by H. K. Varian
Fiona and Darren exchanged a glance. On the one hand, they’d probably be safer with Ray to escort them around campus . . . but then again, what could Ray do to protect them against three warlocks?
“Actually, can we hang out here for a while?” Darren asked.
“You don’t even have to ask,” Ray said, flashing a smile. “Text me if you need anything. I’ll be down at the library.”
Darren forced himself to return Ray’s smile as he remembered the terror he’d felt, being chased by the warlocks among the stacks of books. “Thanks, bro. I’ll see you soon.”
“Family dinner next weekend,” Ray reminded him. “You make sure Dad’s there; I’ll make Mom drive me home. Nice to meet you, Fiona. You two stay out of trouble now.”
Then Ray grabbed his backpack and left. Neither Darren nor Fiona spoke until the door had closed behind him.
“Easier said than done,” Fiona blurted out.
Darren looked at her, confused. “What?” he asked.
“Staying out of trouble,” she explained. “It’s easier said than done. Those guys . . . They were—”
“Magic,” Darren finished for her.
Fiona reached into her backpack for the book, which was nestled in the soft folds of her selkie cloak. Then she paused. “Does Ray have a roommate?” she asked.
Darren shook his head. “This is a single room,” he said. “It’s safe.”
With extreme caution, Fiona brought the ancient book out of her backpack. Then she laughed suddenly, making Darren jump.
“What is it?” he asked.
Fiona held up her gloved hands. “I just realized I’m still wearing these!”
Darren watched over Fiona’s shoulder as she placed the book on Ray’s desk. When she opened it, her hand hovered over the words—and once again, they rearranged themselves, moving around the page like fallen leaves scattered by a gust of wind. When they settled again, the text was clear:
Circe’s Compasse
Useful in the Search for Changers, Circe’s Compasse was closely held by the Bonekamp Family until the Time of the Dark, when it was Lost amid the carnage. Some 400 years later, it Resurfaced during the reign of Ilyana the Conqueror. In Recognition of the extreme Power and Usefulness of Circe’s Compasse, it was secreted away in the Year 1792, secured in a Magic Chest on the Seafarer, a ship bound for the Americas. Alas, a storm claimed the ship, its crew, and cargo near the coast of the settlement at Middletown.
Fiona’s white-gloved finger trembled as she pointed to the word “Middletown.” “Darren!” she breathed. “Middletown is right next to Willow Cove!”
“I don’t know,” he replied, still staring at the text. “There are lots of Middletowns. There’s a chance it might not be the one near us.”
As if on cue the book produced a map of the coast. There was Middletown, and not far from it, Willow Cove.
“See? It is the same one. Circe’s Compass is close!” Fiona cried in excitement. “And if the ship wasn’t salvaged—if no Changer ever found it—then Circe’s Compass may be at the bottom of the ocean!”
Darren was still staring at the book. “ ‘The Time of the Dark,’ ” he said suddenly. “What—what do you think that means?”
Fiona shivered. “I have no idea,” she admitted. “We could ask Ms. Therian, I guess.”
“Or we could ask the book,” Darren pointed out.
Fiona hesitated, but only for a moment. Then she purposefully turned the page and waited for the letters to shift.
But they didn’t move.
As fast as she dared, Fiona flipped through the pages, scanning each one for “Time of the Dark.” But the phrase never appeared again.
“This book,” she marveled. “I’ve never seen anything like it. It shows you what you need to know. I feel like—like it’s writing itself.”
Darren rubbed his neck, trying to get rid of the creepy, prickly feeling that was spreading across his skin. “I don’t like it,” he said. “It’s weird.”
“It’s wonderful,” Fiona corrected him, wrapping the book in her selkie cloak and safely stashing it into her backpack. “Come on. Let’s go find my dad. We’ve got to go home—there isn’t any time to waste!”
Home, to Willow Cove; home, near Middletown; home, to the coast where that sunken ship and all its mysteries rested at the bottom of the sea. Darren knew it was the right thing to do—the smart thing, even. It certainly wasn’t safe for them to stick around here much longer, not when those guys were probably still searching for them.
