Midnight Reynolds and the Agency of Spectral Protection

by Catherine Holt

  But all Midnight cared about was the spectral energy.

  On its own, spectral energy was harmless.

  Just thousands of tiny rainbow-colored snowflakes that floated and danced through the air as they made their way to their final resting place, the Afterglow. The reason there was so much spectral energy in Berry was because the entire town was surrounded by a large ripple of electromagnetic current known as the Black Stream, which acted like a doorway to the Afterglow.

  However, the downside of the Black Stream was that spectral energy could become trapped in inanimate objects, particularly glass, copper, and brass. When this happened, it became a dark force, known as planodiume.

  And no one knew better than Midnight just how dangerous planodiume could be. It was like a disease that infected those around it with dangerous thoughts, encouraging them to commit horrific crimes. It could also be harnessed and used as a source of power or immortality.

  Her old mentor-turned-nemesis, Miss Appleby, had used it for years to stop herself from aging. But in the process, it had turned her into a murderer—someone who’d happily poisoned both her husband and her stepdaughter, George and Eliza Irongate. Miss Appleby had also tried to kill Midnight and Tabitha.

  In other words, planodiume was bad, and it was Midnight’s job to release it before it could cause trouble.

  She swallowed hard as the black fog spread across the room, weaving in and out of the oblivious crowd.

  “Is it coming from where Sweet Wednesday was?” Tabitha’s face tightened. Clearly, she was frustrated that she couldn’t see what Midnight could.

  Midnight shook her head. “No, but whatever it’s trapped in, it’s built up very quickly. I’ve never seen anything like it. The question is, do I try to release it now, or should I wait until after school when there aren’t so many people around?”

  People that she knew. People like Logan.

  Page eight of the ASP guidebook came to mind:

  Raising civilian suspicion should be avoided at all costs. Our best work is done in the shadows, because trying to explain a phenomenon to those who can’t actively see it normally backfires. (Please see chapters nine and ten for documented examples.)

  “I think you should wait. For starters, we don’t know if it’s connected to what just happened. If it is, it could be different than everything else you’ve dealt with,” Tabitha said, just as Mrs. Peyton gave a sharp whistle and raised her hand in the air to signal their attention. Everyone automatically lifted their own hands to show they were listening.

  “Students. In order to let the police do their jobs, we need to move quickly and quietly back into the foyer. There, we will line up and walk through the X-ray scanner the security guards are setting up. This is protocol when anything has been stolen. Once that’s done, we can return to school, and the police will take statements there.”

  Midnight froze. “Did she just say X-ray scanner?”

  “Why? Don’t tell me you stole something while you were here,” Tabitha said.

  “Not exactly,” Midnight confessed as she held up her backpack. She unzipped it just enough for Tabitha to see what looked like a ray gun, nestled next to Midnight’s notepad. It had a gleaming wooden handle, a thick copper barrel covered in tubes and dials, and a long nozzle with a glass canister that ran along the top.

  “You brought CARA with you?” Tabitha’s voice hit a high note, and a couple of heads turned around, but Tabitha shot them her deadpan glare and they quickly turned away. “I thought we’d discussed this. No bringing weapons to school. Or the museum.”

  “I know.” Midnight zipped up her backpack and pretended it didn’t weigh a ton. The device was a carbonic resonator, used to stop spectral energy from getting trapped in inanimate objects. But “carbonic resonator” was a mouthful, so they’d quickly nicknamed it CARA. Midnight let out a miserable sigh. “If they find it on me, life as we know it will be over. I’ll be the crazy girl who got caught with a weapon at the museum.”

  More to the point, her cover with the Agency of Spectral Protection would be totally blown. Not to mention the subclause that clearly stated:

  All agency weapons must be hidden from public view. At. All. Times.

  “And if you get caught sneaking around the museum releasing spectral energy that no one but you can see, life will also be over.” Tabitha’s brow furrowed. “I’m starting to see why you didn’t want the different parts of your life to cross over.”

