Mystics #1: The Seventh Sense

by Kim Richardson

  “Like I said, I’ve never seen anyone use a boomerang like that. After this, I’m sure the agency’s going to start producing them again.”

  “I doubt it,” said Zoey, still breathing heavily. She inspected herself again. “I can’t remember the last time I smelled like manure—”

  A woman screamed suddenly.

  Zoey and Tristan looked at each other.

  “It came from the main hall,” said Tristan as he turned towards the door.

  Zoey leaped over to the dead Krakenite. She pulled with all her might and yanked her boomerang out of the Krakenite’s skull with a wet suction noise.

  When she turned around, Tristan was smiling.

  “What?” she said. “You said it yourself—this is probably the only one—I’m not leaving it to rot in this creature’s head.” She flashed him a smile.

  Without another word, Zoey followed Tristan out the door and into the hall.

  It was a chaotic scene. Bloodied bodies lay scattered everywhere. Another Krakenite’s severed head lay several feet away from its body in a large red puddle. The smell brought tears to Zoey’s eyes. The walls and floors were smeared in blood, as though someone had thrown buckets of red paint around. She could hear cries and moans. Those who were still alive were busy attending to the wounded or covering the dead with pieces of clothing. She didn’t recognize any of the dead.

  Agent Barnes and Agent Lee came running down the hall to Zoey and Tristan.

  “Simon said there was another Krakenite? Where is it now” said Agent Barnes urgently as he brandished a large double-barrel rifle,

  “Dead,” said Tristan. “Zoey whacked it good in the skull with her boomerang.”

  Both agents gave her a look of surprise, and Zoey gave them a little smile. “It wasn’t as cool as Tristan says, but it’s dead.”

  “You’re bleeding.” Agent Lee handed Zoey a handkerchief from inside his jacket.

  She took it and pressed it against her wound.

  “Thank you,” she said awkwardly, not used to Agent Lee being kind to her. Maybe he had forgiven her about the kick.

  “Guys!” Simon collapsed beside them. He was breathing heavily. “Oh, man, am I glad you’re okay. I thought the Kradelite had finished you both. That would have clearly sucked.”

  “Krakenite,” corrected Tristan.

  “That’s what I said,” said Simon.

  “But how did you do it? Did you get it on film? Please say that you got me some cool shots?”

  Agent Barnes heaved his rifled on his shoulder. “According to Tristan, Little Red here took care of it for us. Nailed it right in the brain—dead. I would have paid money to see that.”

  He winked at her, and Zoey felt the blood rush to her ears.

  Simon’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened. “You brainorized it? Coooool.”

  Then he lowered his voice. “You think I could take a picture of you and the Kranelite side by side?”

  “Maybe some other time, Simon,” said Zoey feeling a little self-conscious. She really didn’t want to go near another Krakenite for a while; its smell made her dizzy.

  Agent Barnes’ face was flushed and sweaty. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand. “I’m glad you guys are safe. Ew!—This is a real rotten mess. We need to dispose of these Krakenites’s bodies before they stink up the entire hive. How many casualties?”

  “Six dead and ten injured,” answered Agent Lee. He turned towards the dead Krakenite. “The way it was sniffing out a particular scent—my guess is they were looking for something or someone.”

  Tristan and Simon both looked at Zoey. The Krakenite was looking for her—but why? Why did it want to kill her? She had never even seen one before?

  “We all know how they got through the Nexus,” continued Agent Barnes. He hadn’t noticed the strange looks Simon and Tristan had given Zoey.

  “Who knows what else will be slipping through to our world? There are worst things than Krakenites in the Nexus—much, much worse.”

  Agent Vargas arrived with bloody towels in his hands.

  “You three,” he pointed at Zoey, Tristan, and Simon, “come with me. The injured need help. And I need all the help I can get.”

  The three of them followed Agent Vargas down the main hall to an area where the wounded had been placed in a row. All her classmates, even Billy, were attending to the wounded. Billy’s head was wrapped with a bandage, but he seemed okay otherwise. Women and men cried over the dead bodies, and Zoey felt a pain in her chest—they had died because of her.

