by Erin Bowman
Maybe the cat was a spy after all.
* * *
The stairs to the basement were located at the end of the western wing on the first floor, opposite the servant corridor that accessed the kitchen.
Piper took the dark, steep steps carefully, a hand gripped firmly on the banister. Her shoulder bumped something on the wall, causing it to jingle. A rack of rings, each set filled with a variety of keys—silver and gold, tarnished and dull. She carried on, eyes adjusting, until she was in the dank belly of Mallory Estate. There, she followed the chatter of buoyant voices to the laundry room. It had a low ceiling of pipes and cobwebs, and several industrial-size washers and dryers. Drying racks filled the rear of the room, where Julius was hanging delicate clothes, most of which appeared to be Sophia’s fancy blouses and skirts. Camilla and Kenji were busy folding sheets and towels and organizing them into various piles.
Piper heard a whoosh, and several sheets of bedding fell from the ceiling—through a laundry chute—and landed in a bin beside the washers.
“Ugh, but we just finished the bedding,” Camilla moaned.
“She’s being purposely mean,” Kenji grumbled. “I can’t wait until Mrs. Mallory gets back.”
“Do you guys need help?” Piper asked, stepping forward. Everyone looked up, finding her in the doorway. This was still new to Piper, getting people’s attention. It was almost unsettling. “My mother sent me to help,” she explained quickly.
Julius waved her toward the drying racks. “Where were you at breakfast?”
“Exploring the garden.”
“You thought you could find a way in on your very first attempt?” Camilla scoffed as she shook wrinkles from a shirt.
“More like, this all sounds impossible, so I poked around, and yup, still seems impossible.”
“Spoken like a true hollow,” Camilla said. “Hey, maybe that’s why your mom was so mean last night. Must be disappointing for your own kid to not have an affinity.”
“Oh, she has an affinity,” Julius said.
Piper sighed. “You guys can stop with the magi stuff now. It was a really elaborate story—I’ll give you that—but it’s getting old.”
“We’re not kidding,” Julius said. “A magi will give off a white aura, almost like a glimmer. I saw yours with my spyglass the moment you stepped out of your aunt’s car yesterday.”
All Piper could think about were the aquarium guards. See the aura around her? Even still, she heard herself saying, “Right, sure.”
“Why would we lie to you?” Julius asked. “I don’t know what we have to do to make you believe us.”
“I know,” Kenji said, and he flipped the collar of his denim jacket. He vanished in a blur of brilliant light, then reappeared right before Piper. “Teleportation. A Naoki family specialty. My jacket’s my amplifier.”
Piper gaped. It had been easy to assume Julius’s spyglass was doctored, but this? This was something else. There was no way to fake what Kenji had just done.
“Family specialty?” she asked numbly.
“Sometimes certain affinities stick within a family tree. My parents could teleport too. If they’d seen the Mack truck running the light, they’d have jumped straight out of the car and to safety. But I’m here, so clearly that didn’t happen.”
Piper had always thought that watching someone die slowly, like with her father, was the worst possible way to lose someone. But suddenly and unexpectedly, like Kenji had experienced, sounded just as terrible. The truth was there was no good way to lose someone. It was always awful.
“That sucks,” she said to Kenji.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “It does. I wish they could see this place. We lived on a busy block in West Hartford and couldn’t safely use our affinities without hollows seeing. There should be more places like Mallory Estate—communal homes for magi.”
Piper turned toward Camilla. “And you have … an affinity for cooking?” she asked.
“I wish!” The girl pulled a gold coin from her pocket—the same coin Piper had seen her move over her knuckles last night—and clenched it in her palm. When she opened her fist, the coin had become a stone. Camilla clenched and opened again. A ball of clay. Another squeeze and it was the coin again.
“You can transform things?” Piper asked, unable to take her eyes off Camilla’s palm.
Camilla grinned proudly. “Anything inanimate. Otherwise I’d transform you into another washing machine so this would all go faster.”
“Believe us now?” Julius asked.
