Eyes wide and glistening, Kendra nodded.
Rex peeled the duct tape from her mouth and tugged out the saliva-soaked cloth. Kendra smacked her lips. Her tongue felt dry. “Why, Rex?”
He smiled, eyes squinting behind lightly tinted lenses. “Rex wouldn’t do this to you, kiddo. Haven’t you caught on? I’m not Rex.”
“Are you some kind of shape shifter?”
“You’re getting warmer.”
“There were two of you,” Kendra guessed. “Just like there was another me.”
Rex sat down on the chair by his desk. “Want the lowdown? Honestly, I came from a tree. I was originally a fruit. A stingbulb. We’re not supposed to exist anymore, but here I am.”
“I don’t get it.”
A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “When you reached into the box, playing the touch game, a stingbulb pricked you. Stingbulbs must be handled carefully. They become the first living thing they sting.”
“That clone of me used to be the cactus fig?”
“We’re amazing fruit. Takes about ninety minutes for the metamorphosis to occur. Throughout the transformation, we continue to draw matter and nutrients from the tree we were plucked from. Then the remarkable connection breaks, we survive for three or four days, and poof, we die.”
Kendra stared at Rex, thinking through the implications. “So the Kendra stingbulb is going to pose as me.”
“She is a remarkable duplicate. She even has most of your memories. She’ll do a good job imitating you. Your guardians will be none the wiser.”
Kendra scowled. “If she has my personality, why isn’t she helping me?”
Rex placed his palms together, tapping his fingers. “Not your personality. Your memories. The majority of them, anyhow. Like any stingbulb, she has her own consciousness. So do I. Just because I can access Rex’s memories doesn’t mean he gets to run the show. We stingbulbs follow whatever commands we are issued after our transformation. My course is set. Rex was complicated. I’m not. I was created for the purpose of abducting you. While Ronda was leading singing time, I was issuing instructions to your duplicate.”
“Why not disobey your instructions and let me go? The people who made you are evil! You don’t want to help the bad guys, do you?”
Rex chuckled, smiling broadly. “Don’t waste your breath. Stingbulbs are single-mindedly loyal, Kendra. Our awareness functions differently from yours. We accomplish what we’ve been programmed to do. Despite the fond memories of you that Rex possesses, I can only perceive you as my enemy. Tough luck. I’ll only exist for another day or two. I must fulfill my assignment.”
“What are you supposed to do with me?” Kendra whispered.
“Deliver you to my creator.”
“Who created you?”
His eyebrows went up. “You’ll see.”
“Are we going far?”
He shrugged.
“Is the Sphinx behind this?”
“Is that a name I should know?”
Kendra pressed her lips together. “What was the mission of the other stingbulb?”
“Posing as you is her main task. If your guardians suppose you are snug in your bed, imagine how simple it will be to smuggle you away.”
“What other tasks does she have?”
Rex nodded, leaning forward. “They said you would be full of questions, and that you would try to persuade me to help you. They said I should help you understand what had happened, that it would calm you. They didn’t tell me much more than I needed to know, and I have told you all that I can.”
“Who programmed you?”
“We’re done talking for now.”
“Rex, don’t do this—you know me, you don’t want to hurt me. Rex, they’ll kill me. They’ll hurt my family. Rex, please, don’t give in to them, this is life or death. They’re trying to destroy the world.”
He smiled as if the plea were cute and pathetic. “Enough chitchat. I’m pretty well oriented—been in this skin for more than a day. I can’t be confused or persuaded. Let’s enjoy some music. I really like music. I’ve never had ears before. Don’t scream, don’t try anything. It will only make matters worse.”
Rex switched on the radio atop his desk and turned up the volume. Kendra assumed the classic rock was meant to help mask any sounds she might dare to make. The blaring guitars and screaming vocals made it harder for her to think.
Would anybody catch on to this ruse? Would Warren come rushing to her aid? Or Elise? Or Seth? How could they possibly guess that somebody else had taken her place? Until he had revealed himself, it had not even crossed Kendra’s mind that Rex could be a fake. If the counterfeit Kendra had her memories, what information might she share with their enemies? What might she steal? Who might she harm?
Rex remained beside Kendra in the chair, patiently watching her, occasionally beating an imaginary drum set. He showed no sign of letting his guard down. Try as she might, she could envision no way out of the predicament. It was a perfect, unforeseeable trap. The Sphinx had to be behind it. Would Rex take her to him? When? Closing her eyes, trying to tune out the rock music, Kendra yearned hopelessly for a plan.
Chapter 3
Impostor
Chewing on a bite of toast, Seth watched his sister shake an impressive pile of Cocoa Krispies into her cereal bowl. When she added milk, the mound of cereal rose, rice bits spilling over the edge of the bowl onto the table. As the cereal crackled, she brushed the fallen rice bits into her palm and popped them into her mouth. Then she dug in with her spoon.
“Hungry today?” Seth asked.
Kendra glanced over at him. “I love this stuff.”
“That’s your third bowl. Are you on some sort of anti-diet?”
She shrugged, spooning up another heaping mouthful.
“You’re probably just in mourning,” he teased, taking another bite of toast. “Last day of school until next year. No tests, no assignments, what will you do?”
“There’s not much going on today. Maybe I’ll skip.”
