Mystics 3-Book Collection (18 page)

And then, like a light switching on in her
brain, she knew—the cat-faced woman was responsible.

A chill washed over her. She had overheard
them plotting. And although the agency didn’t believe her,
apparently the cat-faced woman hadn’t taken any chances. She had
found Zoey out and had released these mystics in the hopes of
killing her.

But her plan had failed.

A cold sweat trickled down her back—sooner
or later the cat-faced woman would try again. Who knew what sort of
evil mystic she would unleash next—or when? One thing was for
certain, they would be much worse than the Krakenites.

Zoey went to work. She knelt down beside an
elderly man with a nasty cut on his face. He was lying on his back,
his eyes were closed, and she couldn’t tell if he was breathing.
Gently, she dabbed a towel on his wounds. He had a great red stain
on his shirt—he was bleeding out. She took another towel and
pressed it against his stomach. Tears swelled in her eyes—this was
all her fault.

“You…you…” said the man. His voice was
ragged. Blood seeped from the corners of his mouth.

“Don’t talk,” said Zoey gently. “You need to
save your energy. Help is coming.”

She gave him a reassuring smile, feeling
worse and worse by the minute. Her eyes burned, and she blinked
until the wetness dried up. She didn’t want the man to see her
cry.

“Your hair,” said the man, his voice was
almost a whisper. “I knew a woman once with hair just like
yours.”

The hairs on the back of Zoey’s neck stood
up. “What? What did you say?”

She leaned forward. Maybe she had
misunderstood?

The man smiled. “I had never seen the
like—
fire-red
—just like yours. And you have the same green
eyes. How peculiar.”

Zoey lost her voice. When she found it
again, she asked. “Who—who was she?”

The man coughed up some blood. His eyes
opened wide for a moment, and then he lay still. For a horrible
moment she thought he had died, but then his lips moved, and he
spoke.

“Her name was Elizabeth.”

“Where is she?” Zoey couldn’t mask the
desperation in her voice. She felt like she was about to jump out
of her skin.

“Where can I find her? Please! Please tell
me where she is!” her voice rose, and she fought to control her
nerves. She crumpled the bloody towel with trembling hands, her
heart suddenly slamming against her chest.

Between coughs, the man said, “Troll City,
Louisiana.”

And then his mouth fell open. A single long
breath escaped him. His eyes stared at the ceiling, glazed over,
and he didn’t speak again.

E
lizabeth…

Zoey hadn’t slept a wink—the name haunted
her. Was this mysterious woman her mother? She had waited all her
life for a clue as to who she was. What the man had told her before
he died
had
to be true—
she
had never seen anyone with
the same hair color. Even dyed, it was never the same
fire-red
—the man’s words exactly. You had to be born with
it.

After harassing the agents for five days,
Zoey finally discovered the man’s name. He was Oliver Scott. He was
a retired agent from New York who had been visiting an old friend
at the hive in Toronto. The friend, a Mr. Dean Daigle, was still
alive and worked in
Inter-dimension trade, communications &
transportation
, room 2A.

With Mr. Daigle’s help, Zoey had found out
that Oliver Scott had been a widower, with no children or any
living relatives, even Sevenths. He appeared to have had no living
friends except for Mr. Daigle. She had no one else to ask about the
mysterious Elizabeth. But her hopes were quickly deflated when she
asked him about her.

“I’m sorry dear, I don’t know any woman by
that name or with red hair. I never heard him say that name, ever.
I’m terribly sorry,” he had told her.

Zoey’s mood darkened. She had been so close
to discovering something about her past, and now it was slipping
away like an old memory. She meandered around the hive like the
living dead—her body moved, but her spirit was elsewhere, dull and
unresponsive. She couldn’t concentrate on her studies without
imagining what her mother might have looked like. Was she pretty?
Tall? Skinny and small like her?

Tristan and Simon were worried that she was
about to have a meltdown. They couldn’t understand how she
felt—they had real families—she had never known hers. She pretended
to have headaches so they wouldn’t feel sorry for her.