  “Here,” Agent Vargas gave them towels and bandages. “Wrap them up as best you can—tightly, to stop the bleeding. Help is on the way.”

  Tristan and Simon went to help the wounded right away, but Zoey couldn’t move.

  Screeching resonated down the hall and she turned around. Two men in white uniforms rushed in pushing stretchers on screeching wheels. They stopped beside a woman whose abdomen was bleeding profusely. They lifted her up gently, placed her on one of the stretchers, and then wheeled her away down the hall and around the corner.

  “Where are they taking them?” asked Zoey, her mouth dry as she tried to swallow.

  “To the medical bay.” Agent Vargas rushed to help lift a young man covered in blood up onto the other stretcher.

  Zoey had no idea they had a medical bay. She had never seen it or heard anyone talk about it before now. She stared at the wounded and couldn’t shake off the feeling that she was responsible for the attacks. It felt like a bad dream. If it were true that the Krakenites had come to kill her—why were they trying to kill her? Who was she to them?

  And then, like a light switching on in her brain, she knew—the cat-faced woman was responsible.

  A chill washed over her. She had overheard them plotting. And although the agency didn’t believe her, apparently the cat-faced woman hadn’t taken any chances. She had found Zoey out and had released these mystics in the hopes of killing her.

  But her plan had failed.

  A cold sweat trickled down her back—sooner or later the cat-faced woman would try again. Who knew what sort of evil mystic she would unleash next—or when. One thing was for certain, they would be much worse than the Krakenites.

  Zoey went to work. She knelt down beside an elderly man with a nasty cut on his face. He was lying on his back, his eyes were closed, and she couldn’t tell if he was breathing. Gently, she dabbed a towel on his wounds. He had a great red stain on his shirt—he was bleeding out. She took another towel and pressed it against his stomach. Tears swelled in her eyes—this was all her fault.

  “You…you…” said the man. His voice was ragged. Blood seeped from the corners of his mouth.

  “Don’t talk,” said Zoey gently. “You need to save your energy. Help is coming.”

  She gave him a reassuring smile, feeling worse and worse by the minute. Her eyes burned, and she blinked until the wetness dried up. She didn’t want the man to see her cry.

  “Your hair,” said the man, his voice was almost a whisper. “I knew a woman once with hair just like yours.”

  The hairs on the back of Zoey’s neck stood up. “What? What did you say?”

  She leaned forward. Maybe she had misunderstood?

  The man smiled. “I had never seen the like—fire red—just like yours. And you have the same green eyes. How peculiar.”

  Zoey lost her voice. When she found it again, she asked. “Who—who was she?”

  The man coughed up some blood. His eyes opened wide for a moment, and then he lay still. For a horrible moment she thought he had died, but then his lips moved, and he spoke.

  “Her name was Elizabeth.”

  “Where is she?” Zoey couldn’t mask the desperation in her voice. She felt like she was about to jump out of her skin.

  “Where can I find her? Please! Please tell me where she is!” her voice rose, and she fought to control her nerves. She crumpled the bloody towel with trembling hands, her heart suddenly slamming against her chest.


  Between coughs, the man said, “Troll City, Louisiana.”

  And then his mouth fell open. A single, long breath escaped him. His eyes stared at the ceiling, glazed over, and he didn’t speak again.

  Chapter 12

  A Leap at Midnight

  Elizabeth…

  Zoey hadn’t slept a wink—the name haunted her. Was this mysterious woman her mother? She had waited all her life for a clue as to who she was. What the man had told her before he died had to be true—she had never seen anyone with the same hair color. Even dyed, it was never the same fire red—the man’s words exactly. You had to be born with it.

  After harassing the agents for five days, Zoey finally discovered the man’s name. He was Oliver Scott. He was a retired agent from New York who had been visiting an old friend at the hive in Toronto. The friend, a Mr. Dean Daigle, was still alive and worked in Inter-dimension trade, communications & transportation, room 2A.

