by Morgan Rice
Suddenly, the doors to the inn burst open. Oliver turned to see what was happening. A group of people were standing in the doorway, silhouetted against the rain. They were brandishing clubs and flaming torches.
Oliver sighed. “Not again.”
“We heard there were witches!” the leader brayed, stomping into the inn.
The others followed him inside and Oliver got a clearer view of the weapons they were brandishing. One was holding chains with balls on the end, another nunchucks. A third wielded a nasty-looking club with bits of sharp metal sticking out of it. Oliver didn’t like the idea of being on the receiving end of that.
The leader of the peasant pack looked at the barman. He was still trembling, his fearful gaze locked on the three children.
“No… no witches,” he stammered, clearly too scared of an imagined retribution to admit it. “Just some kids.”
The group of vigilantes looked suspiciously at Oliver, Esther, and Ralph. Oliver tried to make his face look as innocent as possible. He really didn’t want to get embroiled in another fight.
But suddenly, a large boom sounded out from behind him. Oliver flinched at the noise. He saw the expressions on the faces of the vigilantes immediately turn to horror.
Oliver twirled on the spot to see what was happening behind him. To his dismay, a swirling black and purple vortex was growing in the middle of the room.
“A time portal!” Esther cried.
Oliver staggered back, bumping into the vigilantes who moments earlier had come to fight but were now fearfully entranced by the growing portal.
“Do you think Professor Amethyst sent it for us?” Ralph asked.
But Oliver shook his head. This wasn’t right. He felt a horrible sense of approaching doom.
Suddenly, from the vortex, people started to emerge, marching confidently into the inn. It was a group of kids. They were all around the same age as Esther, Ralph, and Oliver, and they were wearing black uniforms.
Oliver gasped as he realized that this must be the pack of students Ralph had told them about who attacked the school. Not an army but a group of school kids.
Then something so unexpected happened Oliver could hardly get his head around it.
The last figure to emerge through the portal muscled his way through the pack of kids until he was standing at the front. It was someone Oliver thought he’d never see again. It was none other than his brother, Chris.
“Hello, Oliver,” Chris said menacingly. “Surprised to see me?”
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
Chris’s body felt very strange after stepping through the time portal, like his shoes were suddenly made of lead. It was a peculiar feeling but it paled in comparison to the elation he felt looking at the expression on Oliver’s face. That was priceless. All the pain he’d gone through in Mistress Obsidian’s office had been worth it just for this moment.
“What’s this?” Malcolm said, nodding to the group of peasants standing behind Oliver brandishing weapons. “The welcoming committee?”
Chris heard a smattering of laughter come from the Obsidian students. He gritted his teeth. He didn’t want them looking to Malcolm as leader. He wanted to command them. He’d have to show off his strength in order to take his rightful place as boss.
“What’s going on?” Oliver stammered. “Why are you here? How are you here?”
Chris smirked. “You always thought you were the special one. With your inventions and your powers. Well, guess what? Now I’m special, too.”
Oliver shook his head. He looked pained, like he was on the verge of tears. It made Chris’s heart thump with vengeful joy.
“How?” Oliver yelled. “You can’t be a seer too!”
Chris folded his arms. “Well, I am. And all I had to do was swallow a bit of a star!”
“It doesn’t work like that,” his pathetic little brother refuted. “You can’t just swallow a star and become a seer! The universe must gift you the powers.”
Chris looked at Malcolm out of the corner of his eye. As much as he disliked the weaselly-looking boy, he did trust that he and Mistress Obsidian had imbued him with seer powers.
“Yeah?” Chris jeered. “Then how can I do this?”
He threw his hands forward in front of him and tried to shove Oliver backward, just as he’d seen Malcolm do.
But nothing happened. Chris felt his cheeks burn. Why wasn’t it working?
Quickly, he grabbed a pint glass from the table. It turned to liquid in his hand. He grinned triumphantly at the stunned look on Oliver’s face.
