The Magicians' Convention

by Elena Paige

  “A reporter at the convention? This is not good!” boomed the large voice. He was the roundest, tallest man Toby had ever seen.

  “Wow. What country is he from?” whispered Toby to Wesa as Thatch tried to convince the man to hand over his hat for testing.

  “Oh, that’s Harry Houdini. He’s Hungarian. Everyone knows him.” Wesa smiled up at the large man before her.

  “But Harry Houdini is dead,” said Toby, louder than he had intended.

  “Dead?” said Harry Houdini “Well, of course he’s dead. The original one is. I’m his great-great-nephew. Named after the man himself. Pleased to meet you.”

  Toby looked up at the giant-sized hand in front of his face and met it with his small one. His whole body vibrated as Harry shook hands with him. Toby noticed that Harry Houdini was wearing a purple hat. “Your hat is purple. So did the original Houdini have real magic too?”

  “Of course he did. How else did he get out of all those impossible restraints?” Harry chuckled so hard Toby was sure the ground beneath him was moving. Smiling at them all now, he handed Thatch his hat.

  “Thank you, sir. We won’t be a minute,” said Thatch, turning his back to Harry Houdini while trying not to look suspicious. Toby and Wesa both placed their hands on the hat to join Thatch’s and waited for something to happen.

  “What if nothing ever happens? What if it’s all just a joke?” said Toby, saying aloud what the others were also thinking.

  “Here’s your hat, sir. It’s genuine. You are not a reporter after all.” Thatch handed the hat back up to the tall man.

  “Of course I’m not a reporter. I could have told you that without giving you my hat. Goodbye, children! Come visit my stall if you have time,” he boomed, handing them business cards with his big jolly face on one side and the words HARRY HOUDINI MASTER ESCAPIST on the other. Harry Houdini waved at them as he bounced away.

  “I can’t believe I just met Harry Houdini. Well, his relative anyway. And I shook his hand!” Toby considered never washing it again.

  He felt a tug at the back of his shirt. Turning around, his face lit up.

  “It’s you!” he said, recognizing the small girl that had been standing outside his bedroom window earlier that morning.

  “You’re the boy in the window. I’m an illusionist too. See?” She took off her hat and held it out proudly. Toby noticed her crystal-green eyes twinkling at him as she rocked back and forth on her feet. “My name is Iriana. I’m Russian. We’re in Australia, you know. I’m five. ”

  “Oh, how cute you are,” said Wesa. “Toby, who is your little friend?”

  “So you really could see me in my bedroom this morning?” said Toby.

  “I knew you were magic when you were looking at me,” said Iriana sweetly.

  “Well, no, I’m not. I mean, of course I am.” Toby remembered he was wearing a hat now and had to pretend.

  “Only a magician would have seen us,” said Iriana.

  “Is that true?” whispered Toby to Wesa.

  “Yes, it is. Only a magician can see people lined up to enter a convention. There is an illusion placed on every doorway. Can you imagine if regular people could see a line of magicians lined up outside different houses all around the country?”

  There was so much Toby still didn’t know. Like why he could see the line of people when he wasn’t supposed to. Or why he, of all people, could activate this special magical hat they were searching for. He was positive he’d know if he had any magical ability whatsoever. He definitely wasn’t part of this world. In his panic to help get Grandpa back, he hadn’t even stopped to consider why he was the one chosen to find this hat.

  “So you went through Mrs. Inkwell’s house this morning? Are there other houses too?” said Toby.

  “Lots of houses in whatever country the convention is being held at,” said Iriana, still smiling.

  “Every year the convention is held in a different country. This year it happened to be in Australia. Where is your family, Iriana?” asked Wesa.

  “My brother is buying his first cape. He’s going to the Academy next year. He’s bigger than me,” she replied, pointing to a large corner stall where black capes lined with golden stars were being sold.

  “Can we please check your hat, little miss?” said Thatch, bringing them back to their mission.