Seth laughed. “Nice. Good one. Where are you heading instead? Over to the movie theater? Burn up some quarters at the arcade?”
Kendra shrugged.
Seth studied his sister. “What’s your deal today? You hardly ever touch my Cocoa Krispies.”
“Guess I forgot how tasty they were.”
He shook his head in amused disbelief. “You know, you’re almost to the bottom of the box, where all the chocolate dust is hiding. It’s really good. Might as well.”
Kendra looked into the box, sniffed it, then dumped the cereal remnants into her bowl. She stirred the cereal with her spoon and resumed eating. Her eyes widened. “You’re right.”
“Make sure you drink the milk at the bottom. Whatever is left will be delicious.”
Kendra nodded, gulping down another mouthful.
Seth glanced at the clock. “I should get out to the bus stop, unless you’re serious about ditching. If you were, I’d stick around to witness the miracle.”
Kendra stared at him as if tempted, then rolled her eyes. “You know me better than that.”
“Do I? You almost had me going. Dad already left for work, Mom went to her painting group. We could pull this off.”
“Better hurry. There’s nobody here to drive you if you miss the bus.”
Seth snatched his backpack and headed for the door.
“Don’t just leave your junk on the table!” Kendra called.
“Could you grab it for me? I let you have the best part of the cereal.”
“You’re such a pest!”
Seth walked out the door. He still felt frustrated that Kendra had foiled his plans for a gold-funded Christmas. All of that work—hauling the batteries to Fablehaven to trade with the satyrs, collecting his payment from the nipsies, returning only part of the gold to Grandpa before sneaking the rest out—had gone to waste. Then again, he could still set aside a little gold and pretend to return it all the next time they visited Fablehaven. But with Kendra around, who knew when he could find a chance to convert gold into cash undetected?
His sister had sure been acting odd this morning. He had walked in on her smelling the decorative soap in the bathroom. Not just taking a whiff—she had been cupping the lavender rosebuds in her hands and inhaling with her eyes closed. And he knew from experience that consuming three huge bowls of sweet cereal would lead to a serious stomachache. Kendra normally ate a smallish, healthy breakfast. Furthermore, what was with her comment about ditching? Even as a joke, that was out of character. He wished she hadn’t planted the idea of skipping school in his brain. The possibilities were attractive.
When Seth saw the yellow bus lumber around a corner down the street, he hustled to the bus stop, taking care not to slip and fall with an audience watching. He arrived just in time, and his thoughts turned to horsing around with his friends.
* * *
As he descended the bus steps after school, Seth felt as though an enormous weight had been taken from his shoulders. Winter break was nothing compared to summer, but it was still long enough to pretend that school would never happen again. Walking to his house, he kicked chunks from the crusty snowbanks, scattering an icy spray with each impact. He found the front door locked. Mom had mentioned that she might be off running errands. He took out his key and let himself inside.
In the kitchen, Seth foraged for snacks in the cupboards. They were out of the best stuff, so he settled for Doritos and chocolate milk. After the snack, he plopped down in front of the TV and flipped through the channels, but of course nothing was on but talk shows and worse. He hung in there for some time, skipping around, hoping variety might substitute for quality, but eventually he surrendered. When he turned off the TV in despair, inspiration struck.
Mom was gone. Dad was at work. And for perhaps the last time in a while, Kendra was absent. He knew that she occasionally received letters from Gavin. Back in October, while hunting for the Journal of Secrets, Seth had found two notes buried in her sock drawer. Each had contained all sorts of awesome information about dragons. But then Kendra had chosen a new hiding place. He was sure that she had received more letters, but he had not recently found an opportunity to search thoroughly.
Hurrying up the stairs, Seth felt exhilarated and a little guilty. He trotted to Kendra’s room and peeked between her bookshelf and the wall. Nothing. She used to keep the Journal of Secrets there. Like the letters, she had apparently moved it to a less obvious spot.
He started opening drawers, pawing carefully through the neatly folded clothes inside. Part of him wished he could accelerate the search by dumping her junk on the floor and kicking over furniture, but obviously it was crucial that he leave no evidence of his intrusion. Why did his sister have so many drawers, so many clothes? As the process began to feel painfully slow, he started to reassess how badly he cared about seeing the letters.
He went to the center of the room, hands on his hips, eyes scanning high and low. Kendra was no moron. Where might she have chosen to hide the letters? Where was a really tricky spot? Maybe she had taped them under her desk? Nope, nothing there. Inside the vent in the wall? Not there either. Between the pages of her mammoth dictionary? No dice.
Seth began working his way through her closet. Inside a shoebox? Inside a shoe? On a shelf? Behind and beneath some sweaters on a high shelf, he found the Journal of Secrets and the umite candle stub.
He was surprised that she still kept something so important in a fairly obvious place. He would have hidden it behind the insulation in the attic or somewhere else truly out of the way.
Unbeknownst to Kendra, Seth had found the Journal of Secrets before. He had lit the umite candle, pondered the undecipherable symbols, realized he would never know what the book said without her to translate, and carefully replaced it behind her bookcase.
Seth flipped open the journal, in case she had stashed the letters inside. Nope, just blank pages. He considered hiding the journal in a different spot to demonstrate that she needed to keep it in a smarter place. The exercise would serve as a reproachful object lesson. But of course if he did that, his sister would know he had been snooping around her room, which would only lead to trouble.