by Bret Schulte
They had also saved the world on two separate occasions. In college her parents defeated a world-hungry sorceror named Cervantes. According to her mother, Sam’s parents might never have fallen in love if they hadn’t had to work together to defeat him. Sam was six when she first heard the story, and it always sounded like some sort of fantastic romantic fairy tale to her.
The second time they saved the world turned out to be far less romantic. Sam was nine at the time and her parents had toned down their globetrotting lifestyle to do the whole family thing. One day her dad got the idea to donate some of her late grandfather’s artifacts to a museum, so they took a rare trip to Hathaway Manor in New Jersey, which was so full of the family’s discoveries and inventions it was practically a museum itself. But when they got there they discovered that someone had broken into the mansion. Her parents called the BEA and rushed into the house. Twenty minutes later, the entire house was destroyed in a flash of light. The BEA agents arrived some time later to find Sam sitting alone in the car staring at the hole in the ground that used to be her life.
The entire matter was classified top secret, but they assured her that her parents had somehow saved the lives of everyone on Earth, and then they swore her to secrecy about the BEA, her parents’ adventures, and everything she knew about magic, which was pratically nothing anyway. The day she lost her parents was the first and last time she had met a BEA agent, until today.
Now this Albion guy showed up from who-knows-where accusing Sam of stealing something she had never even heard of and claiming that her family was a bunch of thieves. She wasn’t about to let him get away with that.
It was time to start asking some questions.
“So is anyone going to tell me why that, uh, warlock I guess, was so angry with me?”
“They prefer wizard. Or sorcerer,” Agent Rosenberg answered from the passenger seat. “And Albion is always angry. He’s a fossil from the old days. The poor guy really should retire.”
Agent Sampson cleared his throat in a serious manner. “Chief Constable Albion is a great man and was one of the International Sorcerers Guild’s best field agents in his day. He banished the strangling fungus back to Monster Island, and he cleared all the ghost pirates out of Hong Kong.”
“That’s interesting, and a little frightening,” Sam said. “But why is he coming after me?”
“The Lantern of the Blue Flame.”
“But what is it?” Sam asked.
The agents exchanged a brief unreadable look before Agent Sampson returned his attention to the road.
“It’s a very dangerous magical object that had been missing for two thousand years, long enough that most people believed that it never existed in the first place. But a tenacious few kept obsessively searching for it, including Albion. It was the Holy Grail of lost artifacts--except, of course, for the actual Holy Grail. But in 1974 your grandfather, Dr. Samuel Hathaway Sr., found it hidden in a secret chamber in the tomb of Emperor Qin, the first emperor of China.”
Agent Rosenberg twisted in her seat so she could look directly at Sam.
“Now, Sam, we want you to know that you will not get in any trouble for this. Do you know where the Lantern of the Blue Flame is?” she asked sincerely.
Sam couldn’t believe it. In less than ten minutes these people had gone from defending her to accusing her.
“What? I have never stolen anything in my life.” This was a lie and she knew it. But she also didn’t figure that swiping Mary Johnson’s pink-haired Bratz doll when she was seven really counted in this situation.
“We are not accusing you of stealing. After all, the lantern was loaned to the ISG by your grandfather as a gesture of goodwill, so technically it still belongs to your family,” Agent Rosenberg said.
“But it is an immensely powerful magical object,” Agent Sampson added. “It is important that it be turned over to the BEA for protection.”
“I don’t have it,” Sam said in her fiercest tone. “But if I did, what could it do?”
The agents shared a look.
“If you don’t have it, then you don’t need to worry about that,” Agent Rosenberg said.
“Uh huh.” Sam was starting to get the picture. They were friendly with her as long as they thought she had something they wanted, but they weren’t willing to explain what that something really was. She was going to have to try a different strategy. “So if I had stolen this lantern what would have happened to me?”
“You’d be on your way to an ISG maximum security prison right now. And you would remain there until you turned over the lantern,” Agent Sampson said bluntly.
