“How did you know that?” Midnight took off her glasses for one moment to check that the man was actually real. He was.
“Because like all protectors, I’ve been where you are now. I too have witnessed someone turn to dust when the spectral energy they’ve been misappropriating is released. But trust me, it will get easier.”
“Protector?” Tabitha folded her arms and stepped closer to Midnight, her blue eyes filled with menace. “What’s that? And by the way, who are you?”
“Forgive me. I’m Peter Gallagher.”
“What?” Midnight’s jaw went slack. “As in Peter Gallagher from the ghost hunter app?”
“I actually work for the Agency for Spectral Protection. It’s our job to ensure that spectral energy isn’t misused.” He handed them both a business card. “And you must be Midnight Reynolds.”
“Um, yeah.” She studied the card for a moment but apart from saying, Peter Gallagher, Esq., Director, it wasn’t much help. “This is my friend Tabitha Wilson. But I don’t understand how this is all connected to the ghost app.”
“Ever heard of hiding in plain sight?” A small smile tugged at his mouth. “We created the app to draw out any potential protectors who could see spectral energy.”
Tabitha nodded her head in approval. “That’s completely genius.”
“Thank you. And now I’d formally like to thank you for doing such a stellar job of neutralizing this woman. I also need to ask your forgiveness for being so tardy in discovering that there even was a Black Stream here in your delightful town. And yes, I can see that you both have lots of questions, so let me give you a quick rundown as my team dismantles the house. How does that sound?”
“Surreal,” Midnight admitted as she looked over to the house. Several of the moving company guys were standing at the back door, their overalls replaced with black suits and round bowler hats. They’d been his team all along.
“As you may or may not know, when spectral energy is not allowed to pass across to the Afterglow, it attracts a more dangerous counter-energy called planodiume.”
“Dark energy.” Midnight nodded her head. “That’s what George Irongate called it.”
“Ah, yes. He was the inventor of this contraption I see.” Peter Gallagher carefully lowered himself to the ground to examine the electro-pulse converter that was still sitting on the newly restored grass. “Reversing the polarity to release the trapped spectral energy. Very clever.” He examined it with interest before seeming to realize that Midnight and Tabitha were still standing there. “But enough of that. Whenever planodiume’s allowed to build up, the results are diabolical, as I’m sure you’ve discovered. So we at ASP spend all of our time ensuring that spectral energy can move freely across to the Afterglow.”
“The snowflakes,” Midnight said, thinking of all the small sparks of energy she’d been noticing everywhere. “That’s what it’s meant to look like, isn’t it?”
He nodded. “That’s right. It’s quiet magnificent to see. It only becomes dangerous if it’s trapped here on Earth longer than it needs to be.”
“There are more people like Miss Appleby who use it to stay young?” Tabitha’s blue eyes widened, though it was impossible to tell if it was with excitement or terror.
“Among other things. When spectral energy’s trapped inside inanimate objects such as glass and metals, it can be used as a weapon. When people say that mirrors and certain items are haunted, they aren’t too far from the truth. Then, there are those who collect planodiume and use it as a power source. It’s our job to carefully monitor all the Black Streams around the world to ensure that spectral energy isn’t getting unduly trapped.”
“So why did it take you so long to find out about Berry?” Midnight wrinkled her nose and Peter Gallagher let out a reluctant sigh.
“Your Miss Appleby had been operating here since before we started keeping records, draining so much spectral energy that we didn’t even realize it was a hot spot. However, as you responded to each one of our surveys, we could start collating a pattern to let us see how much energy had been drained from the Black Stream.”
“I feel so terrible.” Midnight bowed her head as her cheeks heated up. “The thing is that I never—”
“It’s not your fault,” Tabitha cut in, her lips twisting. “Midnight didn’t know that what she was doing was dangerous, and as soon as she did, she was determined to fix it. Which, I might add, she totally did.”
“It wasn’t my intention to make you feel defensive,” Peter Gallagher said. “The exact opposite. The fact that you successfully neutralized an operation that’s been going on for so long is remarkable. It also leads me to my next question. As you might have realized, there aren’t nearly enough people with our abilities to cover all the Black Streams, which is why I’d like you to consider joining us.”
“Are you offering me a job?” Midnight stiffened. “Because the last time someone offered me a job, she ended up being a lying, cheating, one-hundred-and-fifty-year-old energy stealer.”
Peter Gallagher seemed to be resisting the urge to smile. “Ah, yes. Your reluctance is understandable. But what if I give you full access to all of our archives? One hundred years of evidence has been collated, and you can then make your own decision.”
“Archives?” Tabitha looked at him with interest. “You say you have detailed archives? Does that include all births and deaths as well as socioeconomic characteristics?”
