Mystics 3-Book Collection (79 page)

Zoey’s mouth tasted like metal. “What does
that mean? Survive what? What kind of test?”

“Hopefully it’s not a math test. I suck at
math,” muttered Simon.

“I don’t like this,” said Tristan as he
gripped his blade in his hand.

“You’re not the only one.” With her
boomerang firmly in her hand, Zoey scanned the room.

The sorceress raised her hands. Her thin
pale arms peeked from the sleeves of her white robes.

Who will survive the first test? Or will you
all be lost . . . ?

Before Zoey could protest, the chamber
dissolved into darkness.

Chapter 11

Z
oey sat at a
kitchen table.

She felt sleepy, like she had just woken up.
She smelled coffee and pancakes. A man with dark hair and dark eyes
sat across from her reading his newspaper. He seemed oddly
familiar.

“Don’t forget to drink your orange juice.
You need more vitamin C,” said a woman’s voice.

When Zoey looked up, her jaw dropped.

A woman with fire-red hair and big green
eyes walked into the kitchen. She wore a fitted white shirt and
black pants. “And don’t forget your father and I are going to
dinner tonight with Kathy and James, so you’ll be on your own.”

She popped a piece of toast into her
mouth.

“M—mom?” Zoey’s mouth was dry. It felt odd
to say that word, but she didn’t understand why it should.

Her mother sipped the rest of her coffee and
set the empty mug in the sink. “What is it, dear?”

Zoey looked across the table. “Dad?”

Her father looked up from his paper. “Hmm?
What?”

Again, Zoey had a strange feeling in the pit
of her stomach, but then it faded when she looked at the smile on
her father’s face. She could see love in his eyes. Her father
loved
her.

What’s wrong with me
?

“Nothing.” Zoey shrugged, gulped some orange
juice, and settled her glass on the table. “I just feel weird
today.”

Her mother put her hand on Zoey’s forehead,
and Zoey couldn’t help but smile up at her mother. How beautiful
she looked, she wanted to reach out and hug her.

“Huh, well, you’re not warm, so you don’t
have a fever,” said her mother, and then she checked her cell
phone. “But don’t take any chances. Make sure you wash your hands
often at school . . . there could be a bug going around. I don’t
want you to get sick.”

“I will.”

Zoey couldn’t stop smiling. Her parents were
here with her. They were awesome. This whole scenario was awesome.
And yet she still felt like something was off, like there was
something missing . . . .

A ring came from the front door.

She didn’t know why, but Zoey stood up and
blurted out. “I’ll get it.”

She pushed her chair back and ran down the
hallway, feeling happier than ever. She pulled open the door.

“Hey, you ready?” said Tristan. His smile
sent Zoey’s stomach into a series of spasms.

“Tristan?”

“Yeah? What? Did you forget we were going to
go to school together?” Her stomach twisted in knots again when he
smiled.

“Uh . . .” Zoey rubbed her temples. “No,
it’s just I’m feeling weird today. Let me get my bag—”

A lanky teen with blond hair strolled along
the street across from Zoey and Tristan. She felt as though she
knew him.

“Simon?”

The boy stopped and looked at Zoey
strangely.

“You know him?” asked Tristan, peering at
the teen who was now coming towards them.

“Of course I do, and so you do.”

Tristan shook his head. “No, I don’t.”

Zoey frowned. Simon stood at the bottom of
the steps looking confused.

“I know you, don’t I?” said Simon. “At
least, I think I do. This is so weird. I feel like I’m having a
déjà vu on repeat.”

Zoey’s head pounded, like someone was
hitting it with a hammer. She glanced back towards the kitchen. Her
mother and father were laughing together. They seemed so happy. But
then their voices sounded watery and far away. Her gut told her
that something was off . . . but what was it? She couldn’t put her
finger on it.

“Zoey?” questioned Tristan. “You’re frowning
like you have a headache or something.”

“Yes . . . no . . .” Zoey inspected Simon at
the foot of the stairs. He was talking to himself and seemed
lost.

“Something’s wrong,” she said. “I feel
it.”

Tristan leaned forward. “What’s wrong?”

“All of this.” Zoey raised her arms. “You,
Simon, me, my parents. It’s an illusion.”

