Amari and the Night Brothers

by B. B. Alston

  I bite my lip. “It’s called tech magic.”

  “And how do you know this?” When I don’t answer, Magnus’s expression darkens. “This ain’t a time for secrets, kid! How do you know this?”

  “It’s just . . . something I’ve learned,” I say.

  Magnus groans and turns away from me. “Then we’re still vulnerable, even now. We’ve gotta get you kids home and away from danger.”

  “You can’t send me home,” I say. “Not until I’ve found Quinton. You said you’d let me help with the search.”

  “That was before the Bureau got turned into a war zone! I owe it to your brother to keep you safe, Amari.”

  “But—”

  “No buts,” he says. “After we speak to Moreau, I’m gonna personally see to it you and your mother are placed in a safe location until this is all sorted out.”

  I’m so annoyed I could shout. It’s so unfair. I don’t need protecting.

  Lord Kensington races us down the spiraling rail to the level Moreau has all to himself.

  Just as he was the last time, he’s sitting in a chair facing away from us.

  Agent Magnus steps out of the elevator first and I follow.

  The moment my foot hits the smooth black floor of the prison, the inside of Moreau’s glass cell transforms into a scene of a fancy party full of people celebrating. Moreau appears next to the glass.

  “Is that Agent Magnus?” asks Moreau. “My, it has been a while, hasn’t it?”

  Agent Magnus’s face turns serious. “I take it you know why I’m here.”

  Moreau’s thin lips curve into a small grin. “I’ve heard talk from the guards about your precious Bureau being attacked. And by hybrids no less. Such pests. I do hope you called the exterminator.”

  “Enough with the games. We know Maria is trying to resurrect Vladimir for you!” Agent Magnus pounds the glass. “Tell us how to find her!”

  “You know nothing!” snaps Moreau. “I do, however, confess myself disappointed. I warned you when you captured me that another would take on the mantle and return us to our former glory. You laughed then at the idea that other magicians existed outside the Bureau’s knowledge. And today you show up with your brand-new magician in tow. It seems it’s my turn to laugh now!”

  Agent Magnus turns and starts toward Lord Kensington. “This is a waste of time.”

  Moreau is eyeing me now. “You had your chance to choose the winning side. Perhaps we can teach you to be less trusting. But then, maybe all Peters are gullible.”

  “Just shut up, okay? I told you, I’m on my brother’s side.” I turn to follow Agent Magnus, frowning at Moreau over my shoulder.

  But Moreau just shrugs. “Ah, well. I do appreciate your stopping by. Even if it amounted to little more than giggles and grins.”

  My whole body goes stiff. Giggles and grins.

  I hear Madame Violet’s voice in my head. “An illusionist should never trust that which giggles and grins . . .”

  I swallow. The words suddenly make sense. What’s the most obvious reason for an illusionist not to trust? Because we know that eyes can be tricked. It’s the very first lesson in her spell book: Never trust. Take absolutely nothing at face value. In viewing anything, assume its appearance is false until otherwise proven.

  The rest of what she said comes back to me. “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.”

  But she couldn’t have meant right now, could she? That’s when I remember what Moreau told me, the very first time we met. “There will only be one lie between us.”

  Right after he introduced himself.

  Slowly, I raise my hand toward Moreau, lifting two fingers. “Dispel.”

  The party scene vanishes. All that’s left is Moreau and his rocking chair. He tries to stand, his body shaking violently. Still he moves closer, limping on his left side . . .

  Agent Magnus steps up next to me. “What did you do to him?”

  But I don’t answer. Because I can already see the wrinkles and gray hairs begin to fade away. A shorter, paler, much younger man sneers at us . . .

  This can’t be happening.

  “Good!” the man grins darkly. “Very good. For now you truly understand the danger you are in. My master—a magician whose magic dwarfs your 100 percent—now possesses the Black Book!”

  “Who are you?” Agent Magnus demands.

  “I am but a lowly servant who has played his part in the grand scheme,” the man says. “Join us, girl. You won’t want to find out what we do to those who betray their fellow magicians!”

