Mystics 3-Book Collection

by Kim Richardson

  Zoey watched as they both held out their mirrors in front of themselves, angling them as though trying to catch the best reflection. They stood still for a moment, and then suddenly their bodies started to shimmer like a mirage until they were no more than glowing shadows. She could see right through their bodies to the other side of the street, as though they had turned into translucent and eerie ghosts. Then, with a small pop, they disappeared.

  “You can close your mouth now,” laughed Agent Barnes, seeing the utter disbelief on Zoey’s face.

  She ran to where Tristan and Agent Lee had stood seconds before. “But…but it’s impossible! They’re gone? Disappeared? They just vanished? People just don’t vanish? What happened? How is this possible?”

  “It’s called traveling by DSM,” said Agent Barnes.

  He pulled out an identical round compact and flipped it open for Zoey to see.

  “Feast your eyes on this baby. This, my dear girl, is the only smart way to travel. Can’t leave home without it,” he said and laughed at his own joke.

  But he stopped laughing when he saw Zoey’s confused expression. “This baby is a DSM—double-sided-mirror. It can take you anywhere in the world. I’m sure you’ll have your chance at it, too—once we figure out what to do with you. It’ll all make sense once we get to the hive. In you go, come on now.”

  Reluctantly, Zoey climbed into the back seat of the SUV. Tristan had said they’d meet up back at the hive, and she was curious to see if he’d still be in one piece, or if his legs had stayed in Boston.

  Agent Barnes sat in the front passenger’s seat and whispered something to the driver, a man with white hair and glasses that covered most of his face. As they drove away, the orphan district disappeared, and Zoey’s stomach gave a lurch. But it wasn’t from leaving her old life behind—it was from excitement of the unknown that lay ahead.

  Zoey was quiet during the drive out of the city. Agent Barnes and the driver were deep in conversion, keeping their voices low, but she caught the word interloper at least five times. It was clear that this device was on everyone’s mind, whatever it was.

  After about an hour’s drive the SUV pulled onto a dirt road.

  “Cold Creek,” announced Agent Barnes, and he turned around in his seat. “It’s a wildlife and forest conservation area, nobody around for miles. It’s the perfect location for a hive. It’s always best to be away from prying eyes—wouldn’t want any Mutes in our backyard—if you know what I mean?”

  No? Zoey wanted to say, but she didn’t. She had no idea what Mutes where.

  “I was around your age when I first came here. I remember it like it was yesterday. It was the best day of my life. I’d always wanted to be an agent, you know. My parents are retired now, but they both worked for the agency. Ah, enough about me. I’m sure you’ll like it here. For one thing, the air’s a lot better than that filth you were breathing before in the city.”

  Green forests ran for miles on the opposite sides of the narrow road. Rolling hills loomed in the distance, and she could see a river snaking through acres of swamp. Zoey had never been in the country or so far north. She had lived surrounded by dirty concrete buildings and smelly paved streets for as long as she could remember. She had never seen anything so beautiful. It was like stepping into a National Geographic magazine.

  The SUV climbed a short rise and then descended into a circular valley surrounded by mountains. A giant building made of metal and glass rested in the middle of the valley. As they got closer , Zoey could see it was made in the shape of a capital A, lying flat. A for Agency, she realized. It sparkled in the moonlight, and yellow light seeped out through rows of windows. It stood alone and proud—set back from the forest—keeping the wilderness at a respectable distance. It looked out of place in the rough country, like an alien spacecraft that had just landed.

  They drove around a circular driveway and parked the SUV in front of the building. The driver kept the motor running.

  “Let’s go, Little Red,” said Agent Barnes cheerfully as he clambered out of the car.

  He opened Zoey’s door for her. “There’s a boardroom filled with important people waiting to see you. I think they’re still in shock, to tell you the truth. It’s been a while since anyone’s seen a Drifter. You’re quite the mystery to all of us. I can’t wait to see the look on Director Martin’s face when he sees you. I just might take a picture.”

  Zoey climbed out of the back seat and stood on a stone walkway at the entrance of the building.