“But I don’t have it.”
“Then you’d be there for a long time,” Agent Sampson said darkly.
“Why is everyone so sure I stole this thing anyway?” It didn’t make any sense to her. Clearly these people knew nothing about her. If they did they would know that she was way too uncoordinated to be a baker, let alone a safecracker.
“The hairs they found inside the vault,” Agent Rosenberg explained. Sam noticed that Agent Rosenberg was studying her closely, trying to gauge her reaction. “They scryed them, sort of a magical DNA test, and found out they were yours.”
“How is that possible?” Sam asked.
“That is something we are going to find out,” Agent Rosenberg said. “Our best guess is that someone is trying to frame you. After all, the Hathaway name is enough to get you convicted by half of the magical community. Your grandfather embarrassed them by finding the Lantern of the Blue Flame and your parents embarrassed them by saving them from Prince Cervantes. Honestly, this couldn’t have happened at a worse time.”
“Why is that?”
Agent Rosenberg looked to Agent Sampson for permission. He shrugged, which she took as approval. “Relations with the Sorcerer’s Guild have been strained more than usual lately.”
“How come?”
“Hard to say exactly. They’ve always been nervous about science. They don’t understand it, and people tend to fear what they don’t understand,” Agent Sampson said. “They have tried to slow us down before. I’m sure you’ve heard of the Dark Ages. This could lead to another war.”
“That isn’t going to happen,” Agent Rosenberg said, shaking her head. “Nobody wants that. Right now all we have to worry about is finding and returning the Lantern of the Blue Flame.”
Sam realized that despite how nice they were being to her she was still a suspect to them; in fact according to Agent Rosenberg she was the primary suspect. It was even possible that all of that war talk was just their way of trying to scare her into turning over the stolen lantern. She wondered how her life could have gotten so complicated in less than an hour. It wasn’t fair at all.
Sam was so deep in thought that she was startled when the car stopped outside her apartment building.
“We’re here.”
Sam followed Agent Sampson up the steps to her apartment on the third floor. Agent Rosenberg followed behind her, pinning her in just in case she decided to make a run for it. Agent Sampson only managed to knock on the door once before Sam’s godmother tore it open.
“Oh, Sammy,” Helen said, wrapping her arms around her. Helen Robinson was barely an inch taller than Sam. She was very skinny, always wore her hair up in a frazzled unkempt bun. Helen was an anthropologist like Sam’s mom, they had been college friends, but once she took guardianship of Sam she settled down to give Sam a normal life. There was very little for an anthropologist to do in Illinois, so she had become a secretary for a local temp agency.
“Are you alright, princess?” Harold asked when Sam finally untangled herself from Helen. Harold Robinson was a civil engineer specializing in bridge construction. Since Presley, Illinois already had all the bridges it needed, Harold took a job as a teacher at the local community college.
“I’m fine, I guess.” Sam said. She kept waiting for the day when Harold realized she was too old to be called ‘princess’.
Harold awk
wardly shook each of the agents’ hands in turn. “Thank you for bringing her home, uh, officers.”
“Yes,” Helen said squeezing Sam’s hand. “Thank heavens you got to her before the GSI.”
“ISG,” Agent Rosenberg corrected. “And we didn’t. But they’ve agreed to let her go for now.”
Helen instantly wrapped a protective arm around Sam’s shoulders. “For now? What can we do to keep her safe?”
“I believe I have a solution for that,” said a mysterious new voice from the kitchen. The voice belonged to a man in a drab brown suit.
The man handed Sam a brochure with the words MILLER’S GROVE ACADEMY emblazoned above a picturesque private school.
Harold spoke up. “Sam, this is Vice Principal Luis Hernandez. He’s been waiting for you.”
“It is a great pleasure to meet you Miss Hathaway,” he said, shaking her free hand. “I understand you’ve had quite a day. I come bearing good news. You have been accepted into Miller’s Grove Academy for the Exceptionally Gifted and Talented.”
