Out of Sight (16 page)

B
Y FOUR O'CLOCK THEY WERE READY. SOPHIE
shook with relief since she was fairly certain that her frayed nerves couldn't handle any more waiting. Malik had made her go over every single detail a hundred more times, and, whatever dumb fantasy she'd had that Kara and Harvey might turn up was gone. She was on her own. Well, she still had Malik, but soon he would be gone, too.

Sophie took a deep breath and began to unroll the carpet onto her bedroom floor. Once that was done she wrapped her fingers around the small vial of Solomon's Elixir and said a silent prayer to the Universe, asking for it to be on her side.

“Hey?” Malik looked up from where he had been pouring over the floor plan one last time. “Are you worried about landing the carpet in the right spot? Maybe I shouldn't have told you about the laser beams and how they pulverize your brain if they touch you. We've been practicing all week, and you've totally nailed those landings. I'm ninety-nine percent sure that we're ready for this.”

“I'm okay,” Sophie quickly assured him as she slipped the elixir into her pocket and went over everything in her head one more time. According to what Manny had told Malik, the guards tended to do their paperwork twenty minutes before they finished their shift, which meant they didn't monitor the security screens as carefully as they should. It was the only window of opportunity they would get.

However, that wasn't the only obstacle. In the room was a series of laser beams laid out like a 3D grid that Sophie would have to land in. According to Malik, she could simply use her magic to wish them away, but in doing so she would trigger the alarm system, and they would then have only one minute before the guards arrived. Which meant that once Sophie did deactivate them, she would have to pour the elixir on the painting, release her dad, and get out of there in under a minute.

No pressure then.

At least, unlike her hopeless attempts at trying to convince Kara she was sorry, all the practices had gone really well. According to Malik, she was as ready as she was ever going to be.

“Okay, so it's time. Let's do this thing,” Malik announced as he smoothed down the bright blue harem pants he had chosen for the occasion; they were clashing violently with his Wildcats basketball shirt and made him look more like a Vanilla Ice wannabe than a two-thousand-year-old ghost. He had tried to convince Sophie that since this was her first big mission she should wear something similar, but she opted for her jeans and her favorite Neanderthal Joe T-shirt instead, as well as her Eddie Henry guitar pick.

“I'm ready,” Sophie assured him and glanced at her watch. “So it's four o'clock, and hopefully my mom won't be back until five. If she finds out that I've been gone, I'll be grounded for the rest of my immortal life.”

For a moment Sophie thought of Kara, but she quickly pushed the thought from her mind. This was it. What she had been dreaming of for so long—not just seeing her dad, but bringing him home so they could be a family once again. It was for her. For her mom and for Meg. And that's why she knew that she could do it.

She walked over to the carpet and sat on it in a cross-legged position. Malik joined her, and Sophie suddenly felt her throat tighten as she turned to him. Yes, most of the time he was a complete pain in the butt who got her into more trouble than he was worth. Not to mention the fact that he constantly forgot to tell her vital bits of information. But...but all the same, she was going to miss him like crazy when he was gone. She closed her eyes for a moment and felt a familiar tingle go racing through her.

“Hey.” He grinned in surprise. “Cheetos. What are these for?”

“I've heard it's the universal language for ‘thank you,'” Sophie said. “I guess I just wanted to—”

“What? Okay, whoa. Stop right there.” Malik put up his hand and looked at her in alarm. “The first rule of being a djinn is never to make soppy and emotional speeches. Especially not to dead djinns who tear up far too easily and in turn can wind up in embarrassing and undignified moments,” he added, and shot her a rueful smile. “And besides, it's not like I'm dead. Well, okay, I'm totally dead, but I can still come to visit. All you have to do is clap your hands and summon me.”

“Malik, you
never
come when I clap my hands and summon you,” Sophie reminded him with a watery sniff.

“Well, that's true, but I
will
visit. Especially if the Djinn Council hires me to do another training job and then sends me somewhere that doesn't have broadband or cable,” he said in a light voice. But Sophie couldn't help but notice that he quickly busied himself with opening up the bag of Cheetos and avoided making eye contact.

“Thank you.” Sophie shot him one last smile before she closed her eyes and concentrated on everything that he had been teaching her for the last two weeks. Then she slowly lifted her head, causing the carpet below her to rise gently off the ground. Once it was floating high enough, Sophie took a deep breath and prepared to blink her eyes. If she did this right, she would be in the long gallery in the heart of Sheterum's mansion, hovering directly in front of the painting her father was in. If she did it wrong...well...she was a positive thinker, so she wasn't about to go there. Instead, she loosened her grip on the sides of the carpet like Malik had taught her, blinked her eyes, and felt a familiar lurching of her stomach.

