Read Mystics 3-Book Collection Online

Authors: Kim Richardson

Tags: #fiction, #paranormal, #magic, #science fiction, #action adventure, #time travel, #series, #juvenile fiction, #ya, #monsters, #folklore, #childrens fiction, #fantasy fiction, #teen fiction, #portals, #fiction action adventure, #fiction fantasy, #fiction fantasy contemporary, #fiction fantasy urban life, #fiction fantasy epic, #girl adventure, #paranormal action adenture, #epic adventure fantasy, #epic adventure magical adventure mystical adventure, #paranormal action investigations

Mystics 3-Book Collection (50 page)

Moments passed and nothing happened.

She felt foolish and embarrassed for a
moment, but she shot those feelings down. Not yet. She needed more
time. It
had
to work.

She pressed on, and on, until she realized
she was holding her breath. She let it go, and relaxed a little,
letting the images of Mrs. Dupont play on their own…

Her body flickered. Her reflection shifted,
as did Simon’s and Tristan’s. It was just like using the regular
DSMs. First she felt cool, then her skin prickled, and then the
coolness became a hot, stinging pain. Her body felt like hot coal,
and she watched as their three reflections were pulled and warped.
Tristan and Simon’s grips on her tightened.

At first she was thrilled, happy that her
plan was actually working—and then the fear of the unexpected crept
in. What was waiting for them on the other side? What if their
bodies didn’t rematerialize properly and they died in the
process?

“Something’s happening! Something’s
happening!” cried Simon. His face warped abnormally, as if it were
made of Play-Doh. “My voice sounds weird! My voice sounds weird!”
And then all at once, their matter broke apart—the mirror sucked
them in like a vacuum—and they were gone.

 

 

Chapter 12
The True Nation

 

 

 

A
few seconds later
Zoey’s feet touched solid ground. The cool air forced the
grogginess from her mind, and the world came into focus around her.
The air moved behind her as Tristan and Simon appeared at her
sides. They had all survived. It took a few moments for them to get
their bearings, too.

They stood in semi-darkness in a large open
field dotted with trees. She could make out a mountain peak with a
collection of disheveled buildings at its feet. Orange lights shone
from some of the buildings. A path led up to a medieval castle that
glared down on the village from the highest point.

But what was even more intriguing was the
spectacular fifty-foot high stone wall that surrounded the village.
It was a giant stone barrier spread out for about a mile each way
and it protected the village. Zoey suspected that it had been built
to keep something out.

Frost covered the ground, and the air was
cold, but there weren’t any traces of snow like back at the Hive.
There weren’t any traces of Mrs. Dupont either. Where were
they?

“That was awesome!” Simon stretched his
limbs like an athlete.

“It actually worked! Not that I doubted you
for a second, Zoey,” he added, with a sheepish expression. “It was
even better than with the DSMs. With them, you always got that
feeling of queasiness right after, but with you—nothing!”

Tristan’s mouth was slightly open in a
what-just-happened expression, but when he looked at Zoey he
grinned. “That
was
pretty cool. It was like we were all
connected somehow and moving together.”

Simon’s grin widened. “You’re like your own
DSM—no—you
are
a DSM!”

Zoey laughed. “I’m just glad that it worked,
and we’re all still in one piece.”

She knew she had taken a real gamble
bringing them with her on an experiment. Things could have gone
terribly wrong, but somehow they didn’t. She let herself relax a
little. Her palms were sweaty, and she could feel the mirror slide
in her fingers.

“You know, Zoey,” said Tristan, “maybe you
should tell the Agency about this - I mean, when we get back. I
think your special talent could
help
them.”

Zoey glanced down at her reflection in the
mirror. “Well, I’m not so sure. You saw how fast they were to judge
me. I’d hate to think what they’d do to me if they knew I could
mirror-port on my own and bring others with me.”

“Give them a chance. I think you’ll be
surprised.”

“No one ever believes the orphan,” said
Zoey, with a pang of sadness in her chest. “Trust me. The only way
I can show the Agency that I’m on
their
side is to get that
sample and help kill the virus.”

Tristan watched her but didn’t add anything
else.

Simon leaned over to Zoey. “Hey, can I see
that for a second…?”

He grabbed the mirror from Zoey’s hands
before she could stop him. She lost her grip, Simon’s fingers
slipped, and the mirror fell to the ground and shattered.