“A witch!” one of the peasants cried.
Suddenly, they were charging forward at the Obsidians, waving their flaming torches. Chris managed to grab hold of a torch as it swung toward his face. He wrenched it from the hands of the man holding it. He tried to jab it back at his attacker but the whole thing melted in his hands, flame and all. His fledgling powers were proving a little difficult to control.
All around Chris, the Obsidians started battling with the local peasants. Chris reveled in the chaos. This was brilliant! He’d been given a license to wreak havoc. As flames and lightning bolts shot over his head, he ducked out of the way, laughing with glee at the thrill of it all.
Without a weapon, the peasant Chris had first been confronted by lunged at him with his hands bared, going straight for his throat. But what the peasant wasn’t counting on was that hand-to-hand combat was Chris’s first passion, and he was far more adept at using his elbows and self-defense skills than he was at using his powers.
He slammed the heel of his hand into the man’s chin. The man staggered back, dazed. He’d bitten his tongue in the attack and stammered with a lisp, “I’m outta here.”
Then he scarpered out the door.
Chris waved his fist triumphantly. “Yeah! Get lost, you loser!”
The rest of the peasants scurried from the inn hastily. Even the barman left, shouting, “You’re animals! All of you! A pack of filthy animals!”
Then the door slammed shut and the only people left were the seers.
The Obsidians stood there, panting, staring at the three Amethyst seers.
Chris stood triumphantly at the head of them. He locked his eyes on Oliver. “See? Now that I’m a seer like you, I can kick your butt properly.” He pummeled his fist into his palm. “You and your goofy friends.”
He couldn’t help but laugh. It was so satisfying to see the smug, goody-two-shoes Oliver finally brought down a peg or two.
But suddenly, Malcolm muscled his way forward so he was standing beside Chris. Chris glared at him. He was trying to steal his thunder. Encroaching on Chris’s moment of triumphant, the moment Mistress Obsidian had tasked to him.
“We have the Orb!” Malcolm told Oliver.
Though Chris had no idea what that meant, he could tell by Oliver’s expression that this was a shocking revelation. His little brother looked like he’d been stung in the mouth by a bee.
“And it’s been hidden,” Malcolm continued. “Without it, your pathetic school will collapse.”
“Why did you even come here then?” Oliver demanded. “If you already have the Orb? If our school is already going to crumble? What do you want with us?”
Chris slammed his fist into his palm. “We came here to destroy you.”
Oliver’s eyes darted all over the place, as if looking for an escape route. But Chris knew there was none. There was no way out for his brother or his pathetic friends. He had them this time.
“Ralph…” Oliver said, looking over at the tall, gangly boy beside him. “Use the knife.”
“What?” Ralph cried. “No!”
“There’s no other way!” Oliver stammered.
Just then, Chris saw the tall boy, Ralph, pull a knife from his pocket. It was exactly the same as the one Mistress Obsidian had used to slice open the dimension.
“Hey! You’re not allowed that!” Chris bellowed at Ralph. “Only Mistress Obsidian can use that knife!”
He lu
nged forward for it, feeling a strange sense of loyalty for the woman who’d plucked him from obscurity and given him the power to get his own back on Oliver.
But Ralph stabbed out with the knife, just nicking Chris’s skin. Chris winced and drew his arm back into his chest.
“You’re going to regret that,” he sneered.
All at once, the pack of kids behind him advanced on Oliver and his two friends, backing them into a corner.
Now, they were toast.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
Chris watched, his arms folded, his grin spreading across his lips. But when his posse was a mere inch from getting them, they all stopped.
“What are you doing?” Chris demanded.
Malcolm turned, his face angry with rage. “There’s a shield. One of them must have a sonic specialism.”
Chris hadn’t really listened to Malcolm’s explanation of the different seer specialisms, nor of the differences between cobalt and bromine, nor any of the scientific mumbo-jumbo. All he cared about was being strong and fighting. But his own powers were virtually non-existent at the moment, although according to Mistress Obsidian they’d develop over time. To see his gang floundering helplessly because of a stupid shield made him furious.