Piper nodded, glancing between them. There was no denying it anymore: as impossible as it sounded, magi were most definitely real. There were three standing right in front of her.
“I still think you’re wrong about me having an affinity,” Piper said. “But you guys definitely have … something.”
“Affinities,” Julius corrected.
“Right.”
“Maybe you can study with us,” Kenji said hopefully. “Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings are for classes: Magi History, Concealment Studies, and Practical Application of Affinities. Tuesday and Thursday mornings we have chores.”
“Laundry, dusting, vacuuming, polishing,” Camilla said. “Real fun. There’s grounds work too. Pruning, mowing, weeding. Leaf raking in the fall. Ugh, fall’s the worst.”
“And afternoons are for trying to access the garden,” Julius said. “ ‘Garden duty,’ Mrs. Peavey calls it.”
“We’ve tried everything,” Camilla added. “I’ve manipulated the statues to match the versions Julius sees through his spyglass. Kenji has teleported from the patio onto every square inch of the garden, hoping to trigger a doorway. Julius has walked the place, looking for hints with his spyglass. We’ve tried all this stuff together, individually, in different orders, and nothing happens.”
Julius said, “Four magi and we’re completely useless.”
Piper paused. “There’s only three of you.”
The room grew quiet. Julius and Camilla exchanged worried glances.
“There were four of us,” Kenji squeaked out. Julius glared. “What? She was gonna find out eventually.”
“What’s going on?” Piper demanded.
Julius bit his bottom lip but nodded at Kenji.
“Theodore Leblanc,” the boy announced. “His affinity was time bending, he was my best friend, and he’s been missing for ten days.”
“What happened to him?” Piper asked.
Julius shrugged. “No one knows. I was the last person to see him. The night before he disappeared, he told me he thought he’d figured out a way into the garden. The next morning he was gone. Never showed up for breakfast. Never showed up for anything again.”
“So he found a way in?”
“Maybe. I think he got in and then got trapped there—or worse.”
“I think he was full of it and he’s just off with Mrs. Mallory,” offered Camilla.
“I think he found the way in and told Mrs. Peavey and Mrs. Mallory, and then they killed him,” Kenji said dramatically.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Julius snapped. “They want us to get into the garden. Why would they kill him for figuring it out?”
“ ’Cause they thought they could get in too, doing whatever he did,” Kenji said. “But they couldn’t. It didn’t work for them. ’Cause only a kid can enter the hidden garden.” He said this last part very theatrically, eyes practically flashing as they locked with Piper’s.
“Kenji has this theory that adults can’t unlock the garden,” Julius said with an eye roll. “That only an ‘innocent, uncorrupted’ child can get in.” He put air quotes around innocent and uncorrupted.
“Kenji, you are the least innocent person I know.” Camilla flung a finger at him. “You made us all ice cream cones filled with mayo on April Fool’s. You’re evil.”
“Just think about it,” Kenji countered, waving Camilla off. “Why else would Mrs. Mallory spend all this time teaching us how to use our affinities?”
&n
bsp; “To help her get the elixir just as the current members of the High Order of Magi asked her to,” Julius said. “We know this already.”
“Sure, but Mrs. Peavey has never spent a day with her own daughter”—Kenji glanced at Piper—“and we’re supposed to keep believing that she’ll adopt us if we succeed?” He shook his head. “Plus, Mallory and Peavey are more powerful than us. They’ve been magi for far longer. The truth is they can’t get into the garden, period. Not even if they know how. They need us to do it.”
“Then why would they have killed Teddy?” Camilla said, exasperated.
“Well, they didn’t know how much they truly needed him until after they …” Kenji stuck his tongue out and drew a finger across his neck.
Camilla made a gagging noise. “You’ve watched too many horror movies, Kenji. I’m sure Teddy is fine. Mrs. Mallory probably took him on her errand and forgot to tell everyone.”
“A time-bending errand?” Kenji asked skeptically.
“Yeah. Why not?”
“Because Teddy disappeared two days before Mrs. Mallory left!”