  Iriana took her hat from her head and rocked from side to side. Her pretty red shoes made a clicking noise. “Yes. But those boys already checked it. Is there a bomb? They said there was.”

  Toby glanced at Thatch. “A bomb? No, of course not. Who told you that?”

  “The boys checking everybody’s hats. They’re mages. Papa didn’t like to hand over his hat, but he did. Mama said we should leave if there is a bomb. I said, ‘Please, mama, can we stay. I want to buy some new magic tricks to practice.’ Papa said we could stay.” Iriana clapped her hands excitedly.

  “Iriana, what did these other boys look like?” Wesa looked at Thatch and Toby with fear in her eyes.

  “Three boys. They all looked the same as each other. They had red hair, and they were mean and bossy.” She twisted her face to imitate the boys she spoke of.

  “I don’t understand why they’re checking the hats when they can’t activate it,” said Toby.

  “Shh,” said Thatch and Wesa simultaneously.

  They checked Iriana’s hat. Nothing happened.

  “I’ll see you later!” Iriana waved goodbye.

  Wesa, Toby, and Thatch looked at each other, their eyes full of questions. It was now one o’clock in the afternoon and they had made no progress.

  Stopping for a quick bite when Toby announced he was starving, they sat in the large eating area in the illusion hall, munching on burgers and fries.

  “Thanks. I missed breakfast,” said Toby with his mouth half full.

  “We can’t keep roaming aimlessly, checking everyone’s hats. There are just too many people here,” said Wesa.

  “And worse still, the Kirbys might find it first. Maybe they did touch me and I don’t remember,” said Wesa.

  “No way! They haven’t. I think they’re bluffing. Trying to psyche us out,” said Thatch. He played with his food instead of eating it.

  “How else can we find the hat if we’re not checking them all? We don’t have any clues whatsoever,” said Wesa flipping her burger from side to side. “We don’t even know whether it’s a mage or illusionist hat. It might be a plain old black one that isn’t even here at the convention.”

  “That’s true. Some clues would be useful. We’ve got nothing. Not even time is on our side,” said Thatch.

  Wesa dropped her burger in midbite. “Holly! She might know things the rest of us don’t know,” said Wesa.

  “That’s brilliant,” said Thatch.

  “Care to explain?” Toby was only half listening. His burger commanded most of his attention.

  “Come on. You’ll see when you meet her. She’s the perfect person to help us,” said Wesa.

  Toby dropped his burger and followed Wesa and Thatch back to the mage half of the convention. He’d missed the purple energy and creative magic all around him. Finding himself once more at the mage stage, he wondered what act would come next.

  They squeezed in between the people waiting for the next show. Whoever is performing must be super popular , thought Toby, as it seemed like everyone at the convention was here watching the show.

  Dramatic music introduced the next performer. A girl walked slowly onto the stage, pausing between steps. Toby wondered why she was up there. She couldn’t be the next magician performing. Could she? He took in her Doc Martens and ripped jeans and wondered why her parents let her get tattoos all over her arms at her age. She even had a tattoo on each of her cheeks, which made her look especially peculiar.

  “Is she a magician?” said Toby. He noticed she was wearing a purple top hat.

  “Shh,” said an angry-looking woman behind him. He felt her bump him in the back.

  Toby
had too many questions to stay silent.

  “Is she the one performing?” he whispered.

  “She talks to dead people. And she’s just the person who can help us,” said Wesa.

  Toby shuddered. Could she talk to his parents? Forgetting about the hat for a moment, he sat in stunned silence, waiting for the show to begin.

  14

  The Seer

  “You, sir. In the audience. Would you please step forward and onto the stage?” Holly’s voice instantly made the crowd go silent.

  Toby could hear his heart beating. Was she pointing at him? Luckily, it was the man standing directly behind Thatch and next to the woman who had bumped him.

  “Me? Are you sure?” said the man. He wore a golden hat.

  Toby worked out that the woman who had been nudging him to be quiet must be his wife. She held onto his arm, insisting he not go on the stage. But the man pushed her aside and made his way forward.