  With Mr. Daigle’s help, Zoey had found out that Oliver Scott had been a widower, with no children or any living relatives, even Sevenths. He appeared to have had no living friends except for Mr. Daigle. She had no one else to ask about the mysterious Elizabeth. But her hopes were quickly deflated when she asked him about her.

  “I’m sorry, dear; I don’t know any woman by that name or with red hair. I never heard him say that name, ever. I’m terribly sorry,” he had told her.

  Zoey’s mood darkened. She had been so close to discovering something about her past, and now it was slipping away like an old memory. She meandered around the hive like the living dead—her body moved, but her spirit was elsewhere, dull and unresponsive. She couldn’t concentrate on her studies without imagining what her mother might have looked like. Was she pretty? Tall? Skinny and small like her?

  Tristan and Simon were worried that she was about to have a meltdown. They couldn’t understand how she felt—they had real families—she had never known hers. She pretended to have headaches so they wouldn’t feel sorry for her.

  The dying man’s face haunted her, too. No one had ever died in her arms before—it had been a surreal experience and had left her feeling cold and numb. She remembered that his body had stayed warm after he’d gone. He had looked peaceful, as though he was sleeping.

  Zoey had been restless for five straight days when she decided that there was only one thing left to do. She had to go to Troll City, Louisiana.

  Although Tristan and Simon had tried to grab her attention after class, she said nothing to them and approached Agent Vargas’s desk. She gave him her best smile.

  “Uh, Agent Vargas,” she said. “May I ask you something?”

  He was typing on his computer and didn’t look up. “Yes, Zoey, what is it?”

  “I’d like permission to go to Troll City, sir.”

  Agent Vargas’s fingers slipped on his keyboard. “What? Troll City? Where did you hear such a name?”

  “From Agent Oliver Scott,” said Zoey. “It won’t be for long, I only need a few hours. See, that’s where he said my mo—where he said the woman who looked like me is. I’d like to go look for her. I need to know where I come from—who I am.”

  Agent Vargas sighed heavily and gave Zoey a painful smile. “I understand your desire to look for this woman, truly I do, but you can’t go to Troll City. It’s impossible.”

  Zoey’s smile quickly vanished

  “What do you mean? Why not? Why can’t I go?” her voice rose, and she didn’t bother hiding her anger. She hadn’t expected him to say no.

  “Because it’s too dangerous,” answered Agent Vargas. “It’s a mystic town, and a very treacherous one at that. Humans are not welcome there. The mystics chose to settle in that area to be away from humans. We have to respect the rules of our treaty, and this is one of them. Troll City is off limits. That is all.”

  Zoey couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “But she’s there—I have to find out if she’s my real mother. You can’t keep that from me—”

  “It’s impossible. I’m sorry, Zoey, but you cannot go. No one can.”

  “What if I went with an agent? I’m sure Agent Barnes would come with me. He would want to help me find my mother—I know he would.”

  Agent Vargas shook his head solemnly. “You’re not listening to what I’m trying to tell you. No one, not even an agent, is allowed to set foot in Troll City. If fact, I believe that no agent or human has ever entered the city. Mr. Scott was dying—he was confused. He wasn’t conscious of what he was saying. I’m just sorry he made you believe some story about a woman—”

  “It wasn’t a story,” blurted Zoey. She frowned. “He was telling the truth.”

  “Well, I see that my reasoning with you is pointless,” said Agent Vargas.

  “Believe what you will, but forget about Troll City. Now, off you go and don’t mention it to me again.” He dismissed her.

  Tears brimmed around her eyes. She stood there for a moment before she stormed out of the room. She ran past Tristan and Simon without looking at them. She couldn’t let her only clue to her mother’s identity slip away. She would find a way.

  She gathered her wits and slowed down so that Tristan and Simon could catch up.

  “So, I’m guessing he said no,” said Simon.

  “I knew it was a mistake to ask him. I mean, as little kids our parents told us scary bedtime stories about Troll City. It’s the creepiest place on earth—why would you want to go there? Mystics eat children in that city. They don’t care about the treaty—they make their own rules. You’d have to be insane to set foot in that town. I wouldn’t go there, even if they paid me a million dollars.”

