Mystics 3-Book Collection (63 page)

“There goes Scotty,” said Kirk.

Just as Zoey was about to comment, another
explosion shook the ground, and a second craft lay smoking in the
snow.

“Oh dear,” said Kirk as he watched the
driver scramble out of the cab and run for cover.

Zoey’s heart sunk. Their chance of winning
the battle lay in a crumpled mess in the snow. Kirk’s mystic cab
was no match for the Alphas.

She looked around. The few remaining agents
and mystics had defeat written all over their faces. They had
already accepted their fate. Mrs. Dupont had won. She was going to
execute all of them…

Mrs. Dupont clapped her hands, her eyes
wide. She raised her voice. “Thought you could defeat us with these
miserable flying machines?” she laughed, “It’s over. You’re
finished. And I’m going to take great pleasure in watching you die.
Kill them all. Death to them all—”

But her triumphant smile quickly faded into
an ugly sneer when hundreds of agents and mystics shouting battle
cries charged out of the front entrance to the Hive.

From where she stood, Zoey could see the
shimmer of the mirrors in the main hall as agents and mystics
poured out of them. The mirror-ports shone as their green lights
flicked on. Agent Franken stood with his hands on his hips and a
self-satisfied smile on his face. The antidote had worked.

Zoey stood back and watched.

Within minutes, the remaining Alphas had
been captured and shackled. The bloodied and exhausted agents and
mystics cheered and cried as they embraced and thanked their
comrades for coming to their aid.

Zoey dismounted Firefax and looked around.
In all the cheers and triumph, something was missing. Something was
off. She ran towards the Alpha prisoners.

“Where’s Mrs. Dupont and Nazar?” she called
to Director Hicks. “Please, tell me you caught them?”

Director Hicks hesitated for a moment and
then searched the area with a perplexed expression as if he’d
forgotten something important.

And then, as if in answer to her question,
an engine roared into life, and a single helicopter rose into the
air. Mrs. Dupont glared down at Zoey from the window. Before any of
them could react, the helicopter grew smaller and smaller and
disappeared like an inky star into the black night sky.

O
n the day
following the attacks, Zoey was called to a special meeting with
Management. She was debriefed for ten hours straight. Although she
kept the part about her mother a secret, she retold her story and
explained her special abilities to them. Agent Franken was kind
enough to stand up for her and had validated her claims. When she
told them that Mrs. Dupont had used her to open the
Great
Junction
, Director Hicks’ eyes widened.

“Are you sure those were the words she used?
The
Great Junction?”

Directors Martin and Campbell scowled at
Zoey, but she ignored them.

“I am sure,” she said, her voice steady and
clear, “I saw it with my own eyes. It’s like a big blue hole in the
forest. I could see another world right through it, too. It was
like I was just staring through a glass window.” She leaned forward
in her chair. “So does that mean you’ve heard of the Great Junction
before?”

“Impossible!” protested Director Martin. He
stood up. “The Great Junction is just a myth! It doesn’t exist. Two
worlds cannot be connected by a permanent doorway. It would be like
poking a hole into a bag full of water - we would all die — the
worlds would die! Portals open, and then they
close
, that’s
why they’re called
doorways
. The Originals thought they
could create this Great Junction, but we have no idea
why
they wanted to do it in the first place. Even
they
didn’t
have the power or the skill. It cannot be done. This girl is full
of lies!”

“SILENCE!” Director Hicks smashed his fist
against the table.

Director Martin lowered himself very slowly
into his chair, his face as red as Director Hicks’.

Zoey sunk back into her chair.

“May the blood of our ancestors protect us,”
he added in a low voice. He fell silent for a moment and leaned
back into his chair. “I believe you, Zoey. And after we’ve
witnessed what this Mrs. Dupont can do firsthand, I will never
underestimate her again. And I will never undervalue you again
either, Zoey.”

Zoey pressed her lips together to keep
herself from smiling.

Director Hicks wiped his forehead with a tan
handkerchief and then turned to Directors Campbell and Johnson.

