by Amy Hopkins
You came back?
Penny gave a self-conscious laugh. “Yes, I did.”
The ghoul was banished from here. He is gone. Thanks to you. The pen dropped back to the table.
“That’s not why I’m here.” Penny took a deep breath. “I’m here for information, this time.” She gave the listening ghost—ghosts?—a brief explanation of the arcade game, the mysterious entity behind it, and her missing friend. “I’ve asked around the Myther community,” she finished. “They all said I’d need to talk to a local. So here I am.”
The pen sat on the altar, unmoving. It twitched, then rose again.
You are working with the godmothers.
It wasn’t a question but Penny nodded. “I asked one for help, yes. It’s good to see she followed through with her promise.”
We know of this entity you speak of. It is not spoken of, but we owe you a debt.
“Well, that goes both ways.” Penny knew she might be giving away her only advantage, but she wasn’t one to play an unfair hand. “When old cutthroat bailed us up in the kitchen, you guys saved our asses. I owe you for that.”
The very edges of Penny’s senses tingled and Boots gave a dry cough, a sound that usually signaled a chuckle. Penny narrowed her eyes at the serpent, but bit her tongue. She didn’t want to interrupt her otherworldly conversation in case the ghosts disappeared completely.
The ones you seek exist in the shadows. That is their purpose, their identity. Only the brightest of lights will vanquish them. Do not leave them even a sliver of darkness to withdraw to.
“How do I find them?” Penny asked urgently.
You do not. The pen jostled, fell, and moved again as though two invisible hands fought over it. After a tense pause, it began to write again. They know you seek them. They will find you. Be careful, Penny Hingston.
The pen fell with a clatter, landing on the tiled floor as the candles snuffed out. Turning on a flashlight, she reread the final message the ghosts had left her. They will find you.
Penny shivered, goosebumps pricking at her arms. “Well. I guess that conversation is over.”
Boots hissed and slithered over to her. She picked up the pen between delicate fangs and dropped it into the open knapsack.
Penny dismantled the tiny altar, wrapped the still-warm candles in the cloth, and packed everything away. She kept the notebook out, not wanting to risk any damage from warm candle wax.
“Come on, in you go.” Penny held the bag open for Boots, who wriggled in and ducked her head so Penny could zip it up.
DeLouise jumped when Penny emerged.
“Sorry.” Penny gave an embarrassed grin. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
"Who said that I was scared?" DeLouise gave Penny a defiant glare, though there was a tell-tale twinkle in her eye. "Right?"
"Right." Penny gestured toward the front doors of the theatre. The waitress had leaned her back on one of the glass panels and was puffing away at a cigarette. "Shall we go?"
DeLouise nodded and started toward the exit. "Did you get what you needed?"
"Close enough," Penny answered. To be honest, she wasn't sure exactly how to interpret the information she had been given. She knew that the clandestine organization was very good at hiding. Shine the light? She didn't think the ghosts were being literal, though the image of their hidden compound being lit up by searchlights and broadcast all over the local news gave her a grim satisfaction.
They left the Baghdad side-by-side after DeLouise stopped for a quick word with the waitress. "You hungry?" The FBI agent asked as she unlocked the car. "I'd kill for a burger."
Penny shook her head. Staying up this late wreaked havoc with her metabolism. She was, in fact, starving, and her earlier use of the healing staff hadn't helped. Boots had twitched at the mention of food, though. Penny didn't want to risk the serpent revealing herself to the agent.
DeLouise chuckled. "It's okay, Boots. I know you're in there."
Boots shoved her nose out of the top of her bag, raising her head and hissing happily. Wincing, Penny asked the agent how she figured it out.
"You know those pregnant women that always have a hand on the stomach?" DeLouise pointed to Boots’ hiding spot. "That's you and that bag. You haven't noticed how you wrap your arms around it and constantly pat it when Boots is inside?"
"I do not!" After a moment's consideration, Penny had to backtrack that statement. "Okay, but it's not that noticeable."
