by Amy Hopkins
Classes that week had been a scattered mess of cancellations and reschedules, thanks to the threat of protesters. True to Agent Crenel’s word, though, no one had appeared to harass the students.
The official recommendations for curfew and group travel had been lifted the day before, though March had insisted the students stay vigilant and avoid drawing notice to themselves where possible.
Penny dressed, eager now that she remembered the FBI Agent would be teaching the class.
“Hurrying off to meet Mr. Hot Pants?” Amelia asked.
Penny eyed the low-cut top Amelia had picked out. “You’re wearing that?”
“Red said he’d have lunch with me.” Amelia grinned, then pouted. “But you’re right. If we’re going to be wrestling with Jason and Corey, I’d better pick something more appropriate.”
“Like plate mail?” Penny asked. The two boys hadn’t even taken the chance to grope anyone during defense training, but the sly comments they’d made didn’t make the idea of tackling them appealing. Well, not unless she got a well-placed knee in.
“This will have to do.” Amelia selected a high-necked leotard top. It would be impossible to pull it up or down in a simple demonstration.
“Nice choice,” Penny said. Her own attire—her normal uniform of a t-shirt and jeans, topped off with her aging work boots—would have to do. “Let’s go.”
Penny paused as she descended the stairs to the ground level of the Academy, hearing the muffled sounds of raised voices filtering through the thick walls.
She held a hand out to halt Amelia. “Wait.”
“What’s that noise?” Amelia pushed past Penny and headed for the foyer.
“Amelia, that’s not what ‘wait’ means!” Penny hurried to catch up.
They pushed the door, only to have it pushed back.
A moment later, Professor Craster poked his head out. “Get to class,” he growled. “Nothing to see here.”
He slammed the door closed, and Penny heard the lock click.
She exchanged a glance with Amelia. “We’d better go. At any rate, Cisco will know what’s happening.
“Wait.” Amelia glanced at the stairs. “Follow me.”
She ran back up to the girls' dorm, turning away from their own corridor and racing past a row of closed doors to the end of the hallway, where Mara, Kathleen, and another student were clustered around the window.
“Coming through.” Amelia nudged them aside to squeeze in.
Mara stepped back, pale-faced. “I’m going to class,” she mumbled. “Kath?”
Kathleen withdrew to join her, wearing the same wide-eyed look of fear as her friend. When Penny reached the window, she saw why.
A cluster of people—maybe two dozen, Penny guessed—had gathered at the main entrance gate to the Academy. Through the pitted glass in the window, Penny could make out some of the signs they held.
Witch.
Evil.
Doom-bringers.
Penny shuddered. “Is it the same people?” she whispered.
The girl beside Amelia glanced back. “I saw them here earlier in the week. They brought some signs, but the police came and chased them away pretty quick.” She turned back to the window. “Guess I know why my class was canceled this morning.”
“Who’d you have?” Penny asked.
“Craster. Now that Jones is gone, he’s taken over as the security manager for the Academy.” The girl took a shuddering breath and turned away from the sight. “I’m going back to my room.”
“Wait. Jones really is gone for good? It’s not just a suspension?” Amelia tugged her arm. “When did that happen?”
The girl shrugged. “We were told Monday. They said they were going to replace him soon, but no word who they’ll get yet.” She shrugged off any more attempts to converse, folding her arms tightly across her chest and disappearing into one of the nearby rooms.
When they got to the defense training room, Agent Crenel was waiting. He glanced at his watch as the girls entered, but didn’t say anything, and Penny was relieved to see three other students were still missing.
Clive, Heddy, and Kathy arrived barely a minute later, collectively red-faced and out of breath.
“Sorry, Professor,” Heddy gasped. “I mean—wait, what do we call you?”
Crenel waited a beat before answering. “Agent Crenel is fine.”
“What’s going on outside?” Kathy demanded. “Why are they protesting against us?”
Looking as if he’d rather answer any other question in the world, Agent Crenel sighed. His eyes darted to the window, then back to the class. “I’m afraid word of the curriculum here has spread. The bureauis working toward an agreement that will give this Academy added protections—both under the law, and physically—but until then, we must tread carefully.”