“We will need to call an emergency council
meeting at once. It is a matter of the utmost importance. We must
understand what this all means. Please make the necessary
arrangements once the meeting is over.”

“Yes, Director,” said Director Campbell, and
then she turned and looked at Zoey suspiciously.

Director Johnson nodded his head. “If what
Zoey says is true, then we are all in danger. I fear this is just
the beginning of much, much worse.”

“Please, Directors, listen to yourselves!”
said Director Martin. His voice rose. “You cannot be serious!
Listen to what you are saying! The Great Junction isn’t real! It’s
just a tale from the old books, it’s just a made-up story.”

“Quiet down!” Director Hicks glowered.
“I’ve heard your counsel, Director Martin, and
suffice to say, you have failed to meet my
expectations.”

Director Martin’s expression darkened, but
he said nothing.

“I will not make the same mistake again,”
continued Director Hicks. “We owe our people, our Agencies, more
than that.” He lifted his eyes and looked at Zoey. “Good judgment
comes from experience. Unfortunately, experience usually comes from
bad judgment,” he said and then fell silent.

The room was still. Zoey’s heart pounded in
her ears. She waited until she couldn’t bear the silence anymore
and then said, “So…what happens now? How do we close it?”

“I’m not sure,” said Director Hicks, “and
that is the truth. We’ll know more once we speak to the Council of
Directors.”

Zoey looked at Director Martin. He was
staring daggers at her.

She averted her eyes and said, “I want to
help. I want to help stop Mrs. Dupont. Part of this is my fault, so
I want to fix it if I can.”

Director Hicks smiled kindly at her. “I know
you do. But remember this, Zoey,
d
ownfalls
usually come from within
.”

Zoey nodded, even though she had no idea
what the director meant.

“You can go now, Zoey,” said Director Hicks.
“You’ve given us lots to think about.”

As Zoey made her way towards the door, she
could feel Director Martin’s eyes boring into the back of her head.
She smiled, but she didn’t turn around.

It took an entire month for the students and
agents to rebuild the Hive.

Agent Vargas had called it, “a great
educational experience,” and “a good workout.”

“Working the body is good for the soul,” he
had said. And also, “learning what lies behind the walls of the
Hive is an asset for every agent.”

Zoey didn’t mind the work; in fact, she
rather enjoyed it.

She learned how to set a marble tile down
and use a wet saw. She even learned basic plumbing and electricity.
It was just like being in one of the home improvement shows she
loved to watch on TV. Every morning she’d wake up with bruises and
muscle pain in places she didn’t even know she
had
muscles.

Agent Franken had successfully produced an
antidote that had eliminated the black oil from every mirror-port
around the world. It had made him an instant star and given him
attention that he clearly did not want. He had been hiding back in
his chamber ever since.

The Agencies around the world were slowly
rebuilding themselves, one brick at a time. The Agencies’ borders
were back up, and life was nearly back to normal.

Zoey finally painted the last trim. She
tossed her paintbrush in an empty bucket of paint and stood back to
admire her work. The trim on the windows of room
2C, Creature
Control
gleamed with a shiny white gloss. Perfect. With her job
done, she dropped off her paint supplies to one of the caretakers
and hurried over to the Wander Inn.

After a quick shower, she dressed in blue
jeans, white cami, and black hoody. Once she had laced up her
favorite Converse sneakers, she clasped her boomerang onto its gold
bracelet and admired it for half a second before she pulled her
sleeve back down. She couldn’t risk drawing attention to herself,
not tonight. Tonight was special. Tonight she was going to make a
real difference.

When she was done, she ran out of her
bedroom door and rushed down the stairs.

It was Friday evening, and rumors of a great
ceremony were circulating. They were going to celebrate those who
had helped to protect the Hive - they were going to celebrate Zoey
and her friends.

Zoey bounded towards the front door, but
before she could go outside Aria intercepted her.

“Coat, please.”

Zoey halted and turned. Aria stood in the
dining room in a yellow polka-dot apron that read,
Supreme chef.
Mess with me—and I’ll cook you!