  It takes a second for me to process what it all means. Moreau was never captured. He’s the one behind all this.

  The most dangerous being in the supernatural world has the Black Book.

  Agent Magnus grabs me by both shoulders and crouches. “How did you know?”

  Voice shaky, I tell him about my trip to Madame Violet.

  “This changes everything,” says Agent Magnus, his eyes wide and panicked. “If we don’t get our hands on that key, the world might not last another twenty-four hours.”

  We dash to Lord Kensington. Agent Magnus shouts, “Take us directly to the chief!”

  31

  THIS ISN’T THE CHIEF’S OFFICE. THAT’S MY FIRST THOUGHT when Lord Kensington opens its doors.

  Instead, we’ve been brought to the Department of Supernatural Investigations.

  “I’m sorry,” says Lord Kensington. “I’ve been ordered to bring you here.”

  Director Van Helsing stands in the lobby, arms crossed. Behind him is a whole squadron of agents.

  “We ain’t got time for whatever this is,” says Agent Magnus. “Didn’t you get the alert? Moreau is free! The person who has the Black Book isn’t simply some apprentice magician. It’s one of the Night Brothers.”

  “I received the alert,” says Director Van Helsing. “Peters, come stand next to me.”

  “But—”

  “Do as he says,” Agent Magnus interrupts.

  I don’t feel good about it, but I do as I’m told. Director Van Helsing’s face hardens at the sight of my Junior Agent badge. “If I haven’t made this clear enough, there will be no magicians in my department as long as I am director.” He puts a finger to my badge and says, “Demoted!”

  And just like that my moonstone badge shrinks back into a trainee badge. I ball my fists at my sides. Dylan was right—his father never meant to give me a real chance.

  Director Van Helsing’s eyes return to Agent Magnus back in the elevator. “How curious that your first move would be to head to the prison to make this remarkable discovery. Convenient, wouldn’t you say? Look at Magnus the hero, instead of Magnus the accomplice. Despite our differences, not in a million years would I have pegged you for a traitor.”

  Magnus shakes his head. “Not even you’re dim enough to believe that, Van Helsing. Just what are you gettin’ at?”

  Director Van Helsing makes a motion with his arm and the agents move forward, surrounding the elevator. Van Helsing waits until they’re in position before he answers Agent Magnus. “We’ve discovered how the hybrids were able to teleport into the Bureau. You deactivated our shields.”

  “He didn’t!” I say. “It was—”

  “Quiet!” says Magnus.

  “Yes, Peters. Save your breath,” says Director Van Helsing. “This man doesn’t deserve your loyalty. No one has access to your codes but you, Magnus.” Director Van Helsing steps forward, his jaw clenched tight. “How far back does your treachery reach, I wonder? Maria looked up to you! Did you convince her to betray both her family and the Bureau?”

  “I’m being set up,” Magnus pleads. “Why would I be dumb enough to use a code that can easily be traced back to me? Why wouldn’t I run off instead of sticking around here?”

  “Both are questions I’m asking myself,” Director Van Helsing replies. “I’ve
simply followed the evidence, just as we’re taught. It leads to you, Magnus.”

  Agent Magnus huffs. “And I suppose you want me to make this easy on you and just turn myself in.”

  “Young Miss Peters is present,” Director Van Helsing replies. “I hope, for her sake, you’ll keep this a civil affair.”

  Agent Magnus’s intense eyes find mine and I can see he’s trying to tell me something. He raises his hands. “I’m surrendering.”

  My mind is spinning as I’m led by two agents back to the youth dormitories. Neither says a word till we get to my room. That’s when the taller one says, “The Bureau is on lockdown tonight. The director wants you available for questioning first thing tomorrow.”

  They don’t wait for me to answer. Both turn and head back down the hall.

  As soon as I step through the door, Elsie rushes over and pokes her head into the hallway, looking back and forth before closing the door behind me. “You’ve got a visitor.”

  That’s when Dylan crawls out from under my bed. It’s the first time we’ve seen each other since we followed Maria into the Great Vault.

  “What are you doing in here?” I ask.