  After climbing the stage without steps or a ladder, the small man was short of breath.

  “A young child is here, sir,” said Holly, revealing her New Zealand roots. “She says her name is Meryl.” She paused as though she knew what would come next. Without showing any emotion, she passed him tissues .

  “She says she didn’t feel any pain. She wants you to know that.” The man fell to his knees, crying.

  “Do you want me to go on?” said the seer. Her face held no expression. Her voice had no compassion for the man weeping before her. Her eyes stared blankly.

  Toby felt the nudge on his back again. “Hey, watch it, lady!”

  He turned to see that she was ignoring him. Her face looked red and swollen. She pushed past him, knocking him into Wesa. Toby picked himself up, bringing his attention back to Holly and the man on the stage. He didn’t want to miss what was happening. The woman who had shoved past him pushed her way to the stage.

  “Stop! Enough! You’re upsetting him!” she yelled as she tried to climb the stage, which was a little too high for her. Failing, she yelled at her husband. “Stop this. Come here I tell you. I’m ordering you, Harold.”

  As murmurs spread through the crowd, Holly, now visibly shaking, looked at the woman and covered her mouth.

  “What is Meryl telling you? Please. How did she die?” cried Harold loudly.

  “Stop, I tell you. This is all hogwash. Harold. Come down from the stage this minute. Harold!”

  Holly stared at Harold’s wife in horror. Her face, caked in brown foundation, turned ghastly white. “I—I—can’t tell you anything else,” she said suddenly.

  Harold, still on his knees, grabbed hold of Holly’s leg. “Please. Please tell me how my daughter died?” Holly walked backward, dragging him across the stage with her.

  Toby’s mind was frantic. He looked from Holly to Harold, who was being dragged along the stage clinging tight to Holly’s leg. Harold’s wife was still screaming at them both from below the stage. His mind tried to piece the story together. Had Harold’s wife killed their daughter? Toby felt his mouth go dry.

  A dark-skinned man as big as a small garden shed stomped across the stage. He was covered in tattoos just like Holly, except his were of animals. Toby caught sight of an elephant with huge tusks on one arm and a gorilla with its teeth bared on the other.

  “That’s enough. Let go of her!” yelled the giant man as he kicked Harold in the side of the ribs. Harold let go of Holly, screaming in pain, and the giant-sized man picked him up as though he were a piece of dust.

  “That was a bit rough,” said Toby towards Wesa.

  “Shh,” she replied.

  Toby turned back, worried what would happen next. He imagined if Holly could talk to the dead, the dead would follow her everywhere she went and tell her the most interesting of things—like how they died. Could she talk to his mother and father, he wondered? He shook his head, bringing his attention back to the action on stage. This was too exciting and scary to miss.

  “Please tell me how Meryl died,” begged Harold as he slumped over the strong man’s shoulder.

  “She was—she was—poisoned,” said Holly. She looked at Harold’s wife, who was red-faced and screaming for her husband to be put down.

  Toby tried to catch his breath as he realized his guess must be right—Harold’s wife must have poisoned their daughter. Just as he was wondering how any mother could do something so callous to her own daughter, he spotted her pulling a wand from her cloak. On instinct alone, he charged headfirst through the crowd and into her. As his head hit her, he stepped back, avoiding a fall. He saw the woman land half on to the stage holding her wand high in the air so not to drop it. She turned to face Toby, fear and anger all over her face. She gritted her teeth at him. Toby closed his eyes and felt his old familiar urge to either run or faint. But before either could happen, he heard a roar come from the stage. He peeked one eye open to see what could possibly be happening now.

  The giant man on stage dropped Harold into the crowd and turned his attention toward Harold’s wife, who was now clearly pointing her wand towards Toby. His voice boomed over the people in the crowd frantically trying to get away. “You ruined my daughter’s performance!”

  He raised his hands in the air, and everyone in the crowd lifted from the ground. They twirled through the air, screaming, Toby and the others included. Toby kept his eye on the stage even as he spun upside down. He felt guilty for thinking this was rather fun, despite the commotion all around him.

