Mystics 3-Book Collection (59 page)

“Where do you think you’re going?” said a
voice.

Z
oey froze in
mid-step and whirled around.

Araneae stepped from the shadows. His large
bulbous eyes focused on Zoey, and his mouth twitched into a
sneer.

“Thought you’d get away did you, little
girl?” he said, his voice quivering as though he’d swallowed a
harmonica. The dim light cast shadows over his abnormally large
head, making him look all the more sinister.

Zoey stepped sideways and placed the mirror
prudently on top of a plush chair. She turned and faced Araneae,
her boomerang clasped tightly in her hand.

“Yes, actually, I did.”

The man-insect laughed a sick throaty laugh.
“Well, I can promise that you and your friends will never leave
here alive and in one piece.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that.” Zoey glowered.
“We’ve been doing pretty well, considering. I’m betting on us,
Spiderman.”

She stood her ground and faced him.

Araneae’s eyes glazed over. He opened his
mouth and vomited hundreds of small black spiders. They scrambled
down his body, in and out of his clothes, and flowed onto the floor
like black water as they surged towards Zoey.

She kicked and stomped on them. They
crunched under her boots like glass. But as soon as she had killed
a few, more came. There were just too many spiders.

Jabbing pain erupted on her thigh. She
looked down. At least six spiders clung to her pants, biting and
tearing through the fabric to her flesh beneath. She scraped them
off with her boomerang.

She heard Araneae’s laugh over her own
screams.

More spiders scuttled up her legs. She could
feel them on her back, up her neck, and then down inside her shirt.
She screamed and shook her body, trying to get rid of them. She
tore off her red shirt and tossed it away. She grabbed a spider
from her back, shivered, and flung it to the ground and stomped on
it. Another wave of black spiders spilled towards her. She leaped
out of the way and crashed into a chair.

Araneae grabbed her, pulled her head back
violently by her hair, and shoved her into the wall. She crumbled
to the ground, and five spiders latched themselves onto her face.
The gangly limbs of the spiders were crawling all over her. She
screamed louder than before. They bit and tore at the flesh on her
face. She dropped her boomerang and slapped at her face
frantically. The spiders fell, and she squished them with her
boot.

She spun and could see Araneae’s fist coming
directly towards her face. She dived and rolled before it hit
her.

Araneae’s eyes widened, and he hissed at
her.

She caught sight of her boomerang and
started forward, but Araneae kicked her in the stomach. Zoey’s legs
buckled slightly, and she staggered. Her throat seared as she took
in a breath. She was thrown into the air again, crashed against the
wall, and toppled over a table. Glass and silverware crashed down
around her. She could feel blood in her eyes. She tried to get up,
but her legs gave way beneath her, and she fell.

Tristan’s face flashed in her mind’s eye.
Was he still holding them off at the door? Were he and Simon still
alive?

“You should stay down when you know you’re
going to die. You can’t stop it now, agent.” Araneae sneered.

Zoey looked around. How could she defeat
such a creature? She had no weapon. Desperately, she searched the
room, but her boomerang was nowhere to be seen. She started to
panic. Was she going to die? She shuddered at the thought of being
eaten by thousands of ghastly spiders - it was too awful to think
about.

What could kill thousands of spiders?

“My mistress didn’t want me to play with you
before, but she’s not here now. She can’t stop me. I’m
really
going to enjoy this.”

Araneae opened his mouth and thousands more
creepy crawlies spilled down his body towards Zoey.

As Zoey backed away, her hand hit one of the
decanters. And then it came to her. She knew what to do.

A new surge of strength filled her. She
whirled around and grabbed two decanters. She staggered to her feet
and hurled the first one at the spiders on the ground. The decanter
smashed and covered the spiders in golden liquid. Then she threw
the second one at Araneae. It exploded against his chest and face,
and drenched him with liquid.

For a moment he looked surprised. He looked
down at himself and then laughed. It was all the time that she
needed.

Zoey sprinted to the fireplace and pulled
out a red-hot log with the cast-iron tongs. She whirled around and
hurled the fiery log at Araneae and the spiders.

The effect was instantaneous.