A moment later the disembodied feeling of being dropped from a great height left her, and Sophie cautiously opened her eyes. Malik had warned her to lean forward when she blinked, and she had assumed this was to give herself a smoother landing. But she now realized that it was because the grid work of thin red laser beams was so tight.

As she glanced around from her hunched-forward position, she realized just how close they really were. One sneeze would be enough to bring on the brain pulverizing. Once she calmed down, she awkwardly pulled the Solomon's Elixir from her pocket to make sure it was still safe. It was, but that didn't stop the adrenaline from pumping through her veins as she studied the room.

It was a long gallery, exactly like the picture Manny had given them, with impossibly shiny polished wooden floors and ornate plaster cornices. She could also see hundreds of tiny laser-thin red lines that sliced through the room, making it look like something out of a Tom Cruise movie. But the one thing that wasn't there was the Kandinsky painting. The wall she was looking at was completely bare.

Next to her, Malik was looking equally alarmed as he hunched forward, clutching at his harem pants so the voluminous fabric wouldn't hit any of the beams that were caging them in.

“What happened?” Sophie tried to crane her head around, but it was difficult when they were so restricted. “Do you think Manny tricked us?”

“No.” Malik started to shake his head before catching sight of a laser and obviously thinking better of it. “I have excellent radar when it comes to lying, cheating scoundrels, and I can always tell when they are fibbing. Plus, I totally gave him my favorite Zac Efron T-shirt.”

“So where's my dad then?” Tears stung her eyes. “Do you think that Sheterum took the painting with him to Paris?”

“Again, no. Even if Sheterum took your father, the painting would still be here. Which means...oh—” Malik suddenly broke off and flattened himself farther down onto the carpet.

“What? Why did you just say ‘oh'?” Sophie demanded. “Did you see some guards?”

“No, not yet. But look, we're facing the wrong way around.” Malik used his eyes to indicate the door at the far end of the gallery. “That's where the guards will come in from, which means that the painting is behind us.”

What?
Sophie battled with the desire to scream. But screaming wouldn't help anyone, and it would most definitely alert the guards. So she forced herself to assess the situation silently. She had about five inches to her front, back, and sides but only one inch before her head hit a beam, which would make turning around very difficult. However, just as she realized that, Malik suddenly disappeared and then reappeared facing the other way.

Okay, well, it wasn't difficult for him, but it was going to be difficult for her. And according to her watch, she'd already wasted a minute.

“Sophie,” Malik said, but Sophie cut him off.

“I know.” She carefully twisted her torso while not lifting her head. Then she put her right hand out behind so that she could uncross her legs without losing her balance. If she had been playing a game of Twister, she would probably have fallen over by now, but this was no game. Sweat gathered on her brow as she began the awkward task of swiveling around without lifting her head or shoulders any higher.

“Sophie,” Malik said again as she clamped down on her lip and edged her way around.

“It's okay, Malik. I've got this,” she said with more conviction than she felt. As she moved, she tried not to look at just how close the red beams were to her face. Never had she been more grateful in her life that her flat hair didn't have any bounce in it. Instead, she continued to twist herself around until she was finally facing the other way, lying forward on her knees like she was about to do a push-up. “See. I told you that I could—”

But the rest of her words were lost as she realized what Malik had been trying to tell her. Horror rose up in her throat, its icy fingers tightening their grip as she stared at the wall. There wasn't just one Kandinsky painting; there were thirty of them. All identical and all staring back at her. Sophie's heart hammered in fear as her grip around the Solomon's Elixir vial tightened. What was she going to do now?

O
KAY, SO THE IMPORTANT THING IS NOT TO PANIC,”
Sophie counseled herself as she tried to ignore the grim expression plastered on Malik's normally relaxed face. Instead, she continued to stare at the wall, her eyes a blur of color and crazy geometric shapes all swirling and taunting her. “I mean, there's obviously a logical explanation for why there are so many copies of the same painting.”

“They're not the same.” Malik's voice was serious and did nothing to alleviate Sophie's growing fear. “They are all subtly different, and they're all there because sahirs are cunning evil creatures who love to play tricks. Unfortunately, this is one trick that we didn't count on. I don't suppose you brought your copy of the original painting, did you?”