Chapter 5
The Big Game
Back in Willow Cove, Gabriella stood by the side of the soccer field and chugged a bottle of water. It was hard to believe the game was already half over; for Gabriella, it had passed by in a blur as she raced up and down the field. Her muscles were twitching with eagerness to get back out there and win this game. The Willow Cove Clippers had never played better, but for Gabriella, that wasn’t good enough. She wanted them to be the best in state. The best ever.
“Mija!” Tía Rosa said, beaming as she approached. “You run like the wind out there!”
“Tía Rosa!” Gabriella exclaimed. “Thanks—but you shouldn’t be down here. Fans have to stay in the bleachers. If Coach saw you . . .”
Tía Rosa waved her hand in the air. “Pssh, what do I care?” she said. “If anybody has a problem with me telling my niece what an amazing athlete she is, they can say it to my face.”
“You’ve gotta get out of here.” Gabriella laughed as she gave Tía Rosa a kiss on the cheek and then nudged her back to the stands. “I’ll find you after the game.”
“Find me? You won’t be able to miss me,” Tía Rosa teased. “I’ll be the one down front, screaming your name!”
Thweeeet!
When the ref blew his whistle, Tía Rosa scurried back to the bleachers, and Gabriella prepared to take the field again. The unexpected halftime visit from her aunt had supercharged Gabriella. Now she felt like anything was possible out on the field—but most of all, she wanted to make her aunt proud.
This half is for Tía Rosa, Gabriella thought suddenly. To show her what I can really do.
That thought, more than any other, pushed Gabriella to do her best. She scored goal after goal, dodging every opposing player who tried to block her. There were no other thoughts on Gabriella’s mind but how free she felt, how powerful. She no longer felt like she was running on the field, but dancing, flying. For Gabriella, it wasn’t a game anymore.
It was everything.
And then it all went wrong.
A sudden pop, like a balloon bursting at a little kid’s birthday party; a swift hiss of air. There was no smooth, seamless arc for the ball; no sail across the clear blue sky. Instead, the ball fell to the ground with a dull thud.
No one moved.
It took a few seconds for Gabriella to realize exactly what had happened: Somehow, the ball had burst. But how? she wondered numbly.
The referee jogged across the field, blowing his whistle. The rest of the players crowded around him as he knelt down to inspect the ball. Even from a distance, Gabriella could see the problem clearly: a gaping, four-inch gash across the soccer ball’s scuffed surface.
How did that happen? Gabriella mused. As she stepped forward to take a better look, her foot caught in the grass and she nearly tripped. Steadying herself just in time, Gabriella glanced down—and saw a row of sharp claws sticking out of her shoe.
No, Gabriella thought, her heart pounding with panic. No!
She’d felt so confident on the field, so in control. But now here she was, her own nahual claws jutting out of her cleats for everyone to see. Thankfully, the rest of the players were focused on the ball.
But what would happen when they looked up?
“Defective ball,” the referee announced. “Back-up ball in play.”
I have to get out of this game. One thing was clear to her: that feeling of being in control was nothing but an illusion. A joke.
After a quick glance at her hands—her fingernails were fine, thankfully—Gabriella jogged toward her coach.
“Rivera. What’s up?” he asked.
“I’m sick,” she said breathlessly, staring at the ground, just in case she had nahual eyes. “I’ve gotta sit the rest of this one out.”
“But—” he began.
“Sorry!” Gabriella said in a strangled voice. Then she took off running for the locker room. Gabriella crashed through the doors and locked herself in a bathroom stall, where she closed her eyes and counted backward. When she reached one, she opened her eyes and looked down. The nahual claws were gone. The only traces of them were ten small holes in her cleats.
Gabriella laughed with relief, the sound echoing strangely off the metal lockers and tile walls. It’s okay, she told herself. You are in control. There’s nothing to worry about. Splash some water on your face, and get back out there.
Gabriella opened the door, headed for the sinks, and turned on the faucet. She glanced at herself in the mirror.