Sam and the Robinsons sat on one side of the kitchen table and Vice Principal Luis Hernandez sat on the other.
“Miller’s Grove Academy rests on the eastern shore of Lake Laverne across from Futuro University, in beautiful Miller’s Grove, California. The university, founded forty-three years ago by Dean Alistair Futuro, has produced many of the world’s foremost scientists, scholars, and business leaders. The university will share many of its facilities and faculty with Miller’s Grove Academy. And Miller’s Grove students will be given priority consideration for university enrollment.” Vice Principal Hernandez handed Harold another brochure.
“It is the goal of Miller’s Grove Academy to provide a learning environment that fosters the development of a wide range of uniquely gifted and talented students.”
“Gifted and talented how?” Sam asked. She knew for certain that she didn’t fit into either of those groups.
“All of our students are the best of the best in their particular fields. In some cases that includes special skills that might otherwise be ignored or overlooked by other schools,” the Vice Principal answered vaguely.
“Special skills like what? Reciting all the state capitols in fifty seconds? Tap dancing? Magic?” Sam asked. She had no intention of going anywhere near any magical people.
Agent Rosenberg burst into laughter in the living room.
“Uh, no. Dean Futuro takes a very dim view of the magical community. Besides, they have their own schools,” Vice Principal Hernandez said, sweeping the idea away with his right hand. “No, we have recruited students with particularly high aptitudes in all subjects from math and science, art and dance, to ancient Mayan rituals and what I believe are referred to as ‘extreme’ level sports. I even recently interviewed an interesting young man who won the Gameco National Video Game Championship.”
“So how did I get put on this list?” Sam asked.
“Sam,” Helen cut in. “You are one of the most talented young women I have ever met. And you deserve the best education available.”
Sam squirmed the way she did anytime someone complimented her.
“Actually you’ve been on the list since before you were even born,” Vice Principal Hernandez said with a gleam of fanlike devotion in his eyes. “Your grandfather was one of the school’s founders. All of your expenses will be covered. The main stipulation in his will was that the school be completed in time for his first grandchild to attend.”
He kept talking, but Sam tuned him out. She couldn’t help it. This school was starting to sound like the one the X-Men went to. She had no doubt Miller’s Grove would be full of mutants, just not the cool Hugh Jackman kind.
Vice Principal Hernandez was excitedly pointing at something on the map of the school. Sam figured she had better start paying attention again.
“As you can see, one of the residence halls was named in his honor.”
Sam found the building on the map. Hathaway Hall was one of four identical dorms. All four were linked together by a dining hall in the middle.
“So, this is where I would be living?” Sam asked. She brushed the letters of her name with her index finger.
“No, I’m afraid not. Hathaway Hall and McQueen Hall are both boys’ dorms. The girls’ buildings are Cooper Hall and Rosalyn Hall,” Vice Principal Hernandez said pointing them out.
It was kind of nice to think that her grandfather had been looking out for her even though he died before she was even born. It did seem like an odd request though. Something else bothered her too.
“It took you fourteen years to build a school?” she asked.
“Sixteen, actually. Our Board of Regents has very exacting standards.”
“By all expenses, does that include books, food, and what about uniforms?” Harold asked.
“I’m not wearing a uniform,” Sam said as adamantly as possible. She crossed her arms and her legs to show just how adamant she was.
“We do not have uniforms. It is the belief of our founders that uniforms would stifle our student’s creativity and individuality.” Vice Principal Hernandez cleared his throat. “Miller’s Grove Academy also proudly offers the highest security of any school in the nation. I don’t believe it was a coincidence that this incident happened today. It seems likely that someone is trying to prevent Samantha from getting to school.”
Harold and Helen shared a look. Sam knew exactly what they were thinking. Mr. Hernandez certainly knew how to push their buttons. If they thought this school was the only place she was going to be safe there was no way Sam was getting out of it. She was going to have to do something drastic.
She stuck out her bottom lip slightly and turned her big pleading eyes on Helen. It wasn’t hard to do. The tears that welled up on her lower eyelids were very real. Judging by the tears in her own eyes, Helen got the signal.
