Spell Robbers

by Matthew J. Kirby

  Peter had a harder time of it. He continued to refuse a Locus, but was eventually able to actuate some Class Twos without one. Nothing nearly as big and powerful as Ben’s, and he was really slow at it, but it was something.

  “You’re getting it,” Ben said at the end of a grueling day. They were on the stairs heading down to the barracks, and all he could think about was his bed.

  “Thanks,” Peter said. But his voice was edged with something. Anger? Sarcasm?

  Ben stopped on the stairwell. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Tell me.”

  Peter didn’t look at him. “I’ve just never been the slow one, all right?”

  “I knew it was bothering you.”

  “Of course it’s bothering me.”

  “Well, don’t let it. It doesn’t matter how fast or how slow you are. All that matters is —”

  Peter held up a hand like a crossing guard. “Deep down, everybody wants to be the hare. Who wants to be the tortoise? I don’t care what the fable says.” He moved on down the stairs.

  Ben sighed and followed after him. They didn’t talk for the rest of the night, but Ben was kept awake, trying to figure out how he could help Peter feel better. His dad had really messed with his head. He believed he wasn’t worth anything if he wasn’t the smartest, the fastest, the best.

  Thinking about it made Ben sad, and he fell asleep worrying about his friend.

  It seemed Ben had barely closed his eyes when someone was shaking him awake, shining a flashlight in his face. He blinked and shielded his eyes with his hands. What were the other guys doing?

  “Get that out of my face,” he said.

  “Up and at ’em, son.” Agent Spear’s voice.

  Ben sat up. The man stood over him dressed in the same military gear Ben had seen the League wearing in Dr. Hughes’s lab.

  “That’s right,” Agent Spear said. “Tonight’s the night.”

  Ben threw off his covers and jumped out of bed. In the slanted light from the flashlight, shadows deepened Peter’s grin into something a little wild. They both hustled into their clothes; Ben made sure he had his Locus, and they followed Agent Spear upstairs. He took them to a part of the building they’d never been to before.

  “Time to get you boys suited up.”

  He unlocked a door and let them into a room filled with the kind of gear the agent was wearing. There was a long bench in the middle of the room, with two suits laid out.

  “These are the smallest size we have,” he said. “Hopefully, they won’t be too big on you.”

  Ben and Peter examined the uniforms. They were made of a thick black canvas, with plates and pads of armor sewn in. They were heavy, and took some getting used to once Agent Spear had helped Ben and Peter get dressed. Ben looked down at himself, and bent his arms and his legs to test his range of motion. The suit actually fit him pretty well.

  “They’re insulated against electricity and cold,” the agent said. “And they’re fire resistant. The armor will stop most projectiles.”

  Projectiles?

  Ben tried not to show the fear that began seeping in through the pads and protection of the suit.

  “Uh-oh,” Peter said. “I should have peed before I put this on, shouldn’t I?”

  “That’s a good habit to get into.” Agent Spear grinned. “Now, take these.”

  He handed them each a helmet like the ones policemen used during riots, the kind with a clear plastic shield in front. They tried them on. Ben’s was a bit big, but if he cinched up the strap it stayed in place.

  “Ready?” Agent Spear asked.

  “I was serious.” Peter took off his helmet. “I have to go.”

  “Do you need help with the suit?” Ben could hear the smirk in the agent’s voice.

  “I think I can manage,” Peter said.

  “Go. Meet us in the main training room.”

  Peter left, and Ben went with Agent Spear. When they entered the Big Top, they found several others already there, all dressed for combat. Ben saw Agent Taggart, and half a dozen other agents, most of whom he didn’t recognize.

  Sasha came up beside him. “Where’s Class One?”

  “Don’t call him that,” Ben said. It came out sharper than he meant it to.

  “Sorry. I didn’t think he’d mind, now that he’s moved on to Class Two. Sometimes a little teasing gets you fired up. Works for me.”

  “Yeah, well. Not for him. Just leave it alone, okay?”