Two blazing cat’s eyes stared back.
No. Gabriella’s heart started pounding. But I counted—and my claws changed—
So why hadn’t her eyes?
You’ve got to get control of yourself, Gabriella thought as she gripped the sides of the sink for support. Focus. Focus. Breathe. Ten . . . nine . . .
But she couldn’t wait. She didn’t have the patience. She opened her eyes.
Her nahual eyes.
What if I can’t change them back? Gabriella thought in a panic. What if they stay like this—forever?
Her thoughts spiraled out of control.
The rest of her teammates would think—no, they would know—that she was a freak. But that wasn’t all.
Everyone would know that she was a cheater.
Because that was the truth, wasn’t it? Somewhere, deep inside, Gabriella had to admit that she’d known all along she was using her nahual powers on the field. Even if she didn’t mean to; even if it had all been subconscious—or even an accident—that didn’t really matter, did it?
Cheating was cheating, after all.
And maybe this was the price she would have to pay—halfway transformed, half human, half . . . not. Her shame shining from her eyes, for the whole world to see.
Her eyes smarting with tears, Gabriella blinked rapidly, stared down, and wondered, Can jaguars cry?
She’d never heard of such a thing. No. Crying—with real tears and everything—was decidedly human.
When Gabriella looked up again, there they were: her old, familiar brown eyes. Just like Maritza. Just like Ma. Just like Tía Rosa.
I’m back, Gabriella thought with joy as she grinned at her reflection. I’m back!
And just in time, too—for at that moment, the locker room door banged open.
“Mija?” her mother’s voice echoed off the tiles. “You in here?”
“Yeah,” Gabriella called and then cleared her throat.
Tía Rosa, Maritza, and Ma hurried up to her. Ma placed her hands on Gabriella’s flushed cheeks. “Sweetheart, what happened?” she asked urgently. “Are you sick?”
“I’m okay,” Gabriella replied—and she meant it. “I got a little lightheaded on the field. You know. Woozy.”
Ma shook her head. “All that adrenaline,” she said, wrapping her arm across Gabriella’s shoulders. “You girls were running so hard in the sun. It’s a wonder you didn’t pass out!”
Tía Rosa, though, was watching Gabriella carefully. “Adrenaline, huh?” she asked, as if she didn’t quite believe her. “You feeling better now, mija?”
“Way better,” Gabriella assured her, though she couldn’t quite meet Tía Rosa’s eyes.
“I don’t want you playing anymore today,” Ma said firmly. “Enough is enough. You need some rest, some time out of the sun—”
“Yeah, of course,” Gabriella said. “The game’s probably about over by now, anyway.”
“Let’s get you home,” Tía Rosa said, patting Gabriella’s back. “Go ahead and change. We’ll run home and get the car.”
“It’s only a couple blocks,” Gabriella protested. “I can walk. I’m fine.”
But one look from Ma silenced her protests.
Once her family had left, Gabriella opened her locker and pulled out her street clothes. Suddenly, her phone buzzed, clattering across the locker’s metal shelf.
Six missed texts! Gabriella thought as she glanced at the screen. And all of them from Fiona.
EMERGENCY! MEET AT THE GYM NOW!
Chapter 6
The Compendium
Fiona hurried into the Ancillary Gym, cradling her backpack as Darren closed the door behind her. They were immediately swarmed by the First Four: Ms. Therian; Mack’s grandfather, Akira Kimura; Yara Moreno; and Sefu Badawi.
“Are you all right?” Ms. Therian demanded urgently. “What happened?”
Yara held up a wrinkled hand. “Dorina, let the children catch their breath,” she said. “It’s obvious they’ve been through something traumatic.”
It is? Fiona wondered. She noticed Mack hovering at the edge of the group, his eyes dark with worry. She tried to smile reassuringly, but just then—
Bang!
The door flew open again, making everyone jump. But it was only Gabriella, out of breath from her dash across the school. She was still wearing her soccer uniform. The big game, Fiona remembered suddenly. It looked like Gabriella had left right in the middle of it.
