Mystics 3-Book Collection (29 page)

When Tristan turned around, Zoey’s breath
was taken away by what she saw.

His skin was light blue. Large blue veins
showed through the skin on his face and arms like tattoos, as
though his skin was paper-thin. And his eyes glowed with the
deepest sea-blue light she had ever seen.

A shiver rippled down her back. That
tingling sense she had always felt when she was around Tristan
intensified. She always assumed that the sensations had been caused
by her growing feelings for him, but now she saw her mistake—it was
because he was a mystic.

Zoey couldn’t tell, but she must have looked
scared because Tristan looked hurt when he saw that she appeared to
be frightened of him. She was confused, scared, and her heart was
crushed.

Simon bounced into view. He had strange
orange slime all over the front of his shirt, but otherwise he was
unharmed. He beamed at Tristan and smacked him on the back.

“Wow, that was awesome! You had like, super
strength, like a superhero. You’re like, like superman’s little
brother. It was
amazing
.”

Tristan didn’t look at Simon. He watched the
battle instead.

“Looks like the mystics have forgotten about
us, for the time being. We should move before they remember who put
them in those cages.”

Zoey pressed her wounded arm as she
attempted to stop the bleeding, but her eyes never left
Tristan.

“How did you do that? You
changed
—your skin changed color—and you had these veins
showing all over your body.
What
are you?”

Tristan’s shoulders tensed, but he didn’t
turn around.

When Simon noticed that Tristan wasn’t about
to answer, he spoke up.

“He’s a Mysterian—by the looks of him—a
human mystic hybrid,” said Simon amazed. “They’re like super
rare.”

Zoey watched Tristan uneasily. She
remembered seeing a blue halo around him when they had fought the
Krakenite back at the academy.

She looked at Simon angrily. “Why didn’t you
tell me?”

Simon shrugged. “I didn’t know he was a
Mysterian—I’ve never even
seen
one before now. I don’t think
anyone knows.”

“Management knows,” said Tristan.

He turned around, and his skin and eyes were
back to their normal color.

“—and a few agents.”

He looked at Zoey, but she looked quickly
away and then felt guilty.

“Tristan’s right, we need to get out of
here,” she added hastily, pretending not to be affected by
Tristan’s sudden change. “Before the mystics that are left decide
to make a meal out of us, after all.”

Pressure on her chest made it hard for her
to breathe. She looked everywhere except at Tristan and felt
increasingly guilty at avoiding his gaze. When she did look at him
again, he looked vacant and unfocused.

She heard a neigh and turned to see the fire
horse pinned in its cell by a giant snake.

“Hang on, there’s something I need to do,”
said Zoey. “See if you can unlock the doors. I’ll be right
back.”

Zoey sprinted across the chamber before they
could stop her. She skidded to a stop in front of the dead shape
shifter, and careful not to look at its face,
her
face, she
pried open its fingers and rescued her boomerang. She didn’t know
why, but she had this sudden urge to rescue the fire horse.

She made sure no other mystics were in
pursuit, and rushed to the fire horse’s cell. With all the energy
she had left, she hurled her boomerang in the direction of the
snake creature. It hit its head, and it collapsed with a thud. She
caught her rebounding boomerang as she ran closer to the fire
horse.

It backed away from her, wild-eyed. Flames
suddenly soared from the horse, and she backed away. But even
through the flames, she could see the horse was shivering. It was
terrified.

“Come,” she pleaded, her eyes watering from
the heat waves.

“Come,
please
. I won’t hurt you,” she
said in her softest voice.

What girl wouldn’t fall in love with a
fire
stallion? It pained her to see it so scared, and she
ached to help it. She knew animals had a special sixth sense. They
could sense danger, and distinguish between foes and friends. She
tried to be calm, so not to frighten the beast. And then she
thought of something.

“I’m your friend,” she said softly. “Don’t
be afraid. If you come with me, I’ll take you out of here. I’ll
take you outside into the wild where you can run free. Would you
like that?”