  “Fine. Okay.”

  A charged silence followed.

  “You ready for this?” Sasha asked.

  “You’re my trainer. You tell me.”

  “Hmm. I don’t know.” She stood back and looked at him with her head cocked at an exaggerated angle, her hand on her chin. “Is that a woman’s uniform?”

  “WHAT?”

  “Kidding. Relax, Locus Boy. You’re more than ready for what we’re going to be doing.”

  Ben took a deep breath. “How many of these have you been on?”

  “Me? This is my first.”

  “Really?”

  Sasha’s nod was a bit more tense than usual. “I’ve gone on lots of patrols. But this is my first full operation.”

  Ben realized that maybe Sasha’s teasing was actually to relieve her own stress. He could tell she was trying to look confident, but maybe she didn’t feel that way on the inside.

  She shifted on her feet. “But I was up for my Trials in a couple of months, anyway.”

  “Trials?”

  “Before they promote you from junior agent to full agent, you have to go on three operations. They have to see how you perform in the field. Agent Taggart said this will count as my first.”

  “I’m sure you’ll do fine,” Ben said.

  “You better hope so.” She winked at him. “My job is to protect you two.”

  Ben saw Peter come into the room and waved him over.

  “Don’t tell Agent Spear,” he said as he approached them, “but I did need help with the suit.”

  Sasha made a show of looking him over. “Aside from having it on backward, you look great.”

  Peter looked at her, and then at Ben. “She’s kidding, right?”

  “Get used to it,” Ben said.

  “Listen up, people!” Agent Spear stood with his arms folded across his chest. Everyone in the room turned to face him. “You’ve all been briefed, but remember: Ronin is the target, and the mission is acquisition. The other members of the crew are secondary. The jewels are secondary. If it means catching Ronin, you let the jewels and the other members of his crew go free.”

  Agent Taggart stepped up beside him. “Ronin is a former agent. Consider him extremely dangerous. He knows our tactics, and he’ll use that against you. Use extreme caution, keep radio contact, and don’t try to take him on your own. Understood?”

  The agents nodded around the room.

  Ben felt a quivering in his chest. He reached into his pocket and rolled the Locus stone into his fist.

  “The vans are waiting,” Agent Spear said. “Let’s move out.”

  The agents formed into a loose column and headed out the door. Sasha turned to Ben and Peter. “Ready, boys?”

  “Ready,” Peter said.

  “Ready,” Ben said.

  She led them after the agents to the rear of the building, where three black vans idled in the night. Agents piled into them.

  “Agent Lambert.” Agent Spear waved them over to his vehicle. “You guys are with me.”

  They climbed into the van, and Sasha, Ben, and Peter took up one of the benches. It was tight. Sasha sat between them, staring straight ahead, and Ben could feel her knee bouncing against his. From the first time he’d seen her practicing in the Big Top, she’d seemed much older than him. As their trainer, she seemed so much more experienced. But right now, she didn’t seem very different.

  “How old are you?” Ben asked her.

  “What?”

  “How old are
you?”

  “Sixteen.” She frowned. “Why?”

  “Just curious.”

  “Look, I’ve been in the League since I was your age. I can handle this.”

  Ben shook his head. “That’s not what I meant. I —”

  “That’s everyone.” Agent Spear climbed into the front passenger seat. He turned to the driver. “Let’s go.”

  It was late enough, or early enough, depending on how you counted it, that the city streets were pretty deserted. The few buses they passed still running at that hour were almost empty. The vans glided by darkened storefronts, apartments, and other buildings. At another time, Ben might have liked the feeling of being out while the world around him slept. But tonight, every shadow and every black window held something sinister within.

  No one spoke. With each mile, the tension inside the van mounted. Like when his mom used that cooker to can blueberries from the farm. Ben felt the silence like a pressure on his ears.

  A short while later, Agent Spear leaned forward. “We’re here. Slow down, and pull into that alley.” He pointed the way.

  The driver killed the headlights and eased the van into a black rift. The other vans followed in a column behind them.