  They were all a mystery to her as well. She clenched her trembling fingers into fists so that Agent Barnes wouldn’t see how nervous she felt. The building looked like a research facility or a giant laboratory, imposing yet cold and probably super clean—nothing like the foster homes she’d lived in before, with her friends the cockroaches and Mr. and Mrs. Rat.

  Grand double glass doors stood at the entrance, like the gateway to some other world. She could see shapes moving inside, and her stomach did a summersault. The ground began to waver, and when she realized she was holding her breath, she exhaled and did her best to breathe normally, even though she could feel a panic attack on its way. She couldn’t decide it if was from the excitement or the fear in the back of her mind. This was still new territory. Agent Barnes was nice enough, but he was a stranger. This whole thing could still be a trap.

  Agent Barnes drew himself up proudly and said with a smile, “Welcome to the hive number 416, the best darn place on earth, if you ask me. It is the only place where mystics and humans work together…and don’t kill one another.” He tapped his gun, and Zoey could see a glint of mischief in his eyes.

  “Come along, Red. They’re waiting for us. Be prepared to be amazed.” He strolled up to the front entrance with a hop in his step and held the doors open.

  Bracing herself, Zoey walked through the front doors and stepped into a vast marble hall.

  At first it looked like the normal lobby of a government building with high ceilings, windows, and a comfortable seating area with brown leather sofas and plush chairs. But the further she went, the more obvious it became that this was no ordinary government establishment. She had never imagined such a peculiar and wonderful place.

  Tall mirrors lined the walls on either side of the great hall in the same way that important portraits of past officials lined the walls of government buildings. The mirrors were round, square, rectangle, some were even triangle shaped, and they all hung low to the ground. They were made of gold, silver, bronze—every metal imaginable. Some were even dressed with multicolored jewels and looked as though they belonged in some make-believe castle. Some of the mirrors were old fashioned, with brass frames and blackened mirrors—marked with age as though they were hundreds of years old. Others looked new, with no traces of wear. They reflected the light like a river catching the rays from the sun in the early morning.

  Two men in green uniforms were delicately removing a large cracked mirror and leaving a large rectangular stain on the wall as though the mirror had been there for ages. Another man with a broom was sweeping up the pieces.

  As she strolled past, Zoey leaned forward for a better look. Above each mirror were two light bulbs, a red one and a green one. Most of the red lights were on—all except for one.

  She could hear a low humming, and a sudden draft brushed her cheek as though a gust of wind had rolled by. But there were no open windows nearby. Then the only mirror without a red light shimmered as though the mirror itself was made of water. The green light bulb flickered on, and a man in a yellow rain coat stepped out, leaving a wet trail behind him.

  Zoey’s jaw dropped.

  The man smiled as he passed Zoey and said, “The rain is really coming down in Bangkok.” She closed her mouth, embarrassed when she realized she had been staring at him.

  Did he just say that he just came from Bangkok?

  There was a sudden loud buzzing from the opposite side of the hall. The light bulb on another golden mirror flashed green, and
a woman walked out. Her body covered in orange smoke like she had just stepped out of a volcano. The woman dusted herself off and walked calmly away with her chin in the air, as though everything were normal.

  “Keep moving, Little Red,” said Agent Barnes with a smirk. Zoey moved along, but she kept turning around, trying not to miss anything.

  And then she saw something that made her gawk even more.

  An impressive glass panel on the right wall was a directory for the building. The large black lettering read:

  THE AGENCY

  North American Branch No. 416

  SUPERNATURAL AFFAIRS, Room 4A

  MYSTICS LAWS AND REGULATIONS, Room 3B

  CREATURE CONTROL, Room 2C

  INTER-DIMENSION TRADE, COMMINUCATIONS & TRANSPORTATION, Room 2A

  MILITIA AND DEFENSE, Room 1B

  SEVENTHS’ ACADEMY, Room 1D

  ILLEGALS, DETAINEES, OR ANY UNLAWFUL AND HOSTILE MYSTICS, Basement level

  A small note at the bottom added:

  For all other matters, please see Ms. Andrews at the front desk.