  Dylan pulls himself up to a knee. “I heard about them tracing the codes back to Agent Magnus. There’s no way he would betray the Bureau like that. It had to be Maria.” His voice falters and he shakes his head. “She must’ve framed him or something. I should’ve listened to you about her.”

  Elsie throws a somber glance at the magazine covers framed above her bed. This goes against everything she’s ever believed about Maria. But she didn’t see Maria’s smirking face—Dylan’s sister enjoyed every second of betraying her father and the rest of the Bureau.

  “I know you may not trust me since I’m her brother,” says Dylan, “but I feel like it’s my responsibility to do something about it.”

  “It’s worse than Maria stealing the Black Book,” I say. “If you’ve been here then you probably haven’t heard that Moreau is free. I think one of his other apprentices was using an illusion to take his place.”

  Elsie’s hand goes to her mouth. “He’s free?”

  Dylan’s eyes go wide and he stumbles over his words before he’s finally able to say, “For how long? Was he ever even captured?”

  “I don’t know,” I say. “But I don’t think Magnus would want me focused on clearing his name. I think he’d rather I do what he can’t anymore—what my brother started before him.”

  “You can’t mean what I think you mean,” says Elsie.

  “I’m going to go after the Black Key,” I say. That has to be what Agent Magnus was trying to tell me with that look. And why he stopped me from telling Director Van Hel-sing about how Maria’s tech magic is capable of shutting down the Bureau’s shields. He doesn’t want me stuck here answering questions. He wants me out there getting that key.

  “Wait,” says Dylan. “You know where it is?”

  “Magnus was right about my brother hiding the location in a Farewell Briefcase,” I say. “We just have to get there before Moreau does and convince the Key Holder to give us the Black Key.”

  “I don’t know about this.” Elsie falls heavily onto her bed. “You’d be breaking the Bureau’s biggest oath. They could disband the entire Bureau for this. Amari, they’d throw you into Blackstone.”

  I swallow. “My brother went missing trying to prevent this. I have to try.”

  “If you’re really going to do this,” says Dylan, “then I’ve got your back. I won’t let Maria hurt anyone else.”

  Elsie sighs. “Then . . . I guess I’m coming too.”

  “No offense,” says Dylan. “But I don’t think that’s a good idea. Amari and I at least have Junior Agent training to defend ourselves.”

  “I’ve got all the gadgets I’ve been working on.” Elsie reaches under her bed and grabs a book bag full of contraptions and then looks to me. “Every time you get into trouble I just sit back or I hide. I’m sick of being that person. Please let me help.”

  “It’s my idea, so it’s my call,” I say. “Elsie comes.”

  “Fine,” says Dylan. “But if something happens to her that’s on you.”

  “Deal,” I say. “Now we just need a plan.”

  “Leave it to me,” says Dylan. “Just be ready to go.”

  At eight o’clock an announcement comes over the intercom.

  “Attention junior personnel and trainees, this is Chief Director Crowe speaking. In light of this morning’s attack, and after meeting with the directors of each department, I have decided to suspend this year’s summer camp. Until we can verify that none of our other security protections have been compromised, we cannot in good conscience allow children to remain inside the facility. We are in the process of notifying your parents. For those from non-legacy families, the cover story will be that our organization ran into a funding mishap that caused us to end summer camp prematurely.”

  My phone buzzes at the same time that Bertha stomps into the room. A quick glance shows it’s Mama. She must’ve gotten the news about camp being canceled. I slip my phone into my pocket.

  Bertha holds up a slip of paper that she reads from. “This is a Level Five notification. Amari Peters and Elsie Rodriguez are to report to the Transporter Room in the Department of Supernatural Licenses and Records right away.” Her face scrunches, but she continues reading. “They are to bring the necessary equipment, and they will already know what equipment that is. Signed Director Van Hel-sing, Department of Supernatural Investigations.”

  Bertha looks up at me. “Get to it, then! Director Van Helsing made his wishes pretty clear, I’d think!”

  “Oh yes, very clear,” I say. How in the world did Dylan pull this off?

  I grab my Stun Stick and Sky Sprints and Elsie straps on her backpack.