“I think that goes without saying,” Peter Gallagher said. He produced a small tablet from his suit coat and tapped at the screen several times before passing it over.
“Nice.” Tabitha let out a long whistle before fixing him with her piercing gaze. “What are your thoughts about hiring people without the sight?”
“We’re always interested in support staff,” he assured her. He flicked to another screen and showed Tabitha another database. Before Midnight could look at it, she caught sight of a delicate slither of pink fog hovering around the upstairs window. Midnight froze, half expecting Peter Gallagher to see it, but he seemed as oblivious to it as Miss Appleby had been.
Her breath quickened as the pale mist gently drifted toward her until it was so close she could almost reach out and touch it. Her heart hammered in her chest as the mist formed into a ball, and for one second, she could see the face of Elizabeth Irongate staring back at her.
Thank you. It is done, a soft voice echoed in her ear. Before Midnight could answer, the face disintegrated, and tendrils of mist spiraled toward the sky and out of sight.
“Wow, Midnight. This data’s going to blow your mind. I mean it’s unbelievable,” her friend enthused before narrowing her eyes. “Hey, what’s wrong with you? You look like you’ve seen a—”
“I’m fine,” Midnight quickly cut in, shaking her head to clear her vision. “Just still trying to process everything.”
“That’s completely understandable,” Peter Gallagher replied. The all-too-familiar sound of the ghost app sounded out from somewhere in his pristine suit. He gave them an apologetic smile as he studied the screen. “Sorry, a report in Japan that I need to take care of. I’ll leave you both for now. Could you consider my offer and get back to me within a week?”
“Okay.” Midnight nodded, and they both watched as he disappeared into the house.
“This has been a really strange day.” Tabitha shook her head before grinning. “And no pressure or anything, but you are going to say yes to him, right?”
Midnight didn’t respond, but as she looked up at the sky, to where the pale pink fog had disappeared, she was pretty sure there was only one answer she could give.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“Come on, Midnight. I know you like your glasses, but have you thought about getting some different frames?” Tabitha said on Wednesday as they sat in the far corner of the cafeteria, getting ignored by just about everyone. “I saw these awesome ones that have tiny skulls all around them. You’re so lucky you have bad eyesight.”
&n
bsp; “You say the sweetest things,” Midnight retorted as she finished her sandwich and grinned. “And thanks for all of your help on that other thing.”
“That other thing that we decided we shouldn’t talk about in school in case anyone overhears us?” Tabitha coughed.
“We’re in the Siberia of the cafeteria. I don’t think anyone’s listening,” Midnight said in a dry voice, though it was impossible not to smile. They’d met with Peter Gallagher three days ago to both officially join the ASP family, so flying under the radar was probably the best thing they could do.
“Good point. So how are you adapting to the new geography? Not quite as spacious as that long table in the middle you used to sit at with Sav and Lucy,” Tabitha said as a redhaired seventh grader pushed past her chair. “By the way, where are they? I haven’t seen either of them all morning.”
“Are you guys saying that you don’t know?” The redhaired girl sat down next to them, her eyes sparkling with news. “I thought that you were tight with those two.”
“Not exactly,” Midnight quickly said. “Why? What’s happened?”
“Shoplifting. They stole some sweaters from the mall and got caught.”
“What?” Midnight sat up straight. Spectral energy made sense. This did not. “There must be a mistake. They both get so much allowance each week, there’s no reason for them to steal.”
“People don’t always steal because of money,” Tabitha said. “My mom knew a woman at the tennis club who’d go to the mall and steal lipsticks and then drive home in her Mercedes. Sometimes it’s for the thrill. Are you sure about this?”
“Um, yeah.” The girl gave a decisive nod of her head. “I was in the office this morning, running an errand for Miss Henderson, when the police came in with a photo of them from a security camera. Isn’t that the most amazing thing you’ve ever heard?”
“Yes, there’s nothing I like better than hearing about other people’s misfortunes.” Tabitha pursed her lips. “And since you don’t like when people talk about you, you should put a lid on it. Now scram.”
“Grateful much?” the girl muttered, but all the same, she collected her books and scuttled away, leaving Midnight and Tabitha alone at the table.
Midnight was the first to recover. “I still can’t believe this.”
“I wish I could say the same, but those two have a sense of entitlement that follows them around a bit like Miss Appleby’s black energy.” Tabitha toyed with one of her many bracelets before studying Midnight’s face. “Did you really not know anything about it?”
Midnight gave a resolute shake of her head. “Absolutely not. It just makes no—” She paused as she remembered the green sweater that she caught them looking at when they’d been at the food court. And the things that Sav said she’d paid for when she’d gone out of the changing rooms to get the white jacket for Midnight to try on. Or the earrings that Midnight didn’t recognize. She let out a little gasp.
