Mystics 3-Book Collection

by Kim Richardson

“Doesn’t matter,” said Zoey. “If you don’t let me do this alone, I’ll never hear the end of it. Besides, it can’t be that bad, just a few more fairies. Trust me, I can do this.”

  Zoey marched towards the large rock, brandishing her spray can before her like a gun. She tossed her bag on the ground—she was going to need all of her limbs.

  The rock was about the size of a large shed, and above it, forty fairies sat on a long strip of wires gnawing away at the power lines like famished rats. They ignored Zoey completely. She needed to get their attention somehow.

  “Hey, you there! Hey fairies!” she called. But it was as though the fairies couldn’t even hear her. They just kept eating without even a glance in her direction.

  “Hey, ugly little critters!” she tried again louder, and waved her arms.

  “Yeah, I’m talking to you! Wanna come down here and play? Hey fairies!”

  But it was as though she didn’t even exist. The fairies kept feasting, swaying back and forth on the power lines in a drunken stupor.

  So much for that, Zoey said to herself. Frustrated, she searched the ground for something to throw at them.

  And then something happened that she hadn’t expected.

  The big rock moved and opened its eyes.

  Chapter 8

  Dino-Fairy

  Zoey shrank back, transfixed.

  Under a patch of moonlight was a giant beast. The creature turned slowly towards her, raising itself on two massive legs the size of tree trunks. Its skin was gray and hairless, coarse like stone. It unfolded a pair of giant veiny wings. It was a twelve-foot tall dino-sized fairy, with talons like machetes. Sparks of blue electricity coiled around its body, and even from where she stood Zoey could smell a mixture of rotten eggs and pig manure. Its eyes were not yellow but blue, and they watched her with a mixture of hatred and wanting. It emitted a low grunt and looked at the spray can she held in her hand. Then it snarled from a mouth full of razor-sharp yellow teeth.

  Zoey held her breath.

  It lunged.

  She whipped out her spray can, but the dino-fairy knocked it out of her hand with a powerful blow that threw her into the air and landed her on the ground with a painful crunch. She managed to push herself up and turn around just in time to see a giant fist smash the ground where she had stood a second ago. She scrambled further away and turned. The dino-fairy’s eyes glowed blue as if there were flame inside. Then it stretched and grew another five feet in diameter. It smiled at the shock on Zoey’s face.

  “That’s so not fair,” said Zoey, “that’s like cheating!”

  She searched the ground for a weapon, remembering something she had read earlier at the academy about fairies. What was it again—something about how to protect oneself—but what was it? She yelled out in frustration. She couldn’t remember. Fear of the dino-fairy was clogging her memories.

  “Ich gruthic se matvis, homen,” said the fairy, in a guttural voice. It pointed to Zoey with its massive hand and then gave her a toothy grin.

  “I don’t speak Fairy,” said Zoey, wishing that she could understand it so that she could talk it out of killing her. “Do you speak English? Does the fact that you’re not answering mean no? If we could just have a normal conversation, I’m sure we would all laugh about this later.”

  The dino-fairy kept grinning. And then she thought of something and raised her hands.

  “I won’t harm you, I promise. How about we call this quits, and you can join your furry friends. Truce?”

  She was hoping it was a stupid mystic, and that it hadn’t noticed that her bag was full of its frozen kin.

  The fairy frowned and made a fist with its massive hand and then pointed to her bag. “Ich tactuc se vitan, homen!” growled the creature.

  Zoey swallowed back her fear.

  “Okay, so you saw the bag. Guess you’re not as stupid as you look. Now what?”

  She didn’t have to understand its language to know that it meant to kill her. Just one blow from the dino-fairy’s powerful fists, and she would be nothing more than a pile of red jelly. She watched the large fairy carefully.

  “And now you’re drooling. Well, that’s just great. You want to eat me too. Before or after you kill me?”

  With a beat of its wings, the dino-fairy crouched down, and using its weight as momentum it pushed itself in the air, hovered for a moment, beating its wings furiously—and then fell back down.