"It's my job to notice things." DeLouise rounded a corner, then pointed toward the glowing lights of a nearby diner. "Last chance."
Boots twisted and wiggled, freeing her tail so she could point in the direction of the offered food.
"We'd love to stop," Penny admitted dryly.
Chapter Eighteen
Days passed. Penny was finally allowed access to the arcade machine, only to find the high scores had been wiped. The forensics team denied it was them, and Penny was inclined to believe them. Deleting a few pixels on a screen was surely easier than making that machine appear in the blink of an eye.
In fact, a new machine had appeared at Tony’s the day after this one had been taken. The cafe owner had been dubious about keeping it, but Penny pointed out it was probably better to cordon it off, rather than risk yet another one popping up for some poor sap to use.
Crenel’s contacts at the local police precincts finally came through, but Penny’s interview with the two kidnapped men was a bust. Though both had been as helpful as they could, whatever their captors had done to them had wiped every memory of their time away, as well as the game itself.
Even Esmerelda had come up bust. A bluebird had swooped into the dining hall one morning, narrowly avoiding a curious nip from Boots. It dropped a tiny scroll in Penny’s eggs and darted out the window.
I apologize for the delay, and for my lack of assistance. The information you seek is not known to those I associate with. I do hope you find the boy. —E.
And, the final blow to Penny’s plans, she had made no progress in tracking down Trevor’s mysterious partner. He hadn’t kept a single written note in his room and his laptop and phone were locked down tight, with security that even the FBI task force hadn’t been able to crack.
Unable to come up with any more leads, Penny had no choice but to wait for the day the organization was due to collect Tony’s machines for servicing.
At each class, a professor would call Penny aside to ask if there was any news yet. Each time, it drove home the fact that there was nothing to do but wait. Lectures passed by in a blur, Penny's mind was too preoccupied to pay attention. Thankfully, her instructors were sympathetic to this fact. She ended the week with a fat stack of class notes to go over when she was in a better frame of mind.
The only professors who didn't give her any quarter were Glass and Steele.
Glass pushed her harder than ever. Penny didn't mind. The physical nature of his classes numbed her mind and worked her body to exhaustion. He insisted distraction was no excuse for sloppiness, and that out in the real world, this was something his students would simply have to learn to deal with.
Penny knew he was right. She welcomed the chance to hone her skills in preparation for the day when she would finally catch up with those who had taken her friend. She welcomed his brisk manner and lack of sympathy. After each fitness and defense lesson, she came out bone-weary and dripping with sweat, her mind finally too tired to focus on the needling anxiety she otherwise felt.
Though she welcomed Glass's strictness, Steele's rankled her. The New Zealander constantly prodded her with questions about Boots—her diet, her habits, her intelligence. More and more, Penny found herself holding back answers, especially regarding the extent to which Boots understood the world around her.
"You need to study her more thoroughly," Steele repeated for about the third time that lesson. "Your grades depend upon it."
Penny's irritation bubbled over. "I thought my grades depended on a thorough knowledge of myth and Lege
nd across the Australasian regions. Not the shitting habits of my pet snake."
Steele's eyes narrowed, but she turned away. "Fine. We'll focus on Balinese archaeology instead."
Penny guessed that the topic was supposed to be a form of punishment. The history behind various ancient sculptures and statues was something she would normally find tedious. Today, she was just glad that the topic was no longer her friend.
When the final bell sounded for the evening, Penny didn't wait for her instructor’s permission to pack up her things and leave. She slammed her books into her bag and stalked out without a goodbye.
She met Amelia in the dining room. "Thank God that's over."
Amelia passed Penny Boots’ bag. "That bad?"
Penny peeked in the bag. Boots was either sleeping soundly or doing a really good job of pretending. She had asked Amelia to watch the serpent during her class since the idea of subjecting Boots to Steele's probing questions made her feel sick. "Thanks for watching her."
"It was hardly difficult." Amelia shoved her head into the bag and cooed. "You're such a precious girl, aren't you?"