  “No one is asking you to go.” Zoey marched down to the main entrance and pushed open the front doors. The cool air felt great on her hot face.

  Tristan ran after her. “I know you’re mad Zoey, but be reasonable. Zoey!”

  He grabbed her hand and turned her around to face him. “Wait a second, will you? You have to stop this. You’re obsessing about something that might not even be true. Just stop a second and think it through, okay?”

  Zoey wiggled out of his grasp. “It is true. I know it’s true. I don’t care if you don’t believe me. You don’t understand. You can’t understand. Both of you guys have families—you have parents that love and support you. You can’t understand what it’s like to grow up alone. All I ever wanted was a family, a real one. I need to do this for me.”

  Tristan’s expression contracted. “Need to do…what exactly? What are you saying?”

  He watched her for a moment, and then the realization slowly appeared on his face.

  “No. Please tell me you’re not planning on going? Zoey, that’s insane. I won’t let you.”

  “Go? Go where exactly?” said Simon, looking paler than usual.

  Zoey turned away from them. “I’m not asking you to come with me. I wouldn’t want you guys to get in trouble. But I’m going. I’m going tonight.”

  Simon pulled the hair on the top of his head. “Oh, man. Oh, man. Oh man. This is wild! This is nuts! I think I’m breaking out in hives!”

  Tristan took Zoey’s hand, but she pulled it away. He watched her anxiously.

  “Zoey, you can’t be serious. Please, think about this for a moment. Just think about what you’re saying—”

  “I’ve been thinking about it for five days,” said Zoey. “I need to do this. I’m going to Troll City, and no one’s going to stop me.”

  Tristan surveyed her silently for a moment. “Then I’m coming with you.”

  “What!” Simon wailed. “Do you hear yourselves? Both of you have lost your minds. You’re crazy, nuts, spazzed, off the wagon, lobotomized. You’re both completely insane.”

  “You coming with us?” asked Tristan casually.

  Simon responded immediately, “Of course I am.”

  The light of adventure burned in his eyes, and he smiled. “This is the kind of stuff that’ll make men out of us. Maybe I’ll come back with real facial h
air? Women love that.”

  Zoey smiled at her friends. “If things go wrong, don’t blame me.”

  “We won’t,” Tristan and Simon chorused together.

  “You can still say no—” she began. “—I wouldn’t be upset. I would totally understand.”

  “We’re coming with you.”

  Tristan fell silent for a second and looked at Zoey. “You’ll need someone to watch your back,” he said finally. “—And Simon can watch mine.”

  “So who’s going to watch my back?” said Simon, looking behind him.

  “We both will,” answered Zoey.

  She lowered her voiced and looked around, “You think you can meet me at midnight tonight in the main hall?”

  “Yes,” said Tristan.

  “Okay,” answered Simon. “My dad’s going to kill me if he catches me using my mirror-port in the middle of the night.”

  Tristan raised an eyebrow. “So don’t let him catch you.”

  With Tristan and Simon watching her back, what could possibly go wrong? Zoey felt certain they would find Elizabeth.

  “So it’s settled then,” she said, smiling. “See you at midnight.”

  There was added security after the Krakenite attacks, so Zoey had sneaked back into the hive before lockdown and had hidden in room 1D. If an agent came by, she would use the excuse that she had homework to catch up on. To make her story more believable, she logged on and did actual work until the numbers at the bottom right of her screen said 12:00 AM.

  With her gold boomerang fastened securely to the bracelet around her right wrist, she logged off and quietly closed the door behind her. Holding her breath, she tiptoed on the marble floors and along the dark corridors. She shifted her weight carefully so she wouldn’t make a sound with her sneakers.

  The moon shone through the tall windows and turned the walls and floors to shades of silver and blue. The darkness and eerie silence were gloomy.

  Footsteps echoed down the hall.

  She pressed herself flat against the wall and waited, her heart banging in her ears. The footsteps neared. She stopped breathing and stole a peek.