Yellow and orange flames enveloped the
spiders in a carpet of fire, and Araneae burst into flames like a
human torch. The fire leaked from his mouth and reached the spiders
on the ground, enveloping them in a carpet of fire.

Araneae staggered across the room, screaming
and flailing his arms in an attempt to put out the fire. But the
flames clung to him and grew taller and taller until he fell to his
knees and toppled over. The flames danced over his dead body.

He had been going to kill her, and she had
defended herself. He had left her no other choice. She felt
numb.

Zoey staggered towards the chair with the
mirror. She slipped it in the front of her pants and collected her
boomerang. She had to get away fast. But just as she was about to
leave, something caught her foot. She tripped and almost fell. She
turned around and gasped—Xenor’s hand was wrapped around her
ankle.

“Xenor?” How could he still be alive?

He let go of her leg. Blood oozed from the
deep wound around his neck, and his eyes were half closed, as
though it took too much effort to keep them open. His blood-stained
lips parted as if he wanted to speak, but no sound came out.

Zoey fell to her knees by him in a puddle of
his own blood.

“What? I can’t hear you. Listen, I’m going
to go and get Tristan and Simon, and then we’ll help you out of
here. I know you don’t like agents, but I promise you, we’re
angels
compared to the Alphas.”

Xenor’s eyes widened, and then he spoke very
slowly. “There…is…nothing you can…do…for me…now…”

Zoey stared at him, not knowing what to do.
“Maybe not
me
, but I’m sure there are agents who are skilled
with healing mystic injuries. They can help. Trust me. I can’t just
leave you here to die like this. You need help. You’re still
alive—”

Xenor shook his head. “Not…for long…”

“I don’t understand,” she said, “if you
don’t want my help then what do you want me to do?”

Xenor was overcome with pain and didn’t
speak for a moment. Finally, he said, “I know…where…your mother
is—”

“What?” Zoey fell forward. “Where? Where is
she? Please tell me.”

“The Nexus.”

Zoey felt like someone had just stabbed her
in the heart, and left the dagger in.

Xenor’s throat gurgled and blood poured out
of his mouth. He closed his eyes when he spoke again. “The
witch…sold her…to a group of Aneraks…They do…experiments...
That’s…all I know.”

Zoey gawked at him for a moment, forgetting
where she was. Her mother was in the Nexus? She remembered her
nightmares of being tied to a bed and surrounded by men in white
coats. What if the person tied on the bed had been her mother all
along?

It was even worse than she’d feared. Mrs.
Dupont had sold her mother to another world as if she were
livestock. She had to clench her jaw to stop from shaking. Mrs.
Dupont was going to pay for this. She didn’t know how or when—but
she would.

Zoey leaned forward. “Thank you, Xenor.
Thank you for telling me.”

He looked a little stiff. She shook him
gently. “Xenor? Xenor?”

She shook him again, but he wasn’t
breathing. She got up slowly. There was nothing she could do for
him now.

Zoey ignored her pain and charged down the
main hall as fast as her legs would take her. Her heart leaped when
she saw that Tristan and Simon were still holding the doors shut.
They were such champs.

“What took you so long?” said Simon, his
face was a nasty deep purple, and he was sweating like he’d just
stepped out of a sauna. “I thought you said you’d be
right
back...”

“I know, sorry - spiders,” she said, a
little breathlessly.

Simon frowned. “Spiders? What spiders?” He
looked on the ground as though he half expected to see some near
his feet.

“Can we talk later?” said Tristan.

His skin was losing its blue hue. His hands
slipped, and the doors opened two inches. “I’m losing my strength -
the doors are going to open.”

Simon’s eyes widened. “That’s bad. This is
bad.”

Zoey clipped her boomerang to her wrist and
pulled out the mirror. She moved in between Simon and Tristan.

“Zoey, hurry!” Tristan’s hands slipped and
several fingers pushed through the opening in the doors. Then hands
wiggled into view.

“When I say
now
,” began Zoey, “you
have to let go of the doors and grab my arms. Got it?”

“Yes,” said Tristan.