“No,” Sophie gulped. “I didn't even think of it, but if it's any consolation, I can tell you exactly where it is in my sock drawer. Do we have time to go back to get it?” she asked as they both continued to sit perfectly still in their awkward positions, trapped by the lasers.

“No.” Malik's expression was grim, and Sophie felt her heart begin to pound in her chest. “I know you found the trip easy this time, but it's actually very draining, which is why we didn't practice doing locations farther away before. By the time we get back, you'll need at least twenty-four hours to recuperate, and Sheterum will be back by then.”

“W-what about wishing for it to appear?” Sophie asked, but Malik just dropped his voice lower.

“I'm sorry. Manny gave us the codes to teleport in here without being detected, but if we use any more magic, we'll leave a magical residue and trigger the alarm.”

Sophie felt the color leach from her skin. “S-so what
can
we do?”

“We can try like crazy to remember what the original painting looked like because we only get one shot at this, and if we get it wrong . . .” Malik let his voice trail off, but Sophie didn't need him to finish the sentence to know that this was very bad indeed. Especially since she had been so busy learning how to fly the carpet and studying the floor plans that she had barely given the painting itself a second thought. Something that she was now bitterly regretting.

She stared at the thirty paintings on the wall, each of them calling out “Pick me, pick me” to her. But she couldn't do it. Her dad was stuck in one of those paintings, and it was up to her to unbind him. But if she picked the wrong painting, then it would all be for nothing. She would've failed, and she might never have another chance. She had to pick the right painting. Why hadn't she studied the photograph better? Why hadn't she taken a picture of it and put it on her cell phone? Oh, yes, that's right, it was because she didn't have a cell phone and—

“That's it!” she suddenly said, still leaning forward so that she wouldn't accidently hit the lasers. “I can call Harvey and ask him to climb in through my bedroom window and check the postcard. It wouldn't be the first time he's done it.”

“Sophie, even if you told Harvey that the postcard was covered in nachos and lasagna, he wouldn't be able to get there in time,” Malik said with a groan, still hunched forward on the carpet. “This is all my fault. I'm a bad djinn guide. The worst. I mean, this is a classic sahir trick, and I fell for it.”

“Don't be silly. Of course you didn't think of it, because what djinn in his right mind would go into a sahir's mansion? But we don't have time for this right now. We need to get this figured out, so even if Harvey can't get to my house in time, he can still look it up on the Internet. Kara said it was a totally famous painting before Sheterum stole it. Can I use your cell phone?”

For a moment Malik blinked and then grinned. “I was wondering when the old Sophie would come back.” He awkwardly managed to wriggle his cell phone from out of his harem pants and passed it over. Sophie propped herself up on her elbows so that her hands were free. First she took photographs of all the paintings, and then she scrolled through for Harvey's number.

“Soph?” Harvey immediately answered. “Are you back? What happened? Is everything—”

“Okay, short version is that we're stuck in a laser-beam grid staring at thirty copies of the same painting, and since the alarm will be triggered when I deactivate the lasers, I've only got one shot at doing this. If I send some photographs of all the paintings to you, do you think you could look the real one up on the Internet and figure out which one it is? Oh, and the guards will be changing in ten minutes.”

“Of course,” Harvey immediately answered, not bothering to ask unnecessary questions, which made her feel overwhelmingly grateful.

“Thanks, H. I'm sending them now.” She finished the call and let out a sigh of relief as she quickly sent him all the photographs. Then she turned to Malik and tried not to notice how pale his face was looking. Not that she could blame him, since there was no way of knowing if Harvey would even find the painting on the Internet, let alone figure out which one it—

But before she could even finish that thought, Malik's cell phone began to vibrate. Okay, there was quick and there was quick, and her chest pounded with worry as she answered it, still careful not to move.

“Harvey?” she demanded. “Is everything okay? Did you get the photograph?”

“He did,” a crisp voice on the other end of the phone said, and Sophie froze.

“K-kara?”

“Look, I know you don't have much time, so here's the skinny. I know which painting your dad is in.”

“You do?” Sophie all but yelled before catching Malik's pointed glare as he nodded at the door to remind her that even though they weren't under surveillance, they could still be heard if anyone happened to be walking past. She immediately lowered her voice. “A-are you sure? It's just there are thirty paintings, and if we screw it up—”

“Sophie, on the life of Colin the flying monkey, I'm sure,” Kara quickly assured her. “It's the one in the middle row, third from the left. There's a really defined blue line running through the left-hand side of it, and the yellow triangle is a lot darker. All the others are just cheap prints that someone's painted over. When I looked at the copies on the computer, it's really easy to see the faint lines of the original print where they've missed a spot. They're pretty basic forgeries that would never get past even the dumbest art dealer. But I guess they're only there to confuse people.”