Boots finally roused at this, sleepily emerging to flick a tongue at Amelia's nose.
"Suck up." Penny took the bag and headed for a table. "How are you going with that research?"
Amelia groaned and flopped into her seat with a dramatic flounce. "I hate research. Seriously, trawling these ancient message boards full of stuff I don't understand is a whole kind of hell in itself. I mean, there was this whole thing about camping! Cool, I thought, I love camping. But they weren't talking about camping, but some kind of cheat. Or maybe it was just a clever strategy, I don't really know." Amelia pulled a notebook out of her bag and tossed it toward Penny. "This is all I got on Polybius."
Penny flicked the cover open. The book was crammed with neat, tiny handwriting with occasional notes in the margin. A dozen pages in, however, and the rest was blank.
Rather than feel deflated, Penny mustered a grin. "It's better than nothing, and loads better than I could have done, mate."
"Don't get excited until you read it," Amelia warned. “The most interesting thing about the whole damn thing is that there is no information."
"I'm sure it's not that bad." Penny had read Amelia's class notes before and knew her friend was meticulous and concise.
“No, I mean it.” Amelia drummed her fingers on the table. “Whoever this organization is, they’re sneaky. Like, really sneaky. I mean, they’ve been operating for what, four or five months at least? Any other Myther event would have hundreds of posts online about it. This?” Amelia shook her head, solemn. “It’s just not talked about, to the point where it’s like the information has been wiped.”
“How would you even know that?” Penny asked dubiously. If information isn’t there, it simply isn’t there, right?
Amelia opened the notebook and flicked through a few pages. She jabbed a finger at one entry. HunterX: no log entries on relevant days.
“Hunter posts daily, even if nothing new is going on. All the dates I looked up, the days those boys were both reported missing, the days they re-appeared—nothing. Nada, zilch, zero. That’s a giant red flag, Penny.”
“Maybe he was just busy?” Penny suggested. “Did you ask him?”
“Her,” Amelia clarified. “I’m pretty sure it is, anyway. And yeah, I sent her an email.” She fiddled with her phone, reflexively waking it up to check her notifications. “She hasn’t responded yet.”
“That’s because email isn’t safe.” A small girl with black hair slammed a stack of folders on the dining table beside Penny. She lifted a pierced eyebrow and jutted her chin at Amelia. “Seriously, these guys are everywhere, tracking digital footprints and hacking into servers at the drop of a hat to delete information. Why on earth would you think your email is secure?” She tilted her head up and regarded Amelia through narrowed eyes. “What’s your interest in Polybius, anyway?”
Penny opened her mouth to answer but Amelia got in first.
“You’re Hunter X? Little Jessie Grey is Hunter X?” Amelia hastily wiped her grin away when the girl scowled.
Jessie folded her arms and lifted her eyebrows haughtily. “Yeah? So what if I am?”
Amelia pulled a chair out and gestured for the girl to sit. “If you are, we’re in the company of greatness. Hunter X is the online source for all things Myther. No one else is better at sniffing out a mystery or busting a hoax.” She glanced around, then leaned closer. “How’d you get in here? If you get caught sneaking into this academy, they’ll—”
Jessie snorted. “I’m a student, thank you. Cybermyth track.”
“I haven’t seen you in Prof Anand’s class,” Penny pointed out. “What year are you?”
“First.” Jessie grimaced. “They won’t actually let me take Cyber until third semester, but I’ve already got my name down. Trevor was sneaking me notes so I could get a head start on the class. In return, I agreed to help him with his case.”
Penny’s stomach dropped. “You said ‘was.’”
Rolling her eyes, Jessie slapped a hand on the files. “Duh. He disappeared. Taken by those goons who kidnapped the other two geeks, only they haven’t brought Trevor back.”
“But why?” Penny demanded. “Why not drop Trevor back with a bit of mind voodoo?”