  Zoey was mesmerized. As she passed, she could see her own astonished face reflected in the countless mirrors that lead off the main hall. It reminded her of the one time she had sneaked into the circus’s fun house, where the mirrors distorted your face and body. But these weren’t ordinary carnival mirrors, these were much more unusual.

  Suddenly the entire hall buzzed, and masses of people stepped out of mirrors all around her—people and monsters.

  Chapter 4

  Management

  Blood pounded in Zoey’s ears. A kangaroo-like creature with a flat, human-like face and a very long feathery tail hopped along the corridor. A dog with the face of an axe trotted alongside a man with four legs in a navy suit. A woman with thick green and orange striped skin and red eyes like burning coals carried a pile of important looking papers. Striding next to her was an enormous man with bulging muscles, a pronounced forehead, and a single piercing blue eye. Zoey’s creeps stung her skin like a nuclear goose-bump attack. The sensation wasn’t cold this time, though—it was unusually warm. Subconsciously, she reached for her backpack, but let it go when she caught Agent Barnes’ warning scowl.

  Zoey’s attention was quickly diverted when a beautiful steed galloped by. Its body blazed like a wildfire in red and orange flames. She felt the heat from its body on her face. She had never seen anything so beautiful, but she resisted the temptation to reach out and touch it lest she burn her fingers. She wasn’t sure if the fire was real.

  “Get back here you insubordinate animal!”

  A skinny bald man in overalls and a plaid shirt whose knees cracked as he struggled to run after the horse called out, “You’re not allowed on the main floor. Come back here! I’ll hose you down, horse!”

  The horse neighed loudly and left only a fiery-red trail behind as it disappeared through the main doors.

  The strangest beasts Zoey had ever seen passed her by without even a glance in her direction. With her heart hammering in her ears, she strained to calm down—if Agent Barnes could be so cool, then so could she. But she turned her head in every direction as they walked through the hall as she tried to absorb everything at once.

  A tall thin woman flailed her hands in the air as she spoke to another group of agents. “Rank six mystics took the Paris subway system hostage. It took us five hours to neutralize the situation. I don’t get paid enough for this kind of work…”

  Agent Barnes grinned at Zoey’s amazement. “Told you it was awesome.”

  Zoey wasn’t sure if she would call this awesome just yet—every single monster she’d ever faced before had wanted to harm her.

  But it was different here—the monsters almost seemed nice. It was like a whole new world had opened up to her. Monsters and humans walked and talked together like it was the most ordinary thing in the world, as though they were one big happy family.

  She followed Agent Barnes to where a woman scribbling in a large ledger sat behind a long polished counter.

  “I see they’re working you to the bone, Mrs. Andrews,” he said with a smile. “Do you ever get time off? I hope you’re getting paid time and a half for your trouble.”

  Mrs. Andrews appeared to be in her late fifties. She wore thick glasses and pinched expression as though she had never smiled in her entire life. Her hair was done into a long blond braid, which fell over her light blue suit. Her thin lips were pressed in a hard line.

  “It’s late. I was on my way out,” she said without looking up. Her voice dripped with contempt.

  “You’re lucky you caught me, Agent Barnes. May I remind you that office hours are from nine to seven. It’s half-past eight, and the night watch doesn’t begin until nine o’clock.”

  “So why are you still here then?” said Agent Barnes playfully. “Were you waiting for me?”

  “Don’t flatter yourself, Agent Barnes. I was just tidying up for tomorrow morning. Now, what is it that you want? I don’t have all night.”

  “I’m here to see Management, my dear woman. They’re expecting us,” he said importantly and threw out his chest.

  At the mention of us, Mrs. Andrews raised her head and gazed at Zoey. Her gray eyes were magnified by her glasses and looked like giant crystal balls.

  “And who might this be? I’ve never seen the likes of her before? Her looks are certainly nothing to be considered, and those awful clothes—dear God, her hair’s as red as carrots!”