Sophie looked up on the wall until she spotted the painting Kara had described. It immediately stood out from the others, and the more Sophie looked at it, the less she could believe that she hadn't noticed it sooner. Next to her Malik tapped his watch to remind her to be quick.

“Kara, I don't know what to say,” she said as the words choked in her throat. “After everything that's happened, I don't deserve for you to—”

“Stop. Look, I admit that I was angry. Public humiliation does that to a person, but then Melissa Tait came over to where Harvey and I were waiting in the parking lot and wanted to talk to me.”

“What?”

“I know, right. Anyway, she said that my artwork was excellent for an amateur, and she'd love to see more of it. Then she added that I should stop showing it to you because you were a knucklehead who could only interpret artwork on a literal level instead of seeing it as a projective statement.”

“That does sound like Melissa,” Sophie agreed, and wrinkled her nose. “So what does that mean?”

For a moment Kara was silent, and then let out a groan. “It means that she thinks I was projecting myself into the painting, and she's right. Deep down, I was being selfish, too. You shouldn't have to fix my inability to talk to Patrick—I should. Which is why I called him when I got home.”

“No.”

“Yes, and we had a perfectly fine conversation during which my head didn't explode. Not even once. He also told me that you had gone to see him to tell him how great I was.”

“Well, that wasn't exactly a hard conversation to have,” Sophie sniffed. “Since you are pretty great...so, does that mean that we're friends again?”

“Of course we are. But let's finish this conversation later. After you and your dad have come home. I know you can do it, Soph. Harvey does, too.”

“Thanks,” Sophie whispered as she finished the call and handed Malik his cell phone. She couldn't help but notice that he looked like he had something in his eye.

“What? I think it's this air-conditioning. It's playing havoc with my sinuses. Anyway, don't you have a djinn to unbind?”

“I do,” Sophie agreed as she kept her eyes firmly on the painting Kara had told her was real. Then she wished that the red laser beams would disappear. A familiar tingling feeling went charging through her, and the laser beams were gone. A second later a piercing alarm shattered the silence.

It took all of Sophie's willpower not to bury her head in her hands to try to block out the noise. Thankfully, Malik had warned her that this would happen, and so Sophie gritted her teeth and wriggled back into a sitting position. Then she guided the carpet forward until they were sitting directly in front of the painting.

Next to her Malik stiffened, but strangely enough, after everything that Sophie had been through, she felt a sense of calmness wash over her. She wasn't sure if it was because of the Universe or because she had Kara and Harvey watching her back, but suddenly she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was ready. She lifted the small vial of elixir and carefully unscrewed the lid. Then, without hesitating, she threw it on the Kandinsky and watched as the amber liquid shimmered and trickled its way down the brightly colored painting.

For a moment nothing happened, and Sophie's heart began to hammer with nerves as she looked at the empty bottle in her hand. If she'd made a mistake, then—

But the rest of her thoughts were cut off as the doors at the far end of the long gallery went flying open and three gorilla-sized men piled into the room.

“Come on, Dad. We need to go,” she whispered in a low, urgent voice, but still there was nothing. She could feel her pulse fluttering as the guards' shoes pounded along the wooden floorboards. “Come on—”

“Sophie, look.” Malik suddenly pointed back to the Kandinsky, which was now swirling like a windmill. Sophie tightened her grip on the empty vial as the painting suddenly ripped open and a man came tumbling out, landing with a thud on the floor just in front of them.

The noise caused the oncoming guards to stop in confusion, and that was all the time that Malik needed to disappear off the carpet and reappear over the crumpled body. Sophie instantly lowered her chin and brought the carpet plummeting to the ground. She ignored the impact as she joined Malik.

He was saying something in a language that Sophie had never even heard before, but all of her attention was on the figure in front of her. He was skinnier than she remembered, and his face was pale and his breathing shallow. A wealth of emotions threatened to overwhelm her as she reached out and gently touched his face.

“Malik, it's my father. We've found him—”

“And if we don't want to lose him again, we need to get the heck out of here,” Malik told her in a razor-sharp voice just as the guards snapped out of their confusion and raced toward them again. Without another thought she helped drag the motionless figure onto the carpet.