  Bertha hands me the note as we step out of my room. “You’ll need this to get by the security checkpoints.”

  I walk to the elevators in total disbelief.

  Mischief is waiting for us. “ID card or hall pass, please.”

  Elsie puts a hand on her hip. “Since when did you start acting like a proper elevator?”

  Mischief sighs. “My dirty-rascal chip gets deactivated during lockdowns. ID card or hall pass, please.”

  I hold up the slip Bertha gave us, and Mischief scans it.

  “Permission to travel to the Department of Supernatural Licenses and Records granted.”

  The large lobby of the Department of Supernatural Licenses and Records is completely empty and only one lady is seated at a booth. We walk over, and she clears her throat loudly. “Please grab a ticket.”

  “But we’re the only ones here,” I say.

  “Rules are rules,” she says.

  The lady makes us walk all the way across the lobby to grab a ticket, then waits for us to sit down before tapping the button that causes the speaker to chime, “Now serving A1 at the first window.”

  We show her the pass and she lets us into the main hall. An agent is stationed here, and I show him the pass too. He reads it, scratches his head in confusion, and then calls another agent farther down the hall to have a look.

  Finally, the agents let us through, but they watch us closely until we turn the corner into the Transporter Room.

  Dylan pops out from behind one of the glass tubes. “You made it. Wasn’t entirely sure that was going to work.”

  “Me neither,” I say. “But you do know we can’t teleport out of here during a lockdown. The security computer will shut us down.”

  “True,” says Dylan. “But only if you’re trying to teleport someplace outside the Bureau.”

  “You want to teleport us someplace inside the Bureau?” asks Elsie.

  “Yep,” says Dylan. “Just trust me on this one. I’ve already plugged in the destination.”

  Dylan leads us over to the teleporter he’s got powered on.

  I step into the glass tube and Dylan follows. Shouts come from behind us. It’s the agents we handed
the note to. They must’ve triple-checked.

  “Stop!” one of them shouts, sliding to a stop in front of us. Poor Elsie is between the agents and the teleporter. “Step aside, girl, and you two exit the transporter. Now!”

  Elsie takes a deep, trembling breath and looks back at us over her shoulder. “Go!”

  Dylan mashes a giant red button and the transporter begins to hum.

  At the sound, the agents rush toward us and I expect Elsie to run. But she stands her ground.

  And then my best friend breathes fire.

  Dylan and I reappear inside a wide concrete room. Along the walls are large stalls with all sorts of crazy vehicles parked inside them, everything from floating bicycles to flying saucers. Dylan starts forward but turns to look at me over his shoulder. “Did Elsie just . . . ?”

  I grin. “I think she really did.”

  It isn’t until we’re halfway across the large space that I see where Dylan is taking us—the Jolly Roger. The ship that belonged to my brother and his sister.

  “And just where do you think you’re headed?” Agent Fiona steps out from a stall labeled Winged Chariot.

  We stop cold. And three thoughts jump into my head. One, we’re so caught. Two, Agent Fiona is definitely cool enough to pull off a winged chariot. And three, we are so, so caught.

  Dylan and I each give completely different explanations at the same time. Agent Fiona just crosses her arms and looks me right in the eye. My whole body goes stiff.

  Agent Fiona blinks in surprise. “Magnus put ye up to this? Or do ye just think he wants you tracking down that key?”

  “He said that we’ve got to get our hands on that key,” I say, remembering Agent Magnus’s words.

  Agent Fiona claps her hand against her forehead. “I don’t understand what the man could be thinking! You’re just trainees, for heaven’s sake!”

  “He wanted to do it himself, but he got framed,” I say. “It’s a long story.”

  Agent Fiona grumbles. “Told that bumblin’ idiot director there’s no one more loyal than Beauregarde in the whole bloody Bureau.” She holds up her left wrist, where a device has been cuffed. “Van Helsing’s even tracking my movements in case I’m guilty of helping. Can’t step one foot outside the Bureau without setting off an alarm that’d have fifty agents come after me. Like I don’t have a kiddie of my own at home to check in on. The audacity of that man.”