The horse seemed to relax. The fire around
it subsided, and for the first time she could see that its fur was
a golden-red color, like the setting sun. Its golden eyes watched
her, and somehow she knew the horse understood.

After a moment, it walked slowly towards
her.

“Good boy, that’s it. Very good—that’s a
good boy.”

The stallion lowered its head and nudged
her. Zoey jumped back, surprised at the heat—but it didn’t burn—it
was warm. She reached out and patted the side of its neck. Its
warmth soared through her hand and up her arm, comforting her like
a hot bath. The horse whinnied happily. “Come on, let’s get out of
here!”

Zoey ran towards the doors, and the fire
horse’s hooves echoed behind her. When she arrived at the doors,
she was beaming.

“Why did you rescue the horse?” asked Simon.
“We don’t need glue?”

“Because horses shouldn’t be caged,” she
said disapprovingly. “They should be free.”

The fire stallion neighed loudly as though
approving what Zoey had said. She smiled even more broadly when the
horse flared its nostrils at Simon.

“We can’t get the doors open,” began
Tristan. He still avoided looking at Zoey, and she felt ashamed
again.

Simon kicked the doors angrily.

“It’s useless, even with Tristan’s superhero
strength. We need a stick of dynamite to blow up the doors. You
wouldn’t happen to have one on you, would you?”

But then the fire horse brushed past Simon,
and he jumped back in alarm.

“Hey! I’m sorry about the glue thing,
honest.”

The horse ignored him and made for the
doors.

“What’s he doing?”

The horse stood in front of the doors and
then turned around to face them. The air moved, and in a flash the
stallion’s body was ablaze in giant flames of gold and red.

Zoey knew what it was about to do.

“Stand back!” she called. She pulled Simon
and Tristan out of the way.

The stallion lowered its head, raised its
hindquarters into the air, and kicked out with a powerful blow. The
doors burst open in a show of red and orange flames.

Simon beamed. “I love horses. I was just
joking about the glue, you know.”

“Hurry!” said Zoey, as the blast from the
doors had suddenly brought the remaining mystics attention back to
them.

With the fire stallion leading the way,
Zoey, Simon, and Tristan ran out the doors.

“Wait!” called Zoey. “We can’t leave the
doors unlocked. We can’t let the hostiles get out. Think of what
they would do. We need to lock them back in.”

Tristan took his recycled chair legs and
slipped them through the doors’ metal handles.

“There’s no way they can get out now.”

“They’ll probably all kill each other
anyway,” said Simon.

“It’ll be a big pile of mystic stew in a few
hours. Bon
appétit
!” he called
through the crack in the doors.

With a thunderous crash, the mystics threw
themselves at the doors. Zoey held her breath. But the doors held
and the mystics were prisoners once again.

Their three metal compacts still lay on the
ground outside the doors. Zoey picked them up and flipped them over
in her hands.

“They’re not even broken. I guess the
mystery man didn’t think we’d survive. Mistake number one.”

She handed Tristan and Simon their DSM’s.
“Never underestimate the little people.”

“Can’t wait to see the look on his ugly face
when he sees me again,” said Simon. He kissed his DSM. “It’ll be a
Kodak freaking moment.”

The horse neighed again and scratched the
floor with its front leg. It looked at Zoey, its nostrils flaring,
and then cocked its head towards the stairs.

Zoey looked at her friends. “Let’s get out
of here.”

“See you later, suckers!” yelled Simon
through the doors.

Tristan and Simon ran up the stairs, but
Zoey stayed behind, calming and helping the horse balance its
hooves on the slippery steps. Finally, after some effort, they
reached the first floor, and the horse galloped down the main hall
towards the front doors with its head held high.

“Give me a second, okay? I’ll be right
back!” shouted Zoey.

She sprinted after the horse. Even though
she was still out of breath, she ran all the way to the front,
where the horse waited anxiously for her.

“Don’t let any Sevenths or agents see you,
okay,” she said to the horse breathlessly.

“Try to
blend
in as much as you
can—the Mutes will probably just think you’re a normal horse
anyway—I hope they do. If you go through the forest to the open
fields on the other side, you’ll find a large farm and some
stables. I saw them when I first came here. You’ll be safer
there.”