“Oops,” said Simon, his ears turning
red.

“You idiot!” said Tristan crossly, as he
faced Simon. “Now how are we supposed to get back?”

Simon lifted his hands in surrender. “Oh
man, I’m really sorry, Zoey. It just slipped. I didn’t mean for it
to happen, I swear. I don’t suppose you packed another one?”

“No.” Zoey did her best to control her anger
and bit her tongue. She was so angry with him that she wanted to
punch him. She knelt down and picked at the broken pieces of
mirror, with a mixture of dread and anger. Even if she pieced the
mirror back together, it would never work. The link was gone.

“I’m really, really, really, really sorry,
Zoey,” said Simon. “I know I can be a total moron sometimes. I know
it, but this hits the top of the charts. I am
really
sorry.
I’m a total douchebag.”

When Zoey rose to her feet, she felt her
anger flush away. “Well, there’s no way to fix this now. It’s
broken in too many pieces and will never work again.”

“So what are we going to do?” Tristan was
still glaring at Simon, who stepped back.

Zoey looked to the village. “We need another
mirror to get back home, and the only place where we’ll find one,”
she pointed, “is in there.”

Tristan surveyed the village in the
distance. “Any ideas where we are?”

Zoey shrugged. “No, but I have a feeling
someone in that village will tell us. We mirror-ported here for a
reason. The virus originated in there somewhere—I can feel it.”

“Well, as long as you
don’t
feel the
need to
kill
me right now,” said Simon, his face a little
less flushed, “then I say we follow that path over there. It leads
directly to the village.”

The three of them crossed the field and made
it to the dirt road. Soon the fields disappeared and tall evergreen
trees rose on either side of the road, cutting out almost all the
light. The orange lights on the horizon had disappeared, and the
trees cast long eerie shadows that seemed to move in the moonlight.
The forest was cold, and twigs and frozen leaves cracked dully
under Zoey’s weight. She thought she saw shapes move among the
trees, black silhouettes, but when she looked again, they
disappeared. Her eyes were playing tricks on her. But the forest
was unnaturally quiet, like it was holding its breath. It was
almost as though the forest was
listening
to them.

“I feel like the woods have eyes,” said
Simon, as he broke the silence. “I feel like I’m being watched -
like forest things are going to come out after us any minute
now.”


Forest
things?” asked Zoey. “What
are forest things?”

“You know - tree creatures. Little trees
with big angry mouths—”

“Shut up, Simon,” said Tristan in a half
laugh. “You’re imagining things again.”

Simon tiptoed forward, in an attempt to
silence the noise from the gravel path, which wasn’t working. “No
man, I
swear
, something’s watching us in the forest. Do you
think there’re werewolves here? ’Cause I forgot to pack my silver
bullets.”

“You also forgot to pack your meds,” said
Tristan.

“Shh, listen,” said Zoey suddenly. Another
shadow moved in the trees. There was something out there, watching
them. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Her skin bristled
in tiny bumps.

“I think Simon’s right—”

A shrill cry pierced the night air.

“What was that?” Simon pulled out his
slingshot. “Did you guys hear that? That wasn’t human. Where did it
come from? It’s the tree creatures!”

He armed his slingshot with a silver
bead.

Zoey strained to listen, but she couldn’t
hear anything but the beating of her own heart. Even though there
was silence, her gut told her something was lingering in the
forest.

Another similar cry echoed. Zoey held her
breath. But this one was different - it was almost as if it was
answering
the other call.

“I knew it! That was a werewolf cry,” said
Simon, the whites of his eyes showing. “There are werewolves in the
forest. They want to
turn
us!”

“It wasn’t a howl, so I don’t think it was a
werewolf. But you’re right about one thing,” said Zoey, searching
through the trees, “that was definitely
not
a human
cry.”

“Let’s keep moving.” Tristan brandished his
dagger. “The village’s not too far away now. We can make it on time
if we just keep moving.”

Remembering her experience with the
Grohemoths in the swamps, Zoey grabbed her boomerang and gripped it
firmly in her hand. She didn’t trust the forest. It was dense and
dark, the perfect place for evil to hide. She looked up into the
sky. Soon they would be in complete darkness, a very bad situation
if there were to be a fight.

“I hate dark, evil-looking forests,” said
Simon, “The serial killer always lurks in the spooky forest.
Everyone knows that. And the skinny, stupid-looking guy
always
dies first.”