She raised her eyebrows. “I know everyone’s
anxious for spring, but it’s still freezing cold. I don’t want you
to catch pneumonia. Please put on your coat.”

Zoey rolled her eyes, but she knew better
than to argue with Aria - she did have
four
hands. Besides,
she’d just take it off once she was inside the Hive. She yanked her
coat from the hook and threw it over her shoulders.

“Why aren’t you dressed yet?” asked Zoey as
she pulled her arms through the sleeves of her new woolen coat.
“Aren’t you coming to the ceremony? You can’t miss this. Simon said
that it’s the first big ceremony in ten years!”

“Yes, yes, I’ll be there,” laughed Aria.
“I’m just finishing up here. You’d better go before you explode all
over my clean floor. I’ll see you later.”

Zoey’s face lit up. “Bye!”

She closed the front door behind her and
galloped across the grounds. Golden lights shone from the windows
of the Hive, and she could hear the constant drum of music. She
quickened her pace and tried not to slip on the snow with her
sneakers.

She reached the front doors and pulled them
open.

It was even better than she had hoped.

The entire main hall was decorated for a
large banquet. Music boomed, and streamers and lights illuminated
the ceiling like stars in the night sky. Every mirror was adorned
with sparkling stars and balloons. Small round tables on either
side of the reception area were draped in silky white linens and
covered with food, drinks, and desserts. It was like stepping into
a fairytale ball.

Zoey sauntered slowly into the hall, trying
not to miss anything. What she had first thought were lights were
in fact tiny flying mystics that looked like dragonflies with
dazzling colors and extra-large wings. They were spraying
pixie-like dust onto the heads below. They smiled and waved at the
guests, totally opposite to the ugly fairies she had sprayed and
bagged.

Guests were still flooding in, stepping
through the mirror-ports in their best suits and dresses. Agent
Ward was laughing with Director Johnson, whose face was flushed
from several glasses of wine.

But the most incredible sight was the band.
Across from Zoey at the other end of the main hall, above a
platform, were the strangest band members she’d ever seen. A
plump, pink-skinned
 
mystic
, with
elephant-like ears and a trunk, played fiercely on a
keyboard. A short white-colored mystic with the head of a
fish and wearing a straw skirt blew a saxophone, and a
spindly-legged
 
mystic
that looked like a human-grasshopper sang his
heart out. Mystics and Sevenths danced together.

Zoey beamed, in spite of herself. It was
like the attacks on the Agencies had never even happened.

She strolled down the main hall, admiring
how different it looked, how perfectly happy everyone was. The
evening was a success.

“Zoey!”

Zoey turned around. Simon and Tristan made
their way through the crowd, and Tristan handed her a glass of pink
liquid.

“Punch,” he said and then he made a face.
“I’ve had better, and I’ve had worse. We’re not allowed to drink
the other stuff.”

Zoey took a sip and cringed. “Just a bit too
sweet for me, but it’s
not
bad.”

She gulped down the rest of the drink and
smacked her lips. She looked at Tristan. “Are you ready for
this?”

Tristan had a strange look in his eye, like
his attention was somewhere far away. “I am.”

“Me too,” said Simon, and he looked over
Zoey’s shoulder. “Look who decided to show his ugly face.”

Stuart King stood with his back against the
wall, and his arms wrapped around his chest. His usual cronies were
next to him, and three beautiful girls were batting their eyes,
trying desperately to get his attention. But his attention lay
elsewhere. His ice-cold stare was as sharp as always, and he
focused it intently on Zoey.

Zoey waved at Stuart and gave him her best
smile. He grimaced and looked away. The girls moved in on him at
once, and he disappeared in a mob of giggling teenage girls.

“What’s his problem?” laughed Zoey. “Guess
he’s still mad at me about the leprechaun incident.”

Simon shook his head. “That’s not it.
Look.”

Two large agents moved along the main hall,
staying close to the edge and out of sight. Between them was
Claudia Walsh. Her head hung low on her chest, but Zoey could see
the red in her eyes and the tears on her cheeks. She looked like
she’d been crying all night. They moved forward in silence and then
halted in front of one of the mirror-ports.