  Zoey glowered.

  Mrs. Andrews didn’t seem to notice. “Well, she’s too young to be an operative. You can’t just bring in any stray Mute, Agent Barnes, we have strict rules about that you know—even if she looks half-starved and in desperate need of a bath. The agency won’t approve.”

  Agent Barnes leaned over the counter and whispered, “She’s not a Mute—she’s a Drifter.”

  Mrs. Andrews’s eyes quadrupled in size.

  “A Drifter! You don’t say? Well, I must say—this is a surprise. I haven’t seen a Drifter in over thirty years. Well, well, well. This will be the talk of the hive! Wait till Mrs. Crawley hears—I can’t wait to see the look on her face. Ha! The Wilson’s divorce is nothing compared to this bit of news, and I’m the one who saw her first.”

  Mrs. Andrews clapped her hands excitedly, with a jubilant expression on her face like someone who had just won the lottery.

  Zoey caught several curious looks from people passing them. Her face burned, and she wished Mrs. Andrews would stop fussing and stay quiet.

  Zoey ignored the woman’s stares and looked around for Tristan. Maybe he wasn’t back from Boston.

  “Just tell them that we’re here and that we’re going up. Come on, Red, let’s go.” Agent Barnes steered Zoey away from the counter.

  She was glad to be away from those big creepy eyes. Halfway down the hall Zoey turned around and caught Mrs. Andrews still staring—an odd smile covered her face, as if she were plotting something evil.

  “So, where are we going now?” she asked, looking away from the creepy woman.

  Two large staircases led up to higher levels. Agent Barnes walked up to the staircase on the right. The words, Floors 1 - 4, BL, were written in black on the wall at the base of the stairs.

  “Up to the third floor,” he answered. “That’s where Management is waiting for us—well, waiting for you, mostly.”

  Zoey became uneasy again. What were they going to do with her? Had this been a huge mistake? Were they going to fry her, after all? …lock her in the basement like some criminal? Or worse—perform unconventional experiments on her?

  Running was an option—she was very good at running away. If she made a run for the woods she could probably make it. But how would she sneak past that dreadful and unsettling Mrs. Andrews? Zoey’s legs felt like cement blocks.

  She followed Agent Barnes up three flights of stairs, through a doorway on level three, and into a hallway with light gray walls and a tan polished floor. Doors lined the corri
dor on either side, and tubular chrome sconces lit the walls at intervals. Their treads resonated in the quiet hall and echoed the beating of Zoey’s heart.

  Agent Barnes stopped in front of the second door. Zoey read the inscription: Mystic Laws and Regulations, Room 3B. The muffled voices from the inside sounded like they were having an argument.

  Zoey’s insides churned.

  “What does this Agency do exactly?” she asked, her voice dry and cracking. She didn’t want to go in just yet—she needed a little bit more information first—like what tools they were going to use to torture her.

  Agent Barnes turned and looked at her.

  “The agency is a secret force that protects most major cities around the world,” he answered. “Think of us as supernatural peace keepers. Our mandate is to protect the human world from evil mystics that don’t respect the treaty. We’re charged with keeping a balance between humanity and the mystics. We patrol the borders between the two worlds.”

  Mystics, Zoey repeated in her mind. “What about this Management organization? I get that they’re probably your boss, but are they everyone’s boss?”

  “Management is our government, so to speak. Each hive is governed by a group of seven directors. And each director is in charge of a different division in the hive. Tonight you get to meet some of them. Young Sevenths don’t normally meet so many directors on the same night—you’re very lucky.”

  Zoey thought she was going to puke.

  “Don’t look so panicked. They don’t bite,” said Agent Barnes gently. “Well, maybe just director Martin…but the others seem to be fairly decent people.”

  Zoey kept her eyes low to the ground. “You don’t sound very convincing.”

  She swallowed. “What’s going to happen to me?”

  “Nothing that’s worth you fretting about like this.” Agent Barnes put his hand on Zoey’s shoulder. His voice was compassionate.