“This isn’t a movie,” said Tristan. “No one
is going to die.”

Simon ignored him. “This is
exactly
like one of the Friday 13
th
movies. Jason is out
there…he’s coming…he’s coming for me!”

“Shut up, Simon—”

Snap
. A twig broke to their left.

“It’s Jason!”

Zoey’s heart drummed in her ears. She
searched for the spot where she had heard the sound, but she
couldn’t see anything other than the thick forest.

Another twig snapped.

Zoey whirled around to her right, just in
time to see the shadow of a creature jump from one tree to the next
in a flash. Whatever this was, there were a lot of them, and they
were fast. She strained into the forest again, but she couldn’t see
anything.

“Stick together,” said Tristan. He moved
closer to Zoey and Simon until the three of them had their backs
together. With their weapons drawn, they faced the invisible
threat.

Something caught Zoey’s eye, and she turned
just as the creature flew at her.

And then all at once—they attacked from both
sides of the road. Black shapes leaped from the trees and came down
at them with a vengeance.

There were screams, yells and cries, and
suddenly everyone was moving. Zoey flew forward and fell to her
knees as something heavy latched itself onto her back. White-hot
pain exploded in her back, like burning knives slashing into her
skin. Warm blood trickled down her back.

She reached up behind in an attempt to pull
off whatever had attached itself to her. Her fingers found fur. She
grabbed hold and pulled. She screamed in pain. The more she pulled,
the more the thing cut her. Her eyes burned, and she choked from a
heavy ammonia smell coming from her attacker. She staggered to her
feet, stumbled back, and tried in vain to stop whatever the
creature was slicing into her back.

For a split second, she looked up and saw
what it was.

Simon and Tristan had them, too.

Monkeys.

They were the ugliest monkeys she’d ever
seen. The size of a medium-sized dog with unusually large heads,
they were covered in thick, black fur. Their mouths were large,
with rows of pointy teeth like the mouth of a piranha, and they had
long, hairless tails, like snakes. She had a monkey on her back,
and it was trying to kill her.

Suddenly, something wrapped itself around
her neck, choking her. Its grip tightened as it tried to squeeze
the life out of her. Zoey couldn’t breathe and dropped her
boomerang. She felt the blood rush to her face, as she gasped for
breath. She gagged, desperate for air. And then she couldn’t feel
the pain in her back anymore. Dizziness clouded her mind as she
began to suffocate. She could feel its hot breath on the back of
her neck and hear its excited gurgling. It wanted her to die.

Something snapped and her adrenaline kicked
her into overdrive. Her instincts kicked in. She staggered forward
and flung herself backwards against the nearest tree. The grip
lessened. With every bit of strength left, she threw herself
against the tree, over and over again, until she finally felt a
weight lift off her. Her throat cleared, and she inhaled deep,
burning breaths.

She looked down at her attacker. The monkey
lay in a pile of leaves. Its red eyes were open and staring at the
sky. It didn’t move.

Shouts and screams reached her ears. Simon’s
face had turned a nasty shade of purple as two monkeys tore, bit,
and slashed at him. One of them had its tail wrapped around his
neck. With her back screaming in pain, Zoey rushed to his aid. But
just as she reached Simon, something attached itself to her side
and dug its talons into her flesh. The thing snarled, baring its
large pointy teeth. Just as it was about to make a meal out of her
stomach, Zoey curled her fingers into a fist and punched it hard on
the nose.

The monkey shook its head. Then she
backhanded it with a brutal blow, and the creature let go and fell
to the ground. She kicked it out of the way and ran to Simon.

Without stopping, she went for the monkey
that had wrapped its tail around Simon’s neck. She grabbed a large
rock and beat the beast’s head with it. Simon’s eyes had rolled
into the back of his head. She couldn’t let Simon die. She raised
her arm and hit it again with the rock. She heard a satisfying
crunch, and the monkey dropped. Zoey quickly untangled its tail
from Simon’s neck.

Something moved in her peripheral vision.
Another monkey lunged at her, and its teeth bore into her shoulder.
But she reached down, grabbed her rock, and smashed it against its
head. It stumbled backwards. The creature gurgled in astonishment,
and before it had a chance to attack again Zoey slashed the sharp
end of the rock across the monkey’s throat. It fell back, dead.

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