“The law?” A chill ran over Penny’s arms. “What the hell?”
Crenel met her gaze, then glanced at the bag by her feet. “Of course, any harm the protestors do to a person would be covered by existing laws. However, if any unsanctioned mythological beings get injured… Well, let’s just say the trial cases have been less than promising.”
He quickly changed tack, moving onto the topic of vampiric defense.
Penny’s mind lingered. That agreement can protect Boots, she realized. But back home, would she need protection in the first place?
Chapter Seventeen
The venue for the cult meeting was a tiny red-brick house nestled in the outer suburbs of Portland, lit by cheery LED lanterns strung from the eaves at the front.
It wasn't exactly what Penny had expected.
Amelia shivered. "This just gets weirder by the minute.”
"What did you expect?" Cisco stepped in front of them, walking to knock on the door. "A ruined castle decorated with gargoyles?"
Penny shrugged, not letting on that that was much closer to her expectations, than this, well, very normal house. "Are we sure it's the right place?”
Red thrust his hands in his pockets, shuffling nervously. "Well, the black balloons tied to the letterbox suggests that it is."
"It's more like a birthday party for an emo eleven-year-old than the meeting of a highly organized cult." Regardless, Penny joined Cisco at the door.
Cisco knocked again, and this time, it opened.
The fresh-faced young woman who stared up at him was the one that had given Amelia the pamphlet. "Hi! I’m Felicity. You're here for the meeting?"
She stepped back to let them in when they nodded. "Just take a seat wherever you can find one. There are chips and dip on the coffee table. Um, the beer is coming, but we had to wait for Mark." She closed the door as she babbled and led them into a sunken living room with a beige shag-pile carpet. "He and Tobias are the only ones old enough to buy it," she admitted with a giggle.
Penny couldn't help but cringe at Felicity’s overeager attempts to win them over. She shuffled into the living room and perched on the edge of a threadbare couch, carefully avoiding some of the nastier stains.
Four girls and two boys—definitely too young to buy booze in the States, Penny assumed—had squeezed onto the longer of the three couches. All were dressed in black, the girls sporting dark lipstick, charcoal eyeshadow, and foundation that was clearly a few shades too pale for their natural coloring.
Penny glanced around to see her friends still hovering in the doorway. She grunted and jerked her head, motioning for them to sit down.
Amelia stepped down into the circle of chairs, slotting herself next to Penny. Cisco perched on the arm next to her, and Red squeezed in at the end. It was squashed, but they fit.
"I'm Amelia, and this is Penny." Amelia introduced the boys as well, then waited expectantly.
"I'm Paige," one of the girls mumbled. She didn't lift her eyes, and none of the others spoke.
Felicity reappeared, holding a bowl of Doritos. "Forgot to put the snacks out," she explained breezily. "So, where are you all from?" She clasped her hands, waitin
g expectantly.
"Oh, around." Amelia waved off the question. "Penny here is visiting from Australia. She's...staying with me."
There was a knock at the door and with a look of relief, Felicity ran off again, leaving the room in silence.
Penny hesitantly leaned forward and picked up a handful of Doritos. Amelia made a face at her—eyes wide, mouth tight. Penny shrugged and put it in her mouth. If they want to poison us, they probably could have done it at the coffee shop, she reasoned.
“Dude, they’re nacho-style,” Amelia told her.
Penny frowned, no idea what Amelia was trying to convey with the cryptic message. Moments later, trying to choke down the burning sensation, she decided that next time she’d listen to Amelia.
She heard voices at the door and turned to see two men and three more girls walk inside.
Clearly, these guys had gotten the invitation that listed the dress code. Of the men, one looked a little older. His short, scruffy beard was still a little patchy, and his lank black hair made him look older than he otherwise would have.
The other guy with him was his polar opposite. Tan skin, white smile, and sandy blond hair combed in a way that looked like he'd just flicked a hand through it—the kind of look that probably took four hours and at least two types of styling product to attain.
