curtain, leaving me the stage.

  Director Van Helsing is practically growling into his microphone. “I’ll give you one more chance before I send someone up there. You will not perform that vile sorcery here among these good people.”

  But I don’t move. And when I raise my hands it goes silent. People cower in their seats like they think I’m about to attack or something.

  “Get her off that stage!” barks Director Van Helsing.

  Two agents run onstage and try to scoop me up into their arms. But I’m not onstage—it was just an illusion. With a wave of my hand I fill the room with darkness.

  Whispers break out across the room and I take a slow deep breath as I tiptoe up to the stage. My whole body tingles with nerves and it feels like my tummy has balled itself into a knot. But if this is what I have to do to prove myself, then I will.

  “Hello,” I say into my own microphone. “My name is Amari Peters, the magician girl. You guys have heard all about magicians, but most of you don’t actually know any. So I’d like to welcome you all to a very special Supernatural Immersion class—magician edition.”

  There are rumblings in the crowd, but thankfully no one leaves.

  “Habitat,” I continue. And I paint an illusion, letting the image pour out of my fingertips. Suddenly, the auditorium looks like a street in my neighborhood. A few people gasp, some keep turning their heads back and forth while others reach out with their hands to see if they can touch anything. “I’ve lived in the Rosewood Projects for as long as I can remember. It’s basically a low-income apartment complex for people who need a little help getting by. People joke and call it the ‘hood’ or the bad side of town, but it’s full of good people if you give them a chance.”

  I change the illusion to my apartment and have the audience glide through like one of those virtual house tours on the internet. “This is home for me. It’s probably not much compared to where a lot of you guys live, but it’s all I’ve ever known. This is my room, junky as always. And this is where the famous Agent Quinton Peters used to sleep when he was just my big brother. We would lie in here and dream about the things we were going to do. He made me believe I could actually do anything I set my mind to. He made me believe in me.

  “Hobbies. Well, usually I compete in the summer swim meets at the rec center but I got a little busy this year trying to make Junior Agent.” My joke gets a few laughs, and it’s enough to encourage me to keep going.

  “Go to the Department of Undersea Relations,” someone shouts.

  “Oh, good point,” I say. “Guess it’s hard to complain about missing the pool when there’s a whole floor that’s underwater.”

  That gets even more laughs.

  “I also like to read books. The fun ones, not Supernatural Laws and Regulations. That author should definitely be investigated for crimes against good moods and staying awake. I’d much rather read books about magic and adventure—though I never imagined my own life would ever come close! Recently I’ve taken up another hobby, and that’s practicing magic, which is mostly just me playing around with illusions.” I flash an image of Elsie freaking out that time I turned her hair pink.

  “I think I’ve gotten pretty good. Tell me what you guys think . . .”

  And then I put on a show. I turn the ceiling into a cloudless, starry night sky and let the aurora borealis glimmer just beyond their fingertips as shooting stars zip across the auditorium. I turn the room dark again, and suddenly fireworks explode and sparkle overhead one after the other. Then the auditorium becomes a circus, with performers doing flips down the aisles and trapeze acrobats twisting and flipping above them. Clowns spill out of a car onstage while tigers jump through hoops of fire. I put us aboard a pirate ship in the middle of terrible storm. People clutch their seats as the ship rocks back and forth amid crashing waves that tower above us. Finally, I put us on a calm sandy beach with the sun setting into the horizon. “The End.”

  I sweep away my illusion and step out onto the stage in front of the microphone Dylan left for me. Awed faces stare
up at me. “Supernatural Immersion class usually ends with us asking questions. So here I am. I’ll answer anything you guys ask.”

  “Is it really you this time?” someone asks.

  “Yep, it’s really me,” I say. “Hopefully Director Van Helsing will let me finish?”

  Agent Fiona’s voice answers. “Go on.”

  There are so many questions, from “Does using magic make you grow horns?” to “Did Quinton know you’re a magician?” to “What makes you different from all the magicians that committed so many awful crimes?”

  That last question is the hardest and I have to think before I answer. “I don’t know that anything makes me different from those other magicians. Honestly, there’s a lot to being a magician that I still don’t get. But what I have learned is that it’s my choice what kind of magician I’m going to be. I’m trying to learn from my mistakes and not be like those bad magicians you guys know about. I guess I’m just asking for a chance to prove myself.”

  And when Agent Fiona finally calls time on my presentation people actually clap. Not everyone, but some. And it means everything.

  I head backstage to find two agents waiting. I figured I’d get in trouble for this no matter how good or bad it turned out. “Just a few more seconds.” And I close my eyes, still listening to that applause.

  Screams from the auditorium pop my eyes back open. Suddenly alarms go off and agents rush past me. I step back onstage to find the whole place going nuts. People dash up the aisles toward the exit, others climb over their seats. But most everyone is looking up.

  I lift my head to find three huge bat hybrids, flashing long fangs. I’m too stunned to even react, my feet rooted to the stage. But then I blink—and suddenly there are twenty.