The dying man’s face haunted her, too. No
one had ever died in her arms before—it had been a surreal
experience and had left her feeling cold and numb. She remembered
that his body had stayed warm after he’d gone. He had looked
peaceful, as though he was sleeping.

Zoey had been restless for five straight
days when she decided that there was only one thing left to do.
She
had to go to Troll City, Louisiana.

Although Tristan and Simon had tried to grab
her attention after class, she said nothing to them and approached
Agent Vargas’s desk. She gave him her best smile.

“Uh, Agent Vargas,” she said. “May I ask you
something?”

He was typing on his computer and didn’t
look up. “Yes, Zoey, what is it?”

“I’d like permission to go to Troll City,
sir.”

Agent Vargas’s fingers slipped on his
keyboard. “What? Troll City? Where did you hear such a name?”

“From Agent Oliver Scott,” said Zoey. “It
won’t be for long, I only need a few hours. See, that’s where he
said my mo—where he said the woman who looked like me is. I’d like
to go look for her. I need to know where I come from—who I am.”

Agent Vargas sighed heavily and gave Zoey a
painful smile. “I understand your desire to look for this woman,
truly I do, but you
can’t
go to Troll City. It’s
impossible.”

Zoey’s smile quickly vanished

“What do you mean? Why not? Why can’t I go?”
her voice rose, and she didn’t bother hiding her anger. She hadn’t
expected him to say no.

“Because it’s too dangerous,” answered Agent
Vargas. “It’s a mystic town, and a very treacherous one at that.
Humans are
not
welcome there. The mystics chose to settle in
that area to be
away
from humans. We have to respect the
rules of our treaty, and this is one of them. Troll City is off
limits. That is all.”

Zoey couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“But she’s there—I
have
to find out if she’s my real mother.
You can’t keep that from me—”

“It’s impossible. I’m sorry, Zoey, but you
cannot go. No one can.”

“What if I went with an agent? I’m sure
Agent Barnes would come with me.
He
would want to help me
find my mother—I know he would.”

Agent Vargas shook his head solemnly.
“You’re not listening to what I’m trying to tell you. No one, not
even an agent, is allowed to set foot in Troll City. If fact, I
believe that no agent or human has
ever
entered the city.
Mr. Scott was dying—he was confused. He wasn’t conscious of what he
was saying. I’m just sorry he made you believe some story about a
woman—”

“It wasn’t a story,” blurted Zoey. She
frowned.

“He was telling the truth.”

“Well, I see that my reasoning with you is
pointless,” said Agent Vargas.

“Believe what you will, but forget about
Troll City. Now, off you go and don’t mention it to me again.” He
dismissed her.

Tears brimmed around her eyes. She stood
there for a moment before she stormed out of the room. She ran past
Tristan and Simon without looking at them. She couldn’t let her
only clue to her mother’s identity slip away. She
would
find
a way.

She gathered her wits and slowed down so
that Tristan and Simon could catch up.

“So, I’m guessing he said no,” said
Simon.

“I knew it was a mistake to ask him. I mean,
as little kids our parents told us scary bedtime stories about
Troll City. It’s the creepiest place on earth—why would you want to
go there? Mystics
eat
children in that city. They don’t care
about the treaty—they make their own rules. You’d have to be insane
to set foot in that town. I wouldn’t go there, even if they paid me
a million dollars.”

“No one is asking you to go.” Zoey marched
down to the main entrance and pushed open the front doors. The cool
air felt great on her hot face.

Tristan ran after her. “I know you’re mad
Zoey, but be reasonable. Zoey!”

He grabbed her hand and turned her around to
face him. “Wait a second, will you? You have to stop this. You’re
obsessing about something that might not even be true. Just stop a
second and think it through, okay?”

Zoey wiggled out of his grasp. “It
is
true. I know it’s true. I don’t care if you don’t believe me. You
don’t understand. You can’t understand. Both of you guys have
families—you have parents that love and support you. You can’t
understand what it’s like to grow up alone. All I ever wanted was a
family, a real one. I need to do this for
me
.”

Tristan’s expression contracted. “Need to
do…
what
exactly? What are you saying?”