“Mrs. Peavey said she was looking into it,” Julius interjected. “We just have to wait and be patient.”
“I don’t trust anything she says right now,” Kenji said. “She’s not herself. Something’s up.”
“I’m telling you: Teddy got into the garden and something happened to him in there,” Julius concluded matter-of-factly. “It explains why Mrs. Peavey can’t find him. And Mrs. Mallory always said there would be tests once you got inside, puzzles or enchantments that you’d have to beat to get to the elixir. Teddy probably didn’t beat them. Which is exactly why we need to keep working together, just like we promised we would. Any progress gets shared with the group immediately. If we find a way in, we go in together. We tackle any test together. Then we all get adopted. That’s what we agreed on. What happened to Teddy might be his own fault—especially if he moved forward without us.”
Camilla nodded adamantly, but Kenji fiddled with his jacket’s cuff. This was his best friend who was missing.
“So, Piper, what do you think?” Julius asked. “Are you with us?”
But all Piper could think about was what this whole thing meant: Magi were real. Affinities were real. Teddy had likely accessed the garden—the real, live version she’d seen in Julius’s spyglass—and if this magical version of the garden was real, it meant the elixir of immortality was real too.
Hidden somewhere on the grounds of Mallory Estate, there was a drink that could save her father.
Chapter Eight The Shimmering Doorway
That evening Piper found herself back in the kitchen, but this time, she got to see the children at work. Julius chopped and measured ingredients while Kenji worked diligently at the stovetop, keeping pots boiling or simmering at precisely the right levels. Everyone had a task, and for Piper, it was peeling carrots. All the while, Camilla ping-ponged around the kitchen, sampling sauces and stirring pots as she shouted out instructions. It was organized chaos.
The children ate when they could, shoveling down each course in the kitchen while Sophia dined on hers in the other room. When Sophia was done eating, she discarded her napkin and left without so much as a thank-you. Did she know that Piper was back here in the kitchen with the other children, falling in line and following orders? Did she even care?
“Wait! Magi Studies!” Piper shouted as she burst into the hall and ran after her mother.
“I’m sorry?” Sophia asked, turning to face her.
“Studies, training, whatever you call it. There’s a class tomorrow, right?”
“Concealment Studies is on Wednesdays, yes,” her mother confirmed.
“Where do you meet? What time? I want to come.”
“Do you have an affinity?”
“Well, no.”
“Then it would be a waste of my time, training a hollow,” Sophia said. “Don’t you agree?”
“But—I just—Julius said …”
It was no use. Sophia was already walking away, the Persian sauntering just a few steps behind.
Piper stormed back to the kitchen, fuming. “She is the worst!”
Julius looked up from where he was washing dishes, and Kenji teleported into view with another stack of dirty plates. Camilla flung a towel at Piper so she could help dry.
“She won’t let me study with you guys,” Piper explained. “Not unless I have an affinity. And I know you insist I have one, Julius, but it hasn’t presented itself in twelve years, so I doubt it’s going to anytime soon.”
“Maybe you can find your affinity on your own,” Kenji offered.
“It’s still crappy that your mom won’t help,” Camilla said. “Mrs. Mallory helped Julius pinpoint his—and she helped all of us strengthen our affinities, even if we already knew it when we arrived. Since Mrs. Mallory’s not here, those jobs should fall to your mom.”
Piper wasn’t sure where this small dose of kindness was coming from, but she appreciated it.
“I can try to help,” Julius said. “I remember the bulk of what Mrs. Mallory said when we …” He froze.
The Persian had backtracked to the kitchen and was sitting near the fridge. Its head was cocked to the side, an ear turned deliberately toward the conversation. It noticed the kids watching and blinked calmly, then turned its attention to cleaning its paws.
“Let’s talk about this later,” Julius suggested. Even as he said it, it seemed silly. It was just a cat. But Piper found the hairs on the back of her neck rising.
“Yeah, sure,” she agreed, eyeing the cat suspiciously.
They finished the rest of the dishes in silence.