"Mark, Tobias! Look, we have new guests." Felicity's voice suggested that this was the most unexpected point of all. Mark, the dark-haired guy, simply grunted and shrugged. Tobias, however, rushed forward to greet the newcomers. "I'm so glad you made it," he gushed. “Sorry for leaving you alone for so long." He turned to Felicity, his voice hardening. “You should have called."
Felicity stammered out an apology that Penny interrupted, feeling bad for the girl. "It's fine, really,” she assured him. "We were just getting to know everyone."
Tobias raised a skeptical eyebrow, but a scowl from Mark made him back down.
“Well, uhh, let’s get started.” Still flustered, Felicity gestured toward a small alcove behind the living room. One by one, the black-clad guests filed toward it.
“Are we sure this is a good idea?” Amelia murmured.
“Too late.” Penny pointed ahead. Red had, in all his innocence, struck up a conversation with a reluctant young girl and was already disappearing into the darkness.
“That boy,” Amelia grumbled. “He’d follow a pretty girl into a pool full of alligators.”
“Cisco has his back,” Penny assured her. Indeed, Cisco was next through the door, stone-faced as he glanced over his shoulder at her.
The doorway led down a narrow flight of steps into a dingy basement. Penny wrinkled her nose, wondering if the damp smell was just old laundry or a more serious problem.
Plastic chairs lined the room in an awkward circle.
Not seeing a spot that would let her merge into the wood-paneled walls, Penny simply took the closest one, yanking Amelia down next to her.
“All right, all right.” Mark stood in the center of the chatter and hubbub, a tall, rusted pitchfork in one hand. Or is it a trident? Penny wondered. “Order!”
The silence that fell when he thumped the staff on the wooden floor wasn’t complete but was apparently the best he would get.
Ignoring the few stray whispers and giggles, he cleared his throat and began.
“Right. This is the first meeting since the...uhh, the Baghdad event—“
“You mean the ghost-summoning,” a girl called.
Mark flattened his mouth in disapproval, his eyes flicking to Amelia and Penny, then across the circle to Cisco and Red. “Yes.”
“That was a total fuck-up!” This time, it was the guy beside Penny who called out. “We lost the Book of—“
“Dammit, Craig, I know that,” Mark snapped. “We don’t have to air out all our dirty laundry in one night, do we?”
“Come on, Mark,” Felicity said. “We summoned ghosts! Maybe we didn’t intend to get all of them, but we did it! And we still have copies of the book.”
Penny’s heart skipped a beat. “Book? Ghosts? Come on, guys, you gotta fill us newcomers in.”
A cocky smirk crept over Mark’s face. “Yeah, we summoned ghosts. At a theatre. It’s what we do.”
“We did it once, Mark,” Craig said dryly. “And it was still a fuck-u—“
“SHUT UP!” Mark rounded on Craig. “Shut up, you fucking child. Why do you try to undermine everything I do? I had—“
“Jesus, Mark, cool down.” Tobias stood and walked over to Mark, who threw off the placating hand placed on his shoulder. “You’ll scare off the new kids.”
Tobias’s words only seemed to make Mark angrier, and yet he stood down, wrenching his arm away before stalking back to the middle of the circle. “Next time, we’re gonna summon something real. Something big. Any ideas?” He glared around the room.
“Hold up,” Amelia stood, ignoring Penny’s tug on her arm. “Guys, this all sounds crazy.” She quickly held her hands up at Mark defensively. “I mean, good-crazy. But what are you talking about? What’s the end game?” She sat again, folding her arms across her chest as if daring them to answer her.
Felicity raised her hand timidly. When Mark nodded to let her speak, Penny tried not to cringe. I haven’t had to raise my hand to speak since I was in primary school.
Felicity stood, her hands folded in front of her, head raised like she was delivering a well-rehearsed presentation. “Our mission is to bring a new dark age to America. Not to bring about the collapse of mankind, just society. To bring us back to a time where magic ruled, where pagan gods walked the lands, where crops thrived by the will of the gods, not corporate monsters.”