She pushed open the doors.

With a swish of its tail, the fire stallion
took off in a blur and galloped through the grounds. It neighed
what Zoey believed was a
thank you
, and then disappeared
into the forest.

She watched the spot for a moment—half
wishing for the horse would come back—but when it didn’t, she
slipped back into the main hall.

Tristan and Simon stood by the mirrors,
anxiously waiting for her. When she reached them, she grabbed her
boomerang and saw that her arm was still covered in blood.

“You’re bleeding.”

Tristan ripped the bottom of his t-shirt and
wrapped it around Zoey’s arm before she could protest.

“Thank you,” she said, avoiding his eyes and
looking everywhere else but at him.

She felt more nervous around him, now that
she had discovered he was a Mysterian. And she could tell that the
more uncomfortable
she
felt—the more pain showed up on his
face—which of course made her feel even worse that she had in the
first place. She wasn’t sure what her feelings were for Tristan.
But one thing was for sure—Mysterian or not—he was still her
friend
. And right now, she needed him more than ever.

“So, are we ready?” she said, breaking the
tense silence.

“This is going to get really ugly. You can
still stay here if you want.”

“We’re ready,” chorused Simon and
Tristan.

“I just hope we’re not too late,” said
Zoey.

She grinned. “Our mystery man is in for a
shock when sees us again. I hope I’ll be the one to smack him
first.”

They stood in front of the mirror-port to
London. Zoey reached out and typed on the keypad:
Headquarters,
Knightsbridge, London, England
.

The mirror swirled. The green light flicked
on with a
pop
, and the three of them stepped through and
vanished.

L
ights flashed
behind Zoey’s eyelids. Her body had been stretched and pulled like
elastic. And just before she was actually sick, she felt the air
move around her, and her feet found solid ground. The nausea
dissipated, and when she opened her eyes her jaw fell open.

She stood in a department store, a very
expensive
looking department store. It was ornate with
painstakingly restored turn of the century decor. Polished floors
gleamed like gold. Row upon row of exquisite designer shops lined
the perimeter of a giant room. She could smell fresh baked bread.
There was a hallway with gourmet fruits and vegetables, cheeses,
fish, poultry, meats, and a large bakery with mountains of
multicolored cupcakes in the windows. Entire walls were decorated
with a mosaic of colors. It was gigantic, the size of a football
field. There was a large central escalator, decorated with Egyptian
motifs, and other floors peeked from above.

Masses of people strolled along the ground
floor, buying, eating, and just wandering through the hundreds of
shops. No one seemed to notice that she had just magically appeared
inside the department store. Behind her, was a wall with a large
floor to ceiling mirror—the mirror-port. But something was wrong.
This wasn’t Headquarters.

As she looked around, the air moved behind
her, and Tristan and Simon appeared at her side.

“Dudes, where the heck are we?” said
Simon.

He looked at Zoey. “Are you sure you typed
the name in right? We’re like in a store or something, and there’re
like
thousands
of Mutes staring at us.”

Zoey shrunk back against the wall. “Yes, I
think so.” But she wasn’t. She started to second-guess herself.
Maybe she
had
written it wrong?

Simon’s eyes widened. “Whoa! Is that a candy
store? It’s massive. You think we have time for a little bite?”

Zoey looked around. “I don’t understand—I
thought I typed it in right.”

“You did, I watched you do it,” said
Tristan. The passersby eyed them suspiciously.

“There must be a logical explanation why we
landed here. I’m sure we’re not very far from Headquarters. It has
to be somewhere near.”

“How do we find it? We don’t even know where
we are?”

A group of posh looking girls wearing
expensive designer clothes giggled and talked loudly as they walked
by. Their arms were full of shopping bags that said
Parrods
.

And then the girls stopped, whispered to
each other, and pointed at them with appalled looks on their faces.
Zoey hated these types of girls—the ones that spent their parent’s
money like it grew on trees, buying everything with a label simply
because they
could
.