  It was too heavy to fly.

  “Guess you should have stayed on that diet, huh?” said Zoey, and then regretted saying it as soon as the words escaped her mouth.

  The dino-fairy beat the air in a rage.

  “Toi homen!” it said, and then the ground shook as the fairy charged at her like a mad rhinoceros.

  Knowing the odds were against her, Zoey stood still until the very last second—and faked to the left. The dino-fairy stormed past her, too heavy, and with too much momentum to stop suddenly. Zoey ran in the opposite direction. She raced across the field and prayed that she wouldn’t trip in the semi-darkness. The dino-fairy galloped behind her like an earthquake. She could almost feel the beast’s warm rancid breath on the back of her neck.

  Something pulled at the back of her shirt. Her feet left the ground, and she soared through the air and crashed into a wood fence. She gasped for air as she struggled to get on her feet, but she tripped over her own legs and fell flat on her face in the mud. Her legs were tangled in wires from the fence. They wrapped around her legs like metal cobwebs. She was trapped.

  “Ich tactuc se vitan, homen!”

  Zoey turned her head.

  The dino-fairy stood in front of her with its fists clenched, and an ugly satisfied smile on its face.

  Zoey held its gaze without blinking. She wasn’t about to let herself become a fairy’s midnight snack. She struggled with the wires around her wet muddy legs.

  Green drool dripped from the corners of the dino-fairy’s mouth like melted cheese. It was only two feet away from her now, and its warm rancid breath was choking her, like hands wrapped tightly around her neck.

  A wet laugh escaped from its throat—it was going to enjoy ripping her to shreds.

  Tristan and Simon called out to her, but she couldn’t see them. They were too far away. It was too late. They would never reach her in time.

  The giant fairy reached out and grabbed Zoey by the throat. It lifted her so savagely that the force ripped away the tangled wires around her legs, cutting through her skin like hot knives. The searing pain blinded her for a moment. She felt blood seeping down her legs, but she couldn’t even cry out—she couldn’t breathe. Then the creature’s grip around her throat lessened, and it threw her down against the ground.

  Zoey took dry grasps of air into her lungs, coughing as the tears rolled down her face. The blood pounded in her ears, and her heart hammered in her chest as though she had just run a marathon. Her lips quivered as she took another shaky breath. She had almost died.

  The fairy smiled and laughed at her broken frame, its eyes full of hatred and excitement. It wanted to play with her before the kill, like cats did with mice.

  She realized that her jeans were soaking wet with water, not with blood. She had stumbled into a stream. And then it hit her. Water was a protective agent against fairies.

  She remembered—she remembered it all.

  She gathered what strength she had left, picked herself up on shaky legs, and faced the giant beast.

  “You want me troll-breath?” she taunted, the words burning her throat. “Then come and get me.”

  With an adrenaline rush, Zoey turned and ran towards the water in a desperate last attempt to save her life. She plunged into the stream.

  She heard a loud splash behind her and turned around.

  The dino-fairy was charging at her like a bull through the water.

  Why hadn’t the water worked? Had she remembered it wrong? The blood drained from her face—her plan had failed. The last of her strength escaped her and she
halted.

  There was no more point in running anymore. She stood her ground. She would fight until the end.

  Suddenly, the dino-fairy staggered, and its expression changed to confusion and fear. It turned and tried to run, but some invisible force deep in the water caught its legs, as if it were in a bog. It howled in excruciating pain. Blue vapors steamed around its body as the water burned its skin like acid. It thrashed and wailed as its skin peeled off like thick orange rinds and exposed the pink tissue underneath.

  With a series of pops and zaps, the dino-fairy began to shrink in a haze of blue steam. The stream boiled and sizzled like a pot full of oil. And then there was nothing left of the giant creature but a little blue bubble that popped and dissipated in the stream.

  “Now that’s what I call deep-fried fairy.”

  Simon stood at the edge of the stream with his cell phone aimed at the remains of the dino-fairy. “Got it all on film,” he said proudly.