Simon looked worried. “I’ll do my best—”

“Simon!” growled Zoey.

“Yes, yes,” he agreed. “Got it.”

Zoey let out a shaky breath and forced
herself to relax. She let the images of the Hive and the feelings
of comfort from the only real home she’d ever really known take on
a life of their own. Was their Hive even still standing? Or had it
been destroyed by the hostiles? It was a chance she had to
take.

She held up the mirror, but the stress of
the situation meant that she couldn’t stop shaking. “Push the
doors, you fools!” Mrs. Dupont called from behind the door. “Push!
PUSH!”

Zoey did her best to ignore Mrs. Dupont’s
voice and focused all her thoughts on the Hive. This was their only
shot.

Something smashed into the doors from the
other side, and the three of them were pushed back, but Tristan
pushed it closed with a great final effort.

“Now, Zoey!” cried Tristan. “Do it now!
Please!”

Zoey thought of the Hive, and of Agent
Franken and his Hazmat suit. She hoped the contents in her tiny
vial would be enough for him to make an antidote. Sweat dripped
from the tip of her nose. Suddenly she felt cool, and then hot. She
watched as her reflection flickered.

“NOW!”

Tristan and Simon let go of the doors and
reached out—

The doors blasted open.

Mrs. Dupont shrieked as she lunged for
Zoey’s throat—but she missed and grabbed the air instead.

Zoey, Tristan, and Simon were already
gone.

A
gent Franken fell
off his chair with a thud. He lifted a gloved hand and pointed.

“How? How did you get in here? What sort of
uniforms are those?”

Zoey, Tristan, and Simon had landed beside
Agent Franken’s cubicle in Room One of the center of Militia and
Defense
.
Zoey rushed over to Agent Franken and helped him
up. He stared at her in amazement.

“Did you just…?” He lowered his voice. “Did
you just
mirror-port
here?”

Zoey beamed down at him. “Yes I did—we did,”
she said, and pointed to Tristan and Simon.

Agent Franken’s jaw dropped. “You mean - you
and them? Together? The three of you?”

“Yes.”

Agent Franken looked as though he might
faint. He stood still, and then his face broke into a smile.
“That’s extraordinary! You were able to manipulate and create
gateways with your own mind. And you mirror-ported
others
with you. Astonishing! ”

Simon and Tristan laughed, and Zoey looked
embarrassed. She pulled out the small glass vial and handed it to
Agent Franken.

“This is the sample you needed. It’s from
the original source.”

Agent Franken held the vial between two
gloved fingers. He lifted it to the light. “Yes, this looks like
the same black oil. How did you manage to get it?”

Zoey exhaled loudly. “That’s a long
story.”

His eyes were red, and he looked tired. He’d
aged ten years since she’d last seen him.

Suddenly, the walls cracked, and plaster and
dust fell from the ceiling. Even through the soundproof walls, they
could hear the sound of guns being fired.

“That sounded like a bomb,” said Simon.

“Agent Franken, are we too late?” asked
Zoey, fearfully.

Agent Franken pursed his lips. “I’m not
sure. Things are pretty bad all over the world. The Agencies in
Germany, India, Japan, and Australia have fallen into hostile
hands. It’s a miracle ours is still standing - so far.”

He looked at the vial. “If I can produce an
antidote with this - you’ll have done a great deed for
humanity.”

“How long will it take?” asked Tristan. “I
mean, how long do we have until the borders and mirrors are back
on?”

Agent Franken swayed his head from side to
side. “If I can concentrate without interruption, an hour maybe,
perhaps two.”

He looked at them. “You three might want to
stay here. It’s safer in here than out there.”

Another bomb exploded somewhere on the upper
levels. The room shook, and two light fixtures snapped and crashed
on the floor.

“Thank you, Agent Franken. But I think we
should be out there with the rest of them,” said Zoey. “We can
still help while you work on the cure. We’ve been gone long enough,
and I’m sure they’re wondering what happened to us.”

“They might even think we’re dead,” said
Simon.

Zoey watched as Agent Franken began working
on his cure. “Maybe. All the more reason to get out there and show
them that we’re
not
dead.”