  “This definitely wasn’t on today’s to-do list. I’ll have to find and release the spectral energy, and then hide CARA until tomorrow.” Another wave of hideous darkness crashed through the room like an incoming tide.

  “As far as plans go, it’s not ideal. We don’t even know what we’re dealing with.” Tabitha’s face went pale as two police officers walked into the room, bringing the chilly weather with them. Over to the left, Mrs. Peyton was still trying to round everyone up, while simultaneously answering her cell phone.

  “I know.” Midnight gulped. “But I can’t see any other option.”

  “Okay.” Tabitha gave a decisive nod of her head. “You’d better go while it’s crazy. If Mrs. Peyton asks, I’ll say you went to the restroom. And keep your cell phone nearby. I’ll text Peter and tell him about the melting gold, in case he knows something.”

  Midnight fingers tightened around her backpack. She hunched her shoulders and casually wandered over to the drinking fountain as if getting some water, before slipping out of the room.

  The museum’s foyer was just as frantic as the main room. The large wooden doors were shut, and there were two officers standing guard in front of them. Thankfully, they seemed focused on keeping people from leaving and didn’t pay attention to a twelve-year-old girl with a heavy backpack slipping into the cafeteria.

  The cafeteria was filled with spectral energy, but there was no sign of the real source. And without the source, Midnight was powerless to stop it. She ducked behind a post as a couple of museum workers went past. Once they’d gone, she calmed herself down and tuned in to the high-pitched buzz that was still throbbing in her ears.

  She followed it up to the second floor and over to a corridor with a NO ADMITTANCE sign hanging on the wall. Midnight paused. She didn’t want to get into trouble for sneaking into another part of the museum. But it would be worse if people were exposed to planodiume for too long. The history of the town was peppered with traumatic events that had been caused by the very same thing—from a mining explosion in the late 1800s to a fire that destroyed an orphanage, leaving forty kids dead.

  Long fingers of darkness snaked around Midnight’s body, hissing in her ear. She increased her pace until she reached a storeroom.

  Midnight tugged at the door as spectral energy oozed out from underneath it, but the door was locked. She’d had to deal with spectral energy from behind a locked door before, but this time she didn’t know what she was facing, which made it risky. Plus, she still needed to hide CARA somewhere. She hurried back down the corridor and spotted a cleaning cart filled with spray bottles and cloths.

  Please let there be a key.

  She tried to act casual, even though her heart was pumping. On top of the cart was a cleaning roster, some trash that had been picked up…and a swipe card. She reached out for it and darted back to the room. As she swiped the card, the lock beeped and a red light flashed.

  She stepped inside. The room was about the size of her bedroom, with one small window that let her see the gloomy, rain-soaked sky.

  Old museum displays were scattered haphazardly around the floor, and several potted plants lay wilted and dead. Midnight shivered. It took a lot of trapped spectral energy to kill plants. She hoped that they’d only died because someone had forgotten to water them. She scanned the room until she came to a huge gilt-framed mirror propped against the wall.

  Spectral energy billowed out of it, and a putrid smell filled her nostrils.

  Midnight gagged as she fumbled with her backpack to pull CARA out. />
  Some of her panic lessened as her fingers slid over the weapon’s familiar brass trigger. The sooner she did this, the safer everyone would be.

  She pressed down, and a rush of white light burst out of CARA, hurtling directly into the mirror. The mirror shook with anger, and the swirling black fog pulsed in response as a blurred face flickered on the mirror, like a trapped reflection.

  Fear jabbed at her ribs, but Midnight held CARA steady.

  The face disappeared, and the terrible dark energy that had been scattered around the museum was drawn back into the room, seeping under the doorway and slithering toward the old mirror.

  The energy swirled around the room like a tornado, as if trying to fight what was happening. CARA let out a final shudder as the darkness vanished, replaced by pale-pink light that flooded the room before finally disappearing from sight.

  It was over—whatever it had been.