  After they’d come to a stop, Spear looked back at Sasha, Ben, and Peter. “You remember your orders, Agent Lambert?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Agent Spear nodded, opened his door, and slipped out of the vehicle. The agents sitting behind them opened the van’s sliding door and climbed out after him. Ben turned around and watched them form up and stalk from the alley.

  A handheld radio hissed to life in Sasha’s hand. She adjusted the volume, and the sounds of footsteps, movement, and hushed voices came through.

  “What are your orders?” Ben whispered.

  “Sit tight,” Sasha said. “Keep you safe. Only intervene if given no other options.”

  “Then why are we here, again?” Peter asked.

  “Pieces in a game,” Ben said.

  They sat listening to the radio for a while. Not much seemed to be happening out there.

  And then they heard Agent Taggart’s voice come through. “Approaching the building now.”

  “The jewels are in a bank around the corner,” Sasha whispered. “Scheduled for transfer tomorrow. Right now, the agents will be trying to gain access without being spotted by Ronin’s lookout.”

  The radio squealed and clanged with the sound of metal. Then silence.

  “We’re in.” That was Agent Spear’s voice. “All agents with me.”

  Ben’s heartbeat quickened. He leaned closer to the radio. So did Peter.

  Silence followed. The agents were inside the bank now, closing in on the Paracelsus crew. Ben imagined them advancing forward with hand signals.

  Peter took a breath. “What —?”

  “Shh!” Sasha said.

  The radio went quiet, so quiet Ben thought it might have switched off. It stayed that way for a long time. But then an explosion of sound ripped through it, a roar of static and shouts.

  Ben jumped.

  “What’s going on?” Peter asked.

  Sasha gripped the radio. “They’ve engaged the crew in combat.”

  “Target on the move!” Agent Spear shouted. “All agents pursue!”

  Sasha looked over her shoulder down the alley. She bit her lip. “Put on your helmets.”

  Ben and Peter did as she ordered.

  They listened to more sounds of fighting. Actuations exploding through the radio speaker, one after the other, then simultaneously.

  “Agent down!” That was Agent Taggart. “McNeil is down!”

  Sasha covered her mouth.

  “Agent Lambert!” That was Agent Spear. “Sasha, listen to me! The target is coming your way.”

  SASHA tossed the radio aside and grabbed her helmet. “Stay in the van,” she said. “And keep hidden.” She climbed over Peter, pushed the door open, and slipped out into the alley. She looked terrified.

  Ben moved to follow her. “We’ll come with you.”

  “No!” she hissed. She peered toward the street. “Stay here.”

  “We should do what she says.” Peter looked even more scared than she did.

  Sasha took a deep breath and crept down the alley. Ben punched the seat. He felt helpless, like he had back in Dr. Hughes’s lab when the Dread Cloaks attacked. He wanted to do something.

  Sasha took up a defensive position against the grille of the van behind them. Ben guessed she was loading an actuation. Which was what he should be doing.

  Agent Taggart squawked through the radio. “Agent Lambert! We took out the crew’s getaway. The target is coming for a van. You need to get out of there, now!”

  Ben looked at Peter. Peter just shook his head.

  The silhouettes of two men appeared at the alley’s entrance. One of them had to be Ronin, but which one? Ben looked at Sasha. She was peering around the edge of the vehicle, her hands balled up into fists. She was getting ready to attack. Where were the other agents? Where were Taggart and Spear?

  “I told you,” one of the silhouettes said. “Still the same playbook. Not even guarded.”

  Sasha leaped out and fired off a lightning bolt. It arced down the alley, lighting it up in a flash. But it missed and struck the brick wall. The two silhouettes dove for cover between the other vans.

  Sasha pulled back to her position.

  “We’ve got to help her,” Ben said.

  Peter shook his head. “I’m not good enough.”

  A fireball blazed past the van’s door, striking a dumpster farther down the alley. They could escape that way. Ronin only wanted a vehicle.