  He could see Holly begging the strong man to release them.

  “Put them down, Dad, or you’ll be punished. Please put them down,” cried Holly.

  Toby felt himself dropping back to the ground. He fell heavily but landed on his hands and knees. He looked around at the disoriented crowd, feeling this was all going to end badly as many of them had pulled their wands from their cloaks. Children were crying uncontrollably. Mayhem had broken loose .

  Where were Wesa and Thatch? He looked around for them, ready to get out of this side of the pavilion—they needed to get back to finding that hat. Talking to Holly would have to wait.

  Standing up fully, he felt a strange sensation moving up his body. Toby looked down at his feet. The cold moving up his legs made him want to shake them, but instead, no matter how much his mind commanded them to move, they wouldn’t. What was happening to him? The cold was intense now and moved quickly up towards his torso. As it enveloped him completely, he felt unable to move. He wasn’t even able to blink, but luckily he could still shift his eyeballs and look around to see what was happening. It was then that he realized everyone around him was frozen just like him. Silence filled the space, making goose bumps cover Toby’s skin. This magic was getting a little scary. What else could some of the mages do?

  A voice, loud and clear, boomed out. “This is under control. Please compose yourselves. The magician has been apprehended and the performances will continue as planned. You shall be released in five, four, three, two . . .”

  As the number one was spoken, Toby felt the blood rush back into his body and warmth return to him. He and everyone around him were now able to move again. People put their wands away. Parents attended to their crying children. Toby looked for Harold and his wife, but they were nowhere to be seen. Had they escaped or been taken away?

  The giant tattooed man on the stage was still in a frozen position, his mouth wide open, his eyes filled with tears. Holly was on her knees, still on the stage. “Please let him go. He was just trying to protect me! ”

  But her father was high up in the air now. He floated across the room, higher than the floating candles, and out of sight.

  Spotting Wesa beside the stage stairs, Toby ran toward her.

  “Holly. I’m sorry about your dad, but we need your help,” said Wesa, taking hold of Holly’s arm as she stepped down from the stage.

  “Get your hands off me. I don’t even know you. My dad’s been taken. I need to find him.” Panic-stricken, Holly twisted her hands together.

  T
oby remembered that to Holly, Wesa looked like a stranger. “She’s not who you think she is,” he said.

  Holly looked from Toby to Wesa. Her makeup was streaked all down her face as the tears had dried in place. Her dark eyes so void of emotion when she was on stage were now filled with visible pain.

  “Holly, your dad is safe. You know it’s the protocol. He will be released at the end of the day, unharmed. There’s nothing you can do about it,” said Wesa.

  “But that man. He needed to know. His wife.” Holly covered her face crying. “I hate this job.”

  Toby didn’t know what to say.

  “Mr. Kirby will have floated him to safety,” said Wesa hugging Holly. “I don’t know where the security room is this year. But I do know he’s safe. Your father was only trying to protect you, but he would want you to finish your duties here at the convention.”

  Holly stopped pulling away and stared at Wesa strangely. Toby felt like she was staring right through her. Wiping her tears, she commanded, “I know who you are. Follow me. ”

  As Toby followed Holly and Wesa through the crowd, he suddenly remembered Thatch. Once they had floated back to the ground, Toby hadn’t seen him.

  “Wait. What about Thatch?” he called to Wesa, but she moved through the crowd and didn’t hear him.

  They reached a stall covered in crystal balls. Big ones, small ones, and everything in between. Tarot cards were spread across the table, ready to read someone’s fortune. The two girls stopped behind the table. As he heard Wesa explain who she was, and heard the seer say she already knew that it was Wesa, Toby moved the purple curtain aside to step into the private part of Holly’s stall. The girls would follow him, he assumed. Right now he needed to sit down.

  He was relieved to see a purple couch in the room. Heading toward it, he felt a sharp strike to the head. Everything went dark and silent.