“Do something!” he screamed. “Zap them with lightning or laser beams from your eyes or whatever it is you do!”
But it was no good. They’d been completely disabled by the shield.
Malcolm turned on Chris. “You do something if you’re so powerful!”
*
Oliver could hardly believe what was going on. Chris was a seer! He’d just waltzed through a time portal into 1690 to destroy him! It was impossible to comprehend.
Esther’s shield was holding the evil school kids back but Oliver knew she wouldn’t be able to hold it forever. They were trapped. Outnumbered. There was no way out.
As Chris argued furiously with one of the Obsidians, Oliver heard a noise come from the window behind him. It sounded like psst.
He stole a quick glance behind him. To his surprise, there was a boy there, peering through the window, which he’d wedged slightly open.
“Come on,” the boy said, beckoning.
Oliver realized this was their chance. The Obsidians were blocked behind a shield. Chris was distracted, too busy arguing with the other boy. They could slip out the window!
“Esther. Ralph,” he said out the corner of his mouth. “This way.”
Oliver ran for the window and squeezed through the small opening. A second later, Esther tumbled after him. Finally, Ralph did the same. They’d all escaped unscathed.
Oliver stared at the boy who’d come to the window. He looked familiar.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“No time for that,” the boy replied. “Quick. This way!”
He started to run.
Oliver followed, going as fast as his legs could carry him. The cold London air stung his lungs. Beside him, Esther and Ralph ran just as hard, their expressions mirror images of his own. None of them could comprehend what had just happened.
When they were finally satisfied that they’d lost Chris and the rest of the Obsidians, they drew to a halt in a narrow side alleyway and took huge gasps of breath.
“What the heck is going on?” Esther said.
Oliver shook his head. “That was my brother.” He could hardly believe what he was saying. “He’s a seer…”
Ralph frowned. “But how? And what’s he doing with those kids who attacked the School for Seers?”
“They’re a rival school,” Oliver said as it all started to sink into place in his mind. “Didn’t you hear what Chris said about the knife? That Mistress Obsidian is the only one who’s allowed one. She sounds like a teacher, doesn’t she? And I’m sure I’ve heard that name before.”
He racked his brain, searching through his memories.
“That’s it!” Oliver clicked his fingers as it came back to him in a sudden whoosh. “Professor Amethyst mentioned the name before. Back when I did my seer test in his office. He said that I was the rarest type of seer, an atomic specialism with a bromine-cobalt mix. Then he said something like, ‘I don’t think even Mistress Obsidian has had a unique seer like you.’ Do you think Mistress Obsidian could be a rival headmistress?”
Ralph nodded.
“None of this makes sense,” Esther stammered. “There aren’t supposed to be any seer schools other than the School for Seers! And what was all that about Chris getting his powers from swallowing a star? That’s not how someone becomes a seer!” Her voice dropped morosely. “I feel like Professor Amethyst has been lying to us.”
Oliver shook his head. “We can’t know for certain. He may have hidden the truth about the evil school to protect us.”
Ralph spoke up. “Well, we can’t spend all day discussing it. None of that matters. We need to find the Orb.”
Just then, a cough interrupted them. Everyone turned, surprised, having completely forgotten about the mysterious boy who’d gotten them out of a tight corner.
“I can help you,” the boy said. “I’m a seer.”
Everyone gasped.
“Don’t you recognize me?” he added.
The boy removed his flat cap. All at once, Oliver realized it was the poor stable boy from Newton’s country manor, the one who’d been clipped around the ear by the mean maid, Miss Dean.
“Yes… yes, I do,” Oliver replied. “But what are you doing here in London?”
“I’ll explain everything on the way,” the boy said. He turned and started to run again.
“On the way where?” Oliver asked.