“Sorry I’m late,” Gabriella said. “I came as soon as I got your text. What’s going on?”
“Come,” Mr. Kimura said to Fiona and Darren. “Sit. Tell us what happened.”
“We went to the library at New Brighton University,” Fiona began. “Darren and I wanted to research Circe’s Compass. We thought there might be information in the rare books collection, where we found the book that told us about the Horn of Power.”
“But there were these guys,” Darren spoke for the first time since they’d arrived. “I thought they were students at first. They were searching for something—and they were getting frustrated. . . .”
“I was getting frustrated too,” Fiona chimed in. “The digital record seemed incomplete. I couldn’t find a single entry about Circe’s Compass or the Horn of Power—no matter how I searched. So I decided to take a look at the actual book we’d seen before.”
Fiona paused, her hands hovering over her backpack. But she didn’t open it. Not yet.
“I was right about the digital record,” she said. “Because in the book—the real, physical book—there was so much more.”
“The letters,” Darren said, shaking his head as if he still couldn’t believe it. “They swirled around, switched places, formed entirely new words.”
“Whoa,” Mack breathed.
“That sounds like something from a movie,” Gabriella said, an edge of disbelief in her voice.
But Fiona was noticing something else—a glance, just a half second, that passed between Mr. Kimura and Ms. Therian.
“You can see for yourself,” Fiona said suddenly, reaching into her backpack. Everyone watched in total silence as she unwrapped her selkie cloak to reveal, at last, the massive tome. Fiona placed it in Ms. Therian’s hands, but Yara recognized it first.
“The Compendium!” she gasped.
“I never thought I’d lay eyes on it again,” Sefu marveled, shaking his head.
But Mr. Kimura began to laugh. “I knew it was out there somewhere,” he said. “And to think, this whole time, it was so close, hidden away in a college library.”
“Jiichan, what are you talking about?” Mack finally spoke up, asking the question on all the kids’ minds.
“It’s not The Compendium,” Fiona added. “This book is called Traditions of Otherworldly Beings.”
“A clever title, but a fake one,” Mr. Kimura told her. He held out his hands, palms up, and turned to Ms. Therian. “May I, Dorina?”
“Of course,” sh
e replied, passing the book to him.
“The Compendium,” he began. “A precious resource for Changers. A living book. It contains our history—all our history, all these many thousands of years. Maps. Relics. Family trees. Lost lore. Hideaways. Secrets. They are all in here, carefully guarded. As you have already discovered, Fiona and Darren, The Compendium decides who can read it. Not the other way around.”
“Well, it let me read it,” Fiona said, her voice filled with wonder. “It showed us where Circe’s Compass is—on a ship that sank in 1792, right off the coast of Middletown. We could go and get it tomorrow!”
Gabriella, Mack, and the First Four started talking at once, but Darren’s voice carried above the rest.
“Those guys at the computer,” Darren said. “Jack, Bram, and . . . Evan.”
Everyone turned to look at him.
“They knew about this book,” he continued. “I’m sure of it. They were desperate to get their hands on it.”
“Did they threaten you?” asked Sefu.
“Well . . . ,” Fiona began.
“Not exactly,” Darren admitted. “They were kind of, well, menacing, I guess. It was like we could feel their—their intentions.”
“They tried to look friendly, but their eyes were wrong,” Fiona explained.
“What did they do to you?” Ms. Therian asked; her voice had a hard edge.
Darren stared at the floor. “One of them—it looked like he was getting ready to attack us and steal the book . . . there was a glow to his hands . . . so I shot a lightning bolt,” he said. “I didn’t mean to—well, I did—but it all happened so fast, and all I knew was that we had to escape.”
There was a long silence.
“You did the right thing,” Ms. Therian finally said. “Your safety is always of the utmost importance, but you must be careful in the future. Your training has barely begun, and your magic should only be used in emergencies.”
“The lightning didn’t hurt them. They chased us through campus.”
“They were working for Auden Ironbound, weren’t they?” Fiona asked. “Trying to find Circe’s Compass, and us, too.”