  “Too bad I can’t put this on the net, it would have gone viral in seconds—I would have been famous.”

  “Zoey! Are you all right?” Tristan jumped into the water and lifted her up as though she weighed no more than a feather.

  “You’re bleeding—and it did a real number on your throat. You’re lucky to be alive you know. I’m going to kill Stuart.”

  Zoey coughed when she tried to speak. Finally, she was able to mutter. “No. Don’t. Not worth it.” Her throat was raw, like she had just swallowed a handful of razors.

  “This isn’t over, Zoey.” Tristan’s expression darkened. “I’ve always said there was something off about him, but I never imagined that he would stoop this low.”

  The other operatives were all standing at the edge of the stream now, looking bewildered. All but one. Stuart looked like he had bitten into something sour. Even in the dark Zoey could see he was flustered and frustrated. Zoey smiled—his plan to kill her hadn’t worked after all.

  Agent Vargas came thrashing into the stream. He looked so angry that Zoey thought she could see steam rolling off the top of his head. He stood looking at the spot where the dino-fairy had melted and then gave Stuart a piercing look.

  “Why wasn’t I notified of the Nitro-fairy?” he asked furiously. “You were working the west side of the lines, Stuart. You must have seen it. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I’m sorry Agent Vargas, but I didn’t see anything, honest,” said Stuart innocently. “It’s dark, I must have missed it. My eyesight’s not the best at night—”

  “Liar!” shouted Tristan. “You knew it was there, and you dared Zoey to go—to prove that she was one of us. You tried to get her killed!”

  Stuart gave Tristan a blank expression. “It was an honest mistake. I didn’t see it. Promise.”

  “I’m disappointed in you, Stuart King,” said Agent Vargas. “It’s not like you to miss something this big.”

  He stared at Stuart for a moment before turning to Zoey.

  “Well, she surely has proven herself as a very capable operative today, if I do say so.” He gave her a smile.

  “The more electricity fairies feed on, the more powerful they become, and the bigger they grow. Once they reach the Nitro size, it’s very hard to contain them. The fellow you obliterated had probably been feeding for days before the others arrived here. He would have been a mighty opponent for an experienced agent. You’re lucky you weren’t killed. It takes a great agent to battle a Nitro-fairy, especially one that size.”

  “Guess I was lucky,” said Zoey, although she winced with the pain of her injuries.

  Agent Vargas beamed. “Agent Barnes told me you had what it takes—that you had mastered skills beyond your years. Now I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Good work, Zoey St. John.”

  “Thank you.” Zoey pressed her lips tightly together as she tried to reduce the giant smile that threatened to take over her face.

  “Everyone,” called Agent Vargas, “bag the rest of the fairies. We’re moving out.”

  As Tristan helped Zoey out of the stream, she stood back and watched as all the remaining fairies were sprayed and bagged until not one was left on the ripped and torn power lines. With their bags over their shoulders, the operatives circled around Agent Vargas.

  “Apart from a minor disruption, we managed to stay on target and on time,” said the agent. “Get your DSM’s out! Let’s leave the great outback.” He pulled out his double-sided-mirror and flipped it open with a flick of his wrist.

  Zoey was nervous about the voyage home. Would she throw up again on the other side? She pulled out her silver compact and popped it open with her finger. Even in the moonlight she could see her reflection stare back at her anxiously.

  She wondered if the stolen interloper was also a mirrored device. It would make sense if it were, since it was also used for teleportation. But maybe it was something entirely different.

  “On my mark!” announced Agent Vargas. “DSM’s ready! Into positions, nobody move. Let’s go!”

  Zoey watched as the operatives stood still, looking into their DSM’s. The operatives’ bodies started to shimmer like ghosts in a breeze until they were no more than wraithlike silhouettes. With a small pop, they disappeared one by one, like dominos. Tristan smiled at her before he disappeared.

  “Yah, hoo!” said Simon, and his ghost body rippled and was gone.