The boy looked over his shoulder. “The London School for the Future-Sighted, of course!”
Oliver exchanged a look with Esther and Ralph.
“That must be the shrouded school?” Esther said.
Oliver shrugged. “There’s only one way to find out.”
They hurried after the boy.
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
“Where is he?” Chris bellowed, glaring at the far end of the inn, at the place where Oliver and his friends had previously stood.
Malcolm turned too, gaping at the open window. “They escaped!”
Chris turned and thumped his fist against the wall of the inn. He immediately winced and pulled it into his chest to cradle. He was so furious. Mistress Obsidian had given him an amazing opportunity to pulverize Oliver once and for all—and a whole gang of seers to help—and yet somehow he’d escaped. Right when they’d had him cornered! It was too infuriating.
He turned back, directing his annoyance at Malcolm. “How could you let this happen?”
Malcolm’s face turned rageful. “Me? What about you? What did you do? You just stood there!”
Chris glowered at him. “I used up my powers earlier. When will I get more? Why did they fail so quickly?”
“It can take up to a day to digest a star,” Malcolm replied. Then with a sneer of disgust, he added, “Longer for those of a tubbier disposition.”
Anger flamed in Chris’s stomach, racing through his body and into his face. How dare he?
He grabbed Malcolm, his rage boiling over, and shoved him back against the brick wall, pinning him there.
“Did you do this on purpose?” he demanded. “Did you make it so my powers would weaken like that, so you could lead?”
Malcolm pushed back with his arms, but Chris barely moved an inch. He was far bulkier and physically stronger, even if his powers were weak in comparison.
“You’re an idiot,” Malcolm said. “Your powers come from the universe. It’s got nothing to do with me.”
“Don’t you dare call me an idiot!” Chris bellowed.
He slammed his palm into the wall right next to Malcolm’s head, making him flinch. But Malcolm wasn’t going to just stand there and take it.
Using his powers, Malcolm pushed Chris backward. He went flying across the room, smashing into a table. It crashed beneath him, sending him sprawling to the f
loor.
All the Obsidian spectators gasped with excitement.
Chris groaned, winded from the blow. But he wasn’t giving up that easily.
If they want a fight, I’ll give them one, he thought.
He pulled himself up to his feet and charged Malcolm like a bull at a matador. But Malcolm held his hand out, pushing out with his invisible powers. Chris ran headlong into some kind of barrier. He felt his head slam into it, as if he’d run straight into a brick wall. He fell to the ground in agonizing pain.
From all around him, he could hear the Obsidians laughing. He wasn’t going to stand for it. No one laughed at Christopher Blue.
He tried to get up but his head was spinning. Black stars swam in his eyes. He couldn’t get his balance enough to push himself to standing.
All at once, Malcolm was looming over him. He crouched down on one knee and grabbed a fistful of Chris’s T-shirt. Then he yanked it toward him in one sharp movement, lifting Chris clean off the ground. Their faces were just an inch apart.
“I think you’re forgetting who’s leader here,” Malcolm said in a sharp whisper.
Chris’s head was still swimming but he was just able to formulate a sentence. “The strongest leads. That’s what Mistress Obsidian said.”
“And the strongest is me,” Malcolm replied.
Then he pulled his fist into the air and brought it crashing into the side of Chris’s head.
Pain bloomed across Chris’s face . He’d never felt anything like it. In all his years as a bully, NO ONE had succeeded in beating him up.
Another blow came from Malcolm’s bony knuckles and this time Chris tasted iron in his mouth. The weasel had split his lip!
He tried to shove Malcolm off but Malcolm must have been using his powers to keep him bound because Chris seemed unable to move.
He’s cheating, he thought to himself. It’s not a fair fight.
Chris spat to the side, his lip stinging from the split in it. Then a third punch got him right in the ear, making it ring. It was so painful, Chris wanted to scream. But he wasn’t going to give Malcolm the satisfaction.