Tristan knocked on the wall. “Feels pretty
real to me. You sure you’re ok?”

The ground wavered, and Zoey felt like she
couldn’t stand. The more she thought that this world was an
illusion, the more the illusion faded, like a curtain was being
lifted and the truth was being revealed.

Tristan looked confused.

“It’s not real,” she insisted. “None of it.
You guys—this is a trick! Remember?”

“Zoey?” Her mother stood in the hallway.
“Are you going to invite Tristan in for some breakfast?”

Zoey felt as though her heart was breaking.
Part of her wanted to stay in this illusion with her parents. It
was all she’d ever wanted—a real family—a mother and father, but
they weren’t
real
. This wasn’t real. Tears rolled down her
cheeks.

“This isn’t real!” she howled. “It’s a
spell.”

As soon as she said it, more of reality came
to her. She remembered the white fortress, the white sorceress. The
Minitians. This was their doing.

The layers of illusion folded and twisted
her sense of reality. Zoey felt like she was floating away from her
body. She felt scared and out of control, like she would never find
her real self or the real world again.

Ignoring her mother, Zoey grabbed Tristan’s
hand and pulled him down the steps. With her other hand, she
grabbed Simon’s and squeezed. “This is an illusion. We’re not
really here.”

Simon shook his head. “I’m feeling weird. I
think I’m going to puke.”

“You’re not going to puke.” She pulled her
friends in closer. “We just have to break through it—”

“Zoey,” crooned her mother. “Why don’t you
come in? Your father wants to show you what he’s thinking of
getting you for your birthday. It’s real special; you’re going to
love it!”

More tears spilled down Zoey’s cheeks.

“This . . .” her voice cracked. “It’s . . .
not . . . real. I’ve never met my parents. I’m an orphan!
Remember?”

Tristan hesitated. “I—I remember. Yes. You
told me about it the first time we met—”

“That’s right.”

“Zoey, I love you,” said her mother as she
stood in the doorway. She reached out. “Come, my darling girl. Come
give your mother a hug.”

“UH!” shouted Zoey. “Get out of my head.
This isn’t real!”

“This isn’t real,” repeated Simon. “If this
isn’t real, then where the heck are we? What is this place?”

Zoey ignored her mother. “I don’t know, but
we’re definitely still in the fortress. Come on guys, we need to
break the spell—”

“You’re too late,” laughed her mother. “You
have failed, Zoey St. John. Now you must pay for what you have
done!”

Suddenly, her mother’s face warped, and her
body stretched. Her skin turned paper-white; her clothes shimmered
and became white robes.

The high sorceress snapped her fingers.

Holes opened in the ground beneath Zoey’s
feet. She pushed Tristan and Simon aside just as tendrils of black
smoke broke through.

“RUN!” she screamed.

“Where?” said Simon. “If this isn’t real,
where are we supposed to go?”

“This way!” Zoey pulled Tristan and Simon
with her. They ran down a street, leaped over a garbage can, and
came to a halt in front of a deep pit.

“Is this part of the illusion?” asked Simon,
gasping for breath. “If it is . . . I want my money back.”

“Why aren’t we waking up?” said Tristan as
he tested the pit with his foot. “I mean, now that we
know
it’s an illusion, why isn’t the spell breaking?”

“I don’t know, maybe it takes time.”

Zoey glanced behind her. The sorceress was
following behind them. Tall black tendrils of smoke rippled beside
her like great waves.

Somehow, Zoey knew they were in the same
fortress. They were running around aimlessly, back and forth like
hamsters in a cage, while all the sorceresses watched in
amusement.

They tore down the street. But when Zoey
thought they were reaching the end of the road, it kept going on
and on, as though it were being stretched in a visual effects
scene.

How could they break free of the spell? She
hated the white sorceress for playing with her head. It wasn’t
fair. Her eyes welled with tears. She wanted to scream. How could
this have happened? It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.

And then she heard chanting in a language
she couldn’t understand. The voices were all around them in the
air.

The street and buildings grew more solid,
and the smell of pavement and freshly cut grass grew more
intense.

But she knew it was a trick, a trick of the
mind. The Minitians were trying to drive them insane. Desperately,
she tried to break free. But it was like trying to fight off a
god—it was pointless.