  Zoey readied herself for her turn. She tipped her DSM slightly to get all her reflection inside the mirror first. Holding her breath, she stood as still as she could.

  She didn’t see the cold blue eyes or the arm that reached out and pushed her until it was too late.

  Her reflection shifted, and she vanished.

  Chapter 9

  A DSM Malfunction

  The second time Zoey used the DSM was just as terrifying as the first.

  Her body was stretched like an elastic band, as though she had no bones and was just a bag of blood and guts. She floated as if she were swimming without water. And finally she spun dizzily, before light exploded all around her, and her feet met solid ground.

  At first, she could see only gray shapes. Slowly her vision cleared and her motion sickness lifted. She was still in once piece. She took a moment and looked around.

  She stood in a dark room, like some sort of storage unit. What light there was seeped in between heavy old curtains that hung on the only window. Tables and chairs were stacked in piles against the walls. Boxes were piled on top of one another. The air was stuffy and smelled like old socks and the musty carpets from the orphanage. Her nose itched, and she felt the sudden urge to sneeze. She had no idea where she was, but one thing was for sure, this was not the hive.

  An old mirror on carved lion’s feet stood behind her. It was round, and its silver frame was a snake chasing its tail. It looked ancient, older than any mirror she had seen back at the hive. She was sure that it was a mirror-port anchor, but why was it hidden away in a storage room? Zoey’s intuition told her that there was something very wrong with this picture. There was only one reason a mirror-port anchor would be kept hidden—to be used in secret. The question was, who was keeping it secret and why?

  Voices came from behind the walls, and her heart leaped into her throat. There was more than one voice, and they were arguing. She pocketed her DSM, tiptoed across the room and pressed her ear against the wall. It was definitely a heated discussion.

  “It will never work,” said a man’s voice angrily. “It can’t be done. It can’t.”

  “It must—and you will!” shouted a woman’s voice.

  Zoey tried to melt against the wall to hear more clearly. Most of the conversation was muffled by the walls, as the two people moved around in the next room. She heard a crash, like a chair hitting the floor. She strained to listen.

  “…now is our chance, we have the interloper,” said the woman.

  Zoey froze. She couldn’t believe what she had heard.

  The woman continued, “We will begin the necessary preparations immediately. I have
been waiting patiently for fourteen years. Now we must play our cards right. The plan has been set in motion—nothing can stop us—not even the agency.”

  Goosebumps riddled Zoey’s skin. She had heard it, clear as rain, interloper. They were arguing about something to do with the stolen interloper. And this woman had just told Zoey that she had it. Maybe she had it on her right now? What did it look like?

  Zoey knew that she should use her DSM to report back to the hive as soon as possible. Agent Vargas and her friends would be worried that she’d had a mirror-port accident, and that her parts were scattered to the ends of the world. Moreover, she wanted nothing more than to punch Stuart in the face for bumping her arm just as she had used her DSM.

  But she couldn’t bring herself to make the jump back. Something kept her where she stood—she couldn’t go just yet—she needed to know more.

  She had read enough about police work to know that she had to figure out where she was. And after that she knew that she needed to identify these people. She needed to see their faces. It wouldn’t do any good to return without proof. A quick look was all she needed. She knew that if she could do this, the agency would have no more doubts about her—she would truly belong. Better yet, if she found the interloper and brought it back

  She could see a door behind a mountain of boxes. She made for it.

  The handle was cool against her skin. She took a deep breath, pulled it open, and peered through the crack. She could see a dark passageway with rounded walls like a tunnel. A single light flickered from the ceiling. The smell of mildew was heavy, and Zoey could feel the damp against her skin as she crept inside. By the looks of the decrepit limestone walls, she was in some sort of old cellar. Water trickled down the walls. The concrete floor was cracked, and water seeped through the crevices. This was definitely horror movie material. Was this what a castle’s dungeon looked like?

  Zoey could hear the voices more clearly now. The light increased as she slowly crept towards them. Cobwebs stuck to her face. She pulled them off and wiped her hands on her jeans. As silent as a cat, she made her way forward.