  Sasha shot off another lightning bolt. The two men returned fire. It went on like that for a few rounds. And then the van Sasha hid behind lurched. It started rolling forward. One of the men had actuated it into gear. Sasha moved with it a few steps, but if she didn’t get out of the way, it was going to pin her against Ben and Peter’s van.

  She dove free just before the van hit, jolting Ben. Their attackers were waiting. A fireball struck Sasha in the chest and sent her flying backward.

  “NO!” Ben shouted. “We’ve got to help her.”

  “Look.” Peter pointed, and through the vans’ windows Ben saw the two silhouettes climb into the last van. “They’re leaving.”

  “They’re getting away!” Ben said.

  He jumped out into the alley, pulled out his Locus, and readied a lightning bolt of his own. He grabbed a swarm of electrons around him, balled them up, and slipped down toward the two men.

  Their van’s engine roared.

  Ben had to act now. He leaped into view and fired the lightning bolt straight at the van’s grille. It struck its target, and the engine choked and died smoking. He’d done it. He’d stopped them.

  But now what?

  The two men burst from the van. Ben could feel their actuations forming, that same change in the air he’d sensed from Poole. Ben was about to form another actuation of his own when a little fireball sputtered over his head toward the two men, where it smoked out harmlessly on the ground between them.

  “I told you I wasn’t good enough,” Peter said from behind him.

  “Fall back.” Ben actuated another lightning bolt, but it missed.

  One of the men shot a fireball of his own, but Ben was able to actuate a shield of water. It stopped the fireball in a flash of steam, but most of the water splashed to the ground in a puddle at his feet.

  Ben looked down and felt what was about to happen, but he couldn’t do anything to stop it. In that instant, one of the men shot a lightning bolt. The bolt arced and struck the puddle beneath him. Ben flinched.

  Nothing happened. The suit had protected him. But that maneuver — fire, countered with water, then electricity — had been planned. He and Peter were clearly outmatched.

  “Morrow!” Agent Spear’s voice echoed toward them.

  The two men looked behind them, then charged forward i
nto the alley. One of them flew by before Ben could react, but Ben jumped in front of the other one. They collided, and both went down hard. The impact had forced the air from Ben’s lungs. He gasped as the man got to his feet first. Ben felt him actuating as he came into view for the first time, but Ben was too dazed to do anything. He braced himself, hoping Peter had gotten clear.

  But there was no actuation.

  “You’re just a kid,” the man said.

  Ben looked up. The man had close-cropped hair and a face that looked like someone had left it outside for too long. Ben felt the actuation fading as the man shook his head.

  “So this is what they’ve come to,” he said.

  “Hold it right there, Morrow!” Agent Taggart shouted.

  She, Spear, and three other agents entered the alley.

  The man smiled at Ben. He put up his hands. “It’s Ronin, if you don’t mind. I haven’t been Morrow for a long, long time.”

  “Call it in.” Agent Spear was panting. “Tell Mr. Weathersky the target is acquired. We got him.”

  “Sasha!” Ben took off deeper into the alley, but before he’d gone more than a few steps, he saw her walking toward him, one arm around Peter’s shoulders. “You’re okay?” he asked her.

  She nodded. “I might not have any eyebrows, but the suit did its job.”

  Police sirens howled in the distance.

  “Ennays,” Agent Spear said. “Let’s clear out.”

  They all loaded into the two working vans. Five agents rode with Ronin in one of them, while Ben, Peter, and Sasha rode with Agents Spear, Taggart, and McNeil. McNeil had taken a lightning bolt that had fried his suit and knocked him out for a bit, but he was alive and relatively unharmed.

  “Well done, all of you,” Agent Spear said after they’d gotten on the road. “Agent Lambert, consider your first Trial passed. With a commendation.”

  Sasha sighed. “Thank you, sir.”

  “I think what she did should count for two Trials,” Peter said. “At least.”

  Agent Taggart chuckled, and it was the first time Ben had heard the woman laugh. “Perhaps you’re right.”