* * *
When the sun had set and the stars had begun emerging, Piper slid from her bed. She tiptoed to the door, cracked it open, and peered into the hall. The Persian was waiting near the landing. Its ear perked up; Piper closed the door before the animal could whip its head around and find her.
She paced the room, panicked. What the heck was she going to do? How was she supposed to talk to Julius if the cat was always shadowing her? She picked up her phone again, praying for service even when she knew she wouldn’t find it.
How was her father doing? Was Aunt Eva trying to send updates? No, it wasn’t the weekend yet, but even then, would Piper receive them? She’d never thought she’d want to see her grandmother so badly.
Piper came to a standstill before the balcony. To her left, the bookshelf remained mostly empty, save for the few books Piper had unpacked from her duffel and set on the shelves. Beside the bookshelf was a door.
Piper frowned at it. She hadn’t noticed this before. The trim was painted the same pale blue shade as the wall, and the doorknob hardware also seemed to have been picked to be overlooked.
Julius’s room was next to hers, Piper realized. On the other side of this door.
She made a fist and knocked softly, just in case the Persian was listening.
The door cracked open. Julius’s face peered through.
“The Persian was in the hall,” Piper whispered. “And it’s past curfew. I thought it might get my mom if I—”
Julius grabbed her wrist and hauled her into his room. It was identical to hers in layout, only it looked lived-in. Clothes were scattered over the floor, and several dresser drawers yawned open. The bookshelf was stocked full with reading material.
“No, that’s smart,” Julius whispered back. It seemed to go without saying that whispering was the only way to discuss things past curfew. “You should always use the shared door at night. Just knock first. For obvious reasons.”
Piper blushed at the realization that her room was connected to a boy’s and either of them could barge into the other’s room at any moment, unannounced. “But I did knock,” she managed to say.
“Yeah, and I’m grateful for it. Teddy was always forgetting.” Julius’s face fell. “He used to have your room.”
“Oh,” Piper said. She wasn’t sure how she felt about li
ving in the room of a possibly dead and most definitely missing boy. “What happened to all his things?”
“Your mother boxed everything up.”
Because Teddy was gone and wouldn’t be coming back? Or because her mother was behind his disappearance and wanted to bury any evidence of him as quickly as possible? Both were awful to think about.
“So earlier, in the kitchen,” Piper began. “How did my grandma help you find your affinity?”
“You need to make a list of anomalies you’ve experienced,” Julius explained. “Things that looked funny. Events that felt unnatural. Moments of déjà vu. That’s what Mrs. Mallory had me do when I first arrived. A friend of hers helped place me here when he realized I was a magi. I’d been bouncing between foster homes, mostly around Waterbury, and him spotting my aura was the best thing; Mrs. Mallory looked at my list and pinpointed my affinity on the second guess. From there, we picked out an amplifier.”
Piper thought again about that odd day at the aquarium, and how her classmates often didn’t acknowledge her, and how the hospital staff always avoided eye contact. How even her own mother had seemed surprised by Piper’s presence that day they played peekaboo in her closet.
Feeling somewhat silly, Piper shared these moments with Julius, leaving out only the hospital because she didn’t want to get into that with him yet.
“The aquarium is self-explanatory,” he said when she finished.
“It is?”
“Yes, the men were magi hunters. Their binoculars were probably like my spyglass, an amplifier of sight. Mrs. Mallory says there are bad magi out there who are desperate to find hidden artifacts like the elixir of immortality, and they’ll pay hunters to bring them magi children. Children who might be able to help them locate magi artifacts.”
“And by ‘bring’ you mean … kidnap?” Piper said in shock.
Julius nodded. “Most magi only have one affinity. So if a hunter is after a certain artifact and needs a certain affinity to reach it, a kid with the matching affinity is the perfect solution. The hunter gets their prize and they don’t have to share it with anyone. It’s just another reason we’re lucky to be here at Mallory Estate. Foster children with a shot at adoption, not kidnapped prisoners of some crazed artifact hunter.”