  Normally when Midnight released spectral energy, it would separate and turn back into its natural snowflake-like form. But nothing about this had been normal. From the face in the mirror to the hideous smell, or the way the dark energy had slithered back into the mirror.

  Midnight’s shoulders sagged as she took out the handheld device that ASP had issued her. It measured room temperature, gas buildup, and a list of other things that Midnight didn’t quite understand. Thankfully, it also looked like a cell phone, which meant that if anyone found it, it wouldn’t arouse suspicion.

  The device whirled and lights flashed as she walked around the room as she’d been taught. A sharp beep let her know the readings were complete. She put the device away and started searching for somewhere to hide CARA—which, unfortunately, did not look like a cell phone.

  A large trunk under the window was filled with posters from past exhibitions. Midnight laid the weapon down and then covered it up as best she could, remembering page eight of the handbook:

  Under no circumstances should equipment be left unsupervised.

  She shut the trunk and pocketed the swipe card. Once she’d retrieved CARA, she’d return the card. Then she headed back downstairs and rejoined her class as they lined up in front of the X-ray machine. The good news was that there was no sign of spectral energy.

  Midnight wove her way through the crowd until she reached her friend.

  “How did it go?” Tabitha asked, her voice not much above a whisper. “Did you find it?”

  “It was behind a locked door. I had to steal a swipe card,” Midnight said as they shuffled forward.

  Tabitha widened her eyes. “Wow.”

  “I know,” Midnight said. “But it does clearly state in the handbook that sometimes the greater good outweighs smaller considerations.”

  “Hey, I’m not judging,” Tabitha said. “So, where was it?”

  “It was in a mirror in an old storeroom, which meant I could get to it without being seen. I’ve also hidden CARA in a trunk up there.” All around her, kids were discussing what had happened, oblivious to the danger they’d just been in. Midnight’s arms shook from the exertion.

  “But?” Tabitha said as if sensing there was something Midnight wasn’t telling her. “I take it this wasn’t a textbook case.”

  “Not exactly. There was a face in the mirror,” Midnight said. Despite what people normally thought of ghosts, the only face Midnight had ever seen was that of twelve-year-old Eliza Irongate, who had been murdered by her stepmother, Miss Appleby. And even then, Midnight had only seen it for the briefest of moments.

  “What?” Tabitha squeaked. “Like a human face?”

  “I think so, though it was so blurry and it happened so quickly that it was hard to tell. Plus, there was a really bad smell. Like vomit bad. Have you heard from Peter?”

  “No.” Tabitha shook her head as they reached the front of the line. Midnight put her backpack on the scanner and watched as it went through the X-ray. Two guards studied the monitor before nodding their heads in approval.

  “Next.” The guard thrust her backpack at her and gestured for Tabitha to put hers through the machine. The good news was that Midnight hadn’t been caught. The bad news was that she had absolutely no idea what had caused the strange spectral energy or the creepy face in the mirror. Or, how it related to the melted gold. All she knew was that it was something bad, and that she hoped it didn’t get worse before she figured out what was going on.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Her mom looked up from her sewing machine as Midnight walked into the kitchen. It was a big, open room with a long, scrubbed pine table that tended to be the hub of the house. Against one wall was a huge old-fashioned cabinet piled high with plates and glasses and heavy silver cutlery, while pots of herbs grew in old wooden boxes all around the room.

  Midnight was pleased to finally be home. Between giving a police statement and being warned again by Mrs. Peyton not to spread the story of the disappearing nugget, it had been a long afternoon. She sat down at the table and reached for an apple.

  “How was school?” her mom asked.

  Let’s see. A massive lump of gold melted away. I got asked on a date. Oh, and there was planodiume at the museum. Unfortunately, none of those answers would let her escape to her bedroom. All she wanted was to talk to Peter about the report she’d filed.

  “It was okay.” Midnight took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes.

  “So, were you there when the gold disappeared?” Phil looked up from the leather breastplate he’d been polishing.