“Because he knows too much. And because the three weeks aren’t up. That’s probably relevant.” Jessie leaned forward in her seat. “Look, I know I’m not as old as you guys, or as pretty or cool.” Somehow the look on her face suggested she thought she was actually quite a bit more “pretty and cool” than Penny and Amelia. “And I’m not trained to go out in the field yet. But Trevor was my friend, and he knew something was up with that game. He linked me all the rumors that started in the eighties, and it gets so much weirder.”
She waited for Penny and Amelia to ask before continuing. “Every time I post about it on my boards, the posts disappear a few hours later. There were the two disappearances, and now Trevor...” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Whoever these guys are, they’re smart.” Jessie’s eyes darted around and she stood. “The green folder is the one you want,” she hissed, then added loudly. “Like, yeah, girls. We should totally party this weekend.” Rolling her eyes, she stalked off.
“Who… What?” Penny watched her go, trying not to let her jaw hang open.
“I used to babysit that kid,” Amelia told Penny. “She hasn’t changed a bit.”
“You babysat her?” Penny asked.
Amelia nodded. “She’d probably kill me if she knew I told you, but yeah. She lived at the other end of my street. Her mom was worried her tiny little goth baby wasn’t ‘integrating into society’ enough so she would pay me to watch her after school.”
“I bet that was a blast.” Penny reached for the green folder. “Did she always have so much attitude?”
Amelia chortled. “No. She probably got it off me, in fact. I’m the one who taught her how to apply that eyeliner and how to stand up to her mom.”
“Oh.” Penny tipped her head to one side, thinking. “How old is she?”
“There are four years between us,” Amelia explained. “So, almost eighteen?”
Penny raised her eyebrows. Eighteen, and Crenel told me they only take the best, the ones with a bit of life experience. “If the Academy brought Jessie in at such a young age, she must have been an outstanding candidate.”
“That, or she blackmailed them.” Amelia didn’t seem to be joking. “But hey, she’s given us a bunch of information. Maybe it’ll help us to find Trevor.”
Penny skipped classes the next day. She holed up in her room with Boots and Amelia, combing through Jessie’s stack of research. It contained lists of arcade machine appearances, dates of disappearances and reappearances, and the address Penny had visited with Red and Amelia. That had been circled in red pen with a post-it note stuck on top that said ‘likely trap.’ Penny snorted at that, then crossed out “likely” and penciled i
n “definitely.”
It seemed the goons always traveled in pairs and drove nondescript black SUVs. They would always arrive to collect the machine data on schedule, and the money was always left with the owner of the location.
Penny learned that both men who had been kidnapped had interacted with the goons. The younger one who’d disappeared from the pool had argued with one when he was in the middle of a game. They had wanted to “run their update” and clean out the cash box, but he’d insisted on finishing his turn. When they offered him a handful of quarters as “compensation,” he had refused. That day, the goons had simply walked out, climbed in their van, and, according to the dashcam footage of a car that had driven past, radioed someone before driving off.
“How did she even get access to this stuff?” Penny asked. “Let alone track it down in the first place.”
“When she was six, she rigged up her nanny-cam to a looping still so she could sneak into the kitchen and raid the snacks,” Amelia told her proudly. “This was probably a piece of cake.”
What Jessie hadn’t figured out—and what Penny needed to know most—was where the hell they came from. The vans, the machines… All of it must be stored in a location, and that location was more than likely where they were holding Trevor.
“There’s just one more thing to try,” Penny muttered.
“You’re gonna do something really dumb, aren’t you?” Amelia asked.
Penny shrugged one shoulder. “Is it really that dumb if it works?”
Chapter Nineteen
Penny leaned forward to peek around the corner. “There they are!”
Cisco tossed her a helmet and started his bike engine. “Let’s go.”
The low rumble made Penny wince, but she threw a leg over the bike and wrapped her arms around Cisco’s waist. The bike rolled forward smoothly, out of the alley and into the street. Cisco faced the bike away from Tony’s coffee shop, parking it two spaces behind the shiny black SUV instead. Two men were just yanking the front doors open to get into the van.