“I take it you’ve realized they did it,” Tabitha said.
Midnight nodded. “To think that I only took the job with Miss Appleby because I was worried about how to pay for the ski trip, and the whole time they were stealing, I was trying to buy.”
“If it’s any consolation, I don’t think there’s going to be a ski trip this year. I don’t know Lucy’s parents at all, but I do know Sav’s. There’s no way they’ll be happy about this,” Tabitha said just as her phone beeped. She studied the screen and jumped to her feet. “That was Mrs. Crown. Would you believe that she’s just found the death certificate for Arielle Jenkins?”
Midnight blinked. She had no idea who Arielle Jenkins was or why it mattered they’d found her death certificate, but she knew better than to argue. “Wow. You’d better go and see it.” Thanks to Tabitha’s persistence, they were the only pair to get an A on their local history project. Turned out it was the photos of the cemetery that had really made the difference.
“I’ll be back in five minutes.” Tabitha got to her feet and pushed her way through the crowd, a vision in black. Whenever Sav and Lucy had left her alone in the cafeteria, Midnight had always felt self-conscious, as if she’d accidentally stepped into a world where she didn’t belong. But here, she was surrounded by people just like her. It was strangely relaxing. She adjusted her glasses and was just about to study one of the many books Peter Gallagher had given her when Logan appeared.
“Hey, Midnight. Do you mind if I sit down?” he said. Midnight’s cheeks heated as she quickly put her elbows over the book to hide the title.
“Oh, um, n-no,” she stammered before catching his disappointed look. “I mean no, I don’t mind.”
“Thanks. So, I was hoping to ask for some help with that upcoming science quiz.”
“Are you sure that I shouldn’t be asking you for help?” Midnight said before realizing that she’d actually strung a whole sentence together.
“Let me guess, Tabitha snitched on me?” Logan twisted his mouth and it showed his dimples. Why hadn’t she ever noticed them before?
“I wouldn’t say snitched.” A smile hovered on her lips. “But the word ‘brainiac’ might’ve been thrown around.”
“Are you mad?”
“No, just surprised—but good surprised.” Midnight gave him a shy smile. “Tabitha also mentioned that you were pretty nice.”
“Really? That doesn’t sound like her. Unless—” Logan let out a groan. “She told you about that black nail polish, didn’t she?”
“It’s possible.” Midnight giggled. “But it makes you sound like a pretty cool study partner.”
His eyes lit up. “Are you saying that you might want to hang out and study together sometime?”
“Yeah.” Midnight gave a slow nod of her head just as the bell rang.
“Cool. I mean really cool. So, I guess I’ll see you around.”
“Okay.” Midnight smiled and watched him leave. She started to gather her books up as Tabitha came hurtling back toward her.
“Did I just see you talking to Logan?” her friend demanded. “Were real words and full sentences used?”
“Actually, they were.”
“Excellent.” Tabitha nodded in approval, and they threaded their way out of the cafeteria. “And now when I’m at your house tonight for dinner, I thought we could discuss the new spreadsheet you’re making to handle working for ASP.”
“How do you know that I’m doing a spreadsheet?” Midnight started before coming to a halt. “And what’s this about dinner?”
“Oh, your mom invited me to have a look at all the photos I took of the lemons she gave us. I told her they would look great on her blog and she agreed. I’m not saying that food photography is as good as going to the cemetery, but it’s not bad,” Tabitha explained before frowning. “And before you say it, it’s not weird.”
“It is a little bit weird,” Midnight corrected, smiling. “But then again, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
As always, a big thank-you to my dear friends, Sara Hantz and Christina Phillips, for helping guide me through yet another book. You guys are the absolute best. I’d also like to thank Rachel Bailey for being wise and funny and always on hand no matter what.
Thank-you to Susan Hawk for being such a fan of this story and for being so patient as we worked to get it right!
I’d also like to give a shout-out to all my lovely colleagues at Napier Library who love books just as much as I do. A special mention to Mathew Clare who is the ultimate children’s librarian and a nice guy to boot!
It’s been such a joy working on this book and that’s been down to Wendy McClure, Eliza Swift, Alexandra Messina-Schultheis, and the entire team at Albert Whitman. Thank you so much for providing Midnight with such a lovely home.
And finally, to my husband and kids, who’ve had the pleasure of being dragged into numerous brainstorming sessions, whether they’ve wanted to or not. See, I told you it would pay off.
CATHERINE HOLT was born in Aus
tralia but now lives in New Zealand, where she spends her time writing books and working in a library. She has a degree in English and journalism from the University of Queensland and is married with two children. She also writes books for older readers under the name Amanda Ashby and hopes that all this writing won’t interfere with her Netflix schedule.
Midnight Reynolds and the Spectral Transformer Page 14