“Mr. Hernandez,” Helen began politely as she shuffled all the brochures and papers into a neat pile. “We would like to thank you for coming today, and for presenting Sam with this amazing opportunity. I’m sure you understand that a decision like this takes a little time. We have your number here somewhere, and we will give you a call soon with Sam’s decision.”
Harold took the cue from his wife and stood up to shake Mr. Hernandez’s hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hernandez.”
But Vice Principal Hernandez didn’t stand up to shake Harold’s hand.
“I understand that today has been particularly stressful and I wish we could have met under better circumstances, but there is one more matter we need to discuss,” he said sternly.
Harold pulled his hand back. His smile quickly faded from his face. “And what is that, Mr. Hernandez?”
Agents Sampson and Rosenberg walked in from the living room and stood next to the table.
“Miller’s Grove University also has one of the highest security vaults in the country. It would be the perfect place to keep the Lantern of the Blue Flame,” Vice Principal Hernandez said with a toothy smile.
Sam leapt out of her chair so fast it startled everyone at the table. Even Agent Sampson made a reflexive reach for his vest pocket before realizing that she wasn’t a threat. He earned himself some very nasty looks from Helen and Harold for that mistake.
“I don’t have your stupid lantern. I don’t even know what it is. If it means so much to you, you should go look for it. Leave me alone.”
“I think you should go now,” Harold said firmly.
“Sam has already assured us that she doesn’t know anything about the lantern,” Agent Rosenberg said, clearly trying to smooth over the situation.
“Miss Hathaway, I apologize. Clearly I was given bad information,” Vice Principal Hernandez rose to his feet.
Sam turned away from the three strangers in her dining room. Who were they to come out of nowhere and accuse her of stealing things she had never even heard of? She was so angry her legs were shaking. Helen hugged her even tighter.
“Mr. Hernand
ez, we have your information. If Sam chooses to attend your school we will contact you.” His voice left no doubt that the conversation was over.
“Very well,” Vice Principal Hernandez said lifting his briefcase. “I hope you won’t hold my little mistake against the academy.”
“Good day,” Agent Sampson said as he followed Vice Principal Hernandez to the door.
“I hope to see you there, Sam,” Agent Rosenberg said sweetly. She gave Sam a cheerful little wave as she headed for the door. “Nice place you have here Mr. and Mrs. Robinson. Sorry for the hassle.”
“Thank you,” Helen said, more by reflex than anything else.
Harold closed the door behind them.
“Sam, I…” Helen began, but Sam was halfway to her room before she could finish.
Sam shut the door and locked it before throwing herself on the bed. She doubted quite highly if anyone she knew had ever had such a strange day. No one that was still alive anyway.
Without even knowing why, she burst into tears. She pulled in Mr. Hopscotch, her teddy bear that her father had made on the day she was born so that they would always be the same age, and she hugged him like she hadn’t hugged him in years.
Poor Mr. Hopscotch. He only got this kind of attention when things went bad. She hugged him even tighter.
For some bizarre reason, it is difficult to tell time while crying. Sam felt like she cried for over an hour, but it was likely far less than that, because she doubted Helen would wait that long before coming to check on her. When Sam finally ran out of tears she rolled out of bed and grabbed her Kleenex box while purposely avoiding looking up at her vanity mirror. It was weird how her body only let her cry for so long before her nose completely filled with snot. It was either a design flaw, or a safety feature to keep her from crying forever. Either way, it was unbelievably gross.
“They want me to go to some freaky school, Mr. Hopscotch,” Sam told the bear. He took the news with a smile. He always did.
If Vice Principal Hernandez was any indication of the type of people there, this was definitely not a school she wanted to go to. But her grandfather apparently thought she would. She wondered how her parents would feel about it. They had to have known about it, and she understood why they never told her; they were probably waiting until she was older. Still, someone should have maybe waited to ask her what she wanted.