  Midnight turned toward him. “How do you know about it?”

  When her mom had first announced she was going to marry Phil, Midnight hadn’t been very happy. All he seemed to talk about were Vikings and how to fix cars. But after he’d inadvertently helped her stop Miss Appleby (without asking any questions), she’d warmed to him. Plus, there was no doubt her mom was happier when he was around. Even if he did want to get married wearing a full Viking costume and surrounded by his fellow reenactors who went by the name Sons of a Gunnar.

  “It’s been all over the news.” Phil put aside his polishing cloth.

  “Oh,” Midnight said. So much for the museum wanting to keep the story under wraps.

  “Did it really just disappear?” her mom asked. Her blond hair fell in curls around her face, and her normally bright-blue eyes had shadows under them that seemed to get darker the closer the wedding date got.

  “More like melted,” Midnight said before relaying everything—minus the parts that involved her, of course.

  “Do they have any theories about what happened?” Phil asked just as Midnight’s sixteen-year-old sister, Taylor, flounced into the kitchen. Raindrops clung to the tiny denim jacket she was wearing, and when she shook her long hair, water hit Midnight in the face.

  “Watch it,” Midnight complained, wiping away the moisture.

  “Not my fault it’s raining,” Taylor retorted. “And please tell me you weren’t talking about that stupid piece of gold. I swear I’m going to scream if I have to listen to one more story about it.”

  “It’s a big deal,” Phil said.

  “And Midnight was there when it happened,” their mom added. “It’s hard to believe the gold really melted.”

  Taylor snorted. “That’s because it’s a hoax. Anyone with eyes can see that. Dylan says it’s all just smoke and mirrors.”

  At the mention of Dylan’s name, Midnight silently groaned, and even her mom rolled her eyes. Taylor had been dating her new boyfriend for a month, and lately every sentence that came out of her month seemed to include the words Dylan says.

  “Even if that’s the case, how it was done is still a mystery,” their mom said. “Several of the people in Midnight’s class caught it on video. Plus, the police came right after, and there was no sign of what caused the gold to melt.”

  “Well, as fascinating as this is, I need to take a shower.” Taylor gave a nonchalant shrug to suggest that they were all talking nonsense. “I’m completely drenched. This freaking weather—”


  “Actually…” Phil uncharacteristically cut in. “Maggie, I got those pickled elderberries you wanted. They’re in the living room next to the Mammen ax.”

  Mammen ax? Midnight wasn’t sure she wanted to know what that was.

  “Thank you, honey. I’ll go get them.” Her mom immediately disappeared into the other room. Phil turned to Midnight and Taylor. His brow was crinkled, and his mouth was turned down.

  “I wanted to talk to you both about the weather. Your mom’s starting to fret that it won’t clear up before the wedding. It’s a bit hard to stand on a hillside in a field of daisies and daffodils when the hill’s turned to mud. So, I was thinking it might be a good idea not to mention the rain. Instead, just focus on the fact it can’t keep raining forever.”

  “Yes, but Dylan says—” Taylor folded her arms before Midnight glared at her. “Fine. No mention of the weather.”

  “I won’t either,” Midnight promised, just as her cell phone rang with the tone she’d assigned to her boss. He lived in England but seemed to always be traveling around the world, which made it incredibly hard to get hold of him. It was also why she needed to take the call. She scrambled to her feet, mumbling something about homework, but it wasn’t until she was safely in her bedroom that she dared to answer.

  “Midnight, my apologies on the delay. I’m in Russia, dealing with an Afterglow fracture,” Peter said matter-offactly in his English accent, as if Midnight should know what an Afterglow fracture was. “I’ve just received your report and have been studying the news feeds. How unfortunate that the story’s been picked up by a few national papers.”

  “It made the papers?” Midnight winced, thinking of page thirty-one of the manual:

  One of ASP’s biggest priorities is to keep all mention of spectral energy out of the press. This cannot be emphasized enough. Please see chapter ten for case studies.