He watched her for a moment, and then the
realization slowly appeared on his face.

“No. Please tell me you’re not planning on
going? Zoey, that’s insane. I won’t let you.”

“Go? Go where exactly?” said Simon looking
paler than usual.

Zoey turned away from them. “I’m not asking
you to come with me. I wouldn’t want you guys to get in trouble.
But I’m going. I’m going tonight.”

Simon pulled the hair on the top of his
head. “Oh, man. Oh, man. Oh man. This is wild! This is nuts! I
think I’m breaking out in hives!”

Tristan took Zoey’s hand, but she pulled it
away. He watched her anxiously.

“Zoey, you can’t be serious. Please, think
about this for a moment. Just think about what you’re saying—”

“I’ve been thinking about it for five days,”
said Zoey. “I need to do this. I’m going to Troll City, and no
one’s going to stop me.”

Tristan surveyed her silently for a moment.
“Then I’m coming with you.”

“What!” Simon wailed. “Do you hear
yourselves? Both of you have lost your minds. You’re crazy, nuts,
spazzed, off the wagon, lobotomized. You’re both completely
insane.”

“You coming with us?” asked Tristan
casually.

Simon responded immediately, “Of course I
am.”

The light of adventure burned in his eyes,
and he smiled. “This is the kind of stuff that’ll make men out of
us. Maybe I’ll come back with real facial hair? Women love
that.”

Zoey smiled at her friends. “If things go
wrong, don’t blame me.”

“We won’t,” Tristan and Simon chorused
together.

“You can still say no—” she began. “—I
wouldn’t be upset. I would totally understand.”

“We’re coming with you.”

Tristan fell silent for a second and looked
at Zoey. “You’ll need someone to watch your back,” he said finally.
“—And Simon can watch mine.”

“So who’s going to watch my back?” said
Simon, looking behind him.

“We both will,” answered Zoey.

She lowered her voiced and looked around,
“You think you can meet me at midnight tonight in the main
hall?”

“Yes,” said Tristan.

“Okay,” answered Simon. “My dad’s going to
kill me if he catches me using my mirror-port in the middle of the
night.”

Tristan raised an eyebrow. “So don’t let him
catch you.”

With Tristan and Simon watching her back,
what could possibly go wrong? Zoey felt certain they would find
Elizabeth.

“So it’s settled then,” she said, smiling.
“See you at midnight.”

There was added security after the Krakenite
attacks, so Zoey had sneaked back into the hive before lockdown and
had hidden in room 1D. If an agent came by, she would use the
excuse that she had homework to catch up on. To make her story more
believable, she logged on and did actual work until the numbers at
the bottom right of her screen said
12:00 AM
.

With her gold boomerang fastened securely to
the bracelet around her right wrist, she logged off and quietly
closed the door behind her. Holding her breath, she tiptoed on the
marble floors and along the dark corridors. She shifted her weight
carefully so she wouldn’t make a sound with her sneakers.

The moon shone through the tall windows and
turned the walls and floors to shades of silver and blue. The
darkness and eerie silence were gloomy.

Footsteps echoed down the hall.

She pressed herself flat against the wall
and waited, her heart banging in her ears. The footsteps neared.
She stopped breathing and stole a peek.

A young agent patrolled the hallway. He had
the determined expression of a rookie who took this job very
seriously. Simon and Tristan would be stepping out of the mirrors
in the main hall any second now—the agent would see them. It would
be her fault if they got caught. They might even get suspended. She
needed to distract the agent.

She ran back down the hall and slipped
through the door of Room 1D. She hurried over to the weapons table
and grabbed a metal ball for one of the slingshots. Then she
sprinted back to the door and peeked through to make sure the young
agent was still patrolling the hall near the mirrors.

She pitched the tiny ball down the opposite
corridor. It hit door 1B with an echo. Then it bounced off the
adjacent walls, making even more of a racket as it rolled down the
passageway.

Zoey hid behind the door and watched the
agent charge into room 1B. While he was occupied, she sneaked down
the corridor in the other direction—just in time to see Tristan and
Simon step out of a mirror.