“Does she realize she’s…” Penny’s whisper drifted off as she struggled to find a word that encompassed Felicity’s delusion.
“Crazy?” Amelia murmured back.
Penny shrugged. “There are more than a few ‘roos loose in the top paddock over there, that’s for sure.”
Rather than agree, Amelia turned a stunned expression her way. “What does that even mean?”
Penny winked. “Just listen.”
Felicity’s monologue continued, about how modern society was broken, the rich had all the power, and bringing back the “dark times” would create a new playing field—one where the balance was not weighted by money.
“So, how do we do it?” Penny asked, leaning forward. I’ve got to find out about that book.
“We summon monsters,” Mark said. “And hunt down artifacts of great power.”
“Aye, is your stick one, then?” Red asked cheerily. “What’s it do?”
Mark’s jaw twitched, and someone smothered a giggle. “No. It’s...a replica.”
“A replica of what?” Cisco asked, his eyes too wide to be entirely innocent.
“Great Poseidon’s trident,” Mark growled.
He opened his mouth to say more, but Red interjected. “So you haven’t found one, then? That’s a shame. I found a lucky penny once, but I dropped it down a drain.” His gaze unfocused as he stared into the distance. “You know, maybe it wasn’t all that lucky.
Penny bit down hard on her lip as Mark’s blood pressure visibly rose, his face so angry it verged on comical. His pasty face filled with blood, first his neck, then his cheeks and ears turning blotchy red. She smothered a giggle as he sucked in a trembling breath.
“What Mark means to say is,” Tobias interrupted smoothly, “we’ve found several artifacts in the past few months, but only the initiated are allowed to access those.”
“What kinds of things?” Penny pressed, desperate to bring the conversation back around to the book. “You talked about summoning ghosts. How did you do that?”
Mark went to speak again, but again, he was interrupted.
Tobias smoothly stepped between the dark-haired man and Penny. “I’m sure you’ll understand why we can’t talk about specifics?” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “There are organizations out there doing their best to close us
down. If they were to find out what we have…” He shrugged, the gesture somehow ominous. “And let’s be honest—we don’t know you. Not yet.”
“Oh. Fair enough.” Penny shrank down in her seat. Something about Tobias—his quick mood swings, his false charm—made her uneasy.
The rest of them she could write off as posers, kids with too much time and not enough sense.
Tobias, however, was dangerous.
The meeting settled down after that. The members discussed recent Myther sightings, information Penny already had through the college.
Suggestions for future summonings were brought up and shot down, mostly by Tobias. He didn’t give reasons, just spat “No” at the members who offered up obscure bits of lore or rattled off a wishlist of ancient deities.
Eventually, Mark had had enough. “Did you forget who started this group?” He sneered at Tobias. “You’ve only been hanging around for the last two months. You waltz in here, treat my people like shit, and expect us to let you take charge?”
Tobias sat back in his chair, a slow smile spreading over his face. “Oh, sure, Mark. How does that trident work again?”
Mark’s face lost all expression, and Penny shivered. The only way a guy as angry as Mark could do that was if he was right on the edge.
“That’s right. It doesn’t.” Tobias stood, hands wide. “It’s a fake. But my book, my precious Book of Thoth, that was real.” He advanced on Mark and jabbed one finger at his chest. “And you lost it. You sent it into that theatre, knowing the FBI was watching. You got Dawn arrested. You fucked it up.” With each accusation, Tobias took another step closer.
“Watch it, Tobias,” Mark growled. “Or else.”
Tobias snorted at the empty threat. “Or else what? You’ve already lost your group. You’re a poser, Mark. They’ll follow me until—“
Mark threw a punch. Tobias easily dodged the wild swing, laughing as he brought two fists up like a boxer. “They’ll follow me, Mark.”
“Mark?” Felicity yelled. “What are you doing? Stop it, both of you!”
People scattered, two scruffy boys stepping forward timidly as if to break the fight up.
Tobias grinned. “I got us a meeting with the East Coasters, Mark. Did you manage that? You’ve been trying for months. They wouldn’t talk to you, but I’m seeing them next week.”