The light intensified and lit up the
chamber. Then a beam of light shot out of a crystal and hit her
square in the face. At first it hurt, like a slap in the face, but
then she couldn’t feel anything at all except for the burning in
her eyes.

She tried to blink, but her eyelids wouldn’t
respond. Even when she tried to look away—she couldn’t. It was as
though the light had trapped her.

Zoey felt like she had jumped into a
freezing lake. She felt colder and colder. The beam of light was
sucking the energy out of her. Her soul was being pulled into the
crystal.

Her body hardened and cracked as thick
scales formed over her skin. But she knew it wasn’t scales. She was
turning into crystal.

The hardness reached inside and clamped down
on her lungs. She was suffocating. She was dying. She wished she
could have spent more time with Tristan. She thought she heard a
voice call out her name, and then another voice screamed
angrily.

Her vision blurred. The light disappeared
and there was only blackness—

Zoey felt her body float. She thought that
this was what it was like to be dead. Her soul was floating away .
. . .

She hit the floor hard with a thump.

She blinked the white spots from her eyes
and looked around. Tristan and Simon moaned on the floor next to
her. They hadn’t been turned into crystals. They weren’t
dead
.

Zoey was happy to feel a stabbing pain in
her side and legs. She wasn’t dead. Maybe a bruised rib—that was
good.

The crystal still hung in the air above
their heads, but its light was dimmed as though someone had shut it
off.

“Is this heaven?” said Simon, as he lay on
his back with his eyes open. “Am I dead? Can I have a girlfriend
now?”

Zoey scrambled to her knees and felt her
energy slowly return as the blood rushed back into her body. She
rubbed her hands to get the blood flowing again. “No, you’re not
dead.”

“Oh,” said Simon. He struggled to a sitting
position. “For a minute there, I thought we were goners for sure. I
felt my life being sucked out of me, like the lights were going
out, and I’d never wake up.”

The Minitians still stood around them in a
circle. Their bodies shifted as if they were waiting for something.
Maybe this was just the beginning and they were going to keep
torturing them.

As the blood surged back into Zoey’s legs,
she wondered if she could outrun them.

Tristan rubbed his eyes and stretched his
legs. He turned to Zoey. “Why do you think they stopped—?”

High sorceress!

Zoey turned towards the sound of the new
voice.

A Minitian came towards her from the other
end of the chamber. Her white face was expressionless. She lowered
her arms and crossed the room. Her black robes spilled around her
like waves of black water, and the other Minitians parted and let
her through.

She stood face to face with the high
sorceress and pointed to Zoey and her friends.

You cannot take the lives of these children.
They are innocent.

The high sorceress didn’t move. When she
spoke her voice was soft but full of anger.
Why did you stop me?
What is the meaning of this, Muttab?

“Muttab!” Zoey scrambled to her feet, but
Muttab raised her hand and Zoey halted.

These mortals dared to enter the white
fortress!
said another Minitian.
They should pay the
price.

They should die like the others. They are
evil.

“Who is she calling evil?” exclaimed Simon.
“They’re the ones trying to kill us!”

Muttab turned and addressed the Minitians.
Sisters, these children are no threat to us.

The high sorceress cocked her head.
But
how can you be so sure, Muttab? How else did they find us if they
were not aided by our enemies? Only powerful dark sorcerers can
find the fortress. You know this. How do you know these are not
dark sorcerers disguised as children to trick us? Do not be fooled,
sister.

Muttab motioned towards Zoey.
The
red-haired child is called Zoey. Her mother is my friend—

How can that be?
Said the high
sorceress.
A friend you say? Minitians do not make friends with
mortals. How can this child’s mother be
your
friend?

Muttab turned and faced Zoey and for a
moment Zoey thought she could see her face change, as though the
white mask softened, but it was difficult to tell what her mother’s
friend felt.

Her mother sought our help years ago,
began Muttab.
She searched for the fortress, but could not find
it. Her powers weren’t strong enough, unlike her daughter’s. And
one day, beyond the boundaries of our magic and fortresses, I
sensed a deep and profound sadness. As I began my search for this
sorrow, I found the mortal, Elizabeth.