Mystics 3-Book Collection (47 page)

They flattened themselves against the wall,
and slowly Tristan peered around the corner.

“There’s no one in the hallway. Let’s
go.”

They sneaked across the main hall and ran
down the next corridor. They slowed down to catch their
breaths.

“Well, that was exciting,” panted Simon.
“What do we do now? My brain could only do one break-in at a
time.”

Zoey laughed. “Please take that ridiculous
mustache off. I can’t take you seriously with it, Agent
Bond
.”

“Seriously?” said Simon. “And I thought the
ladies would like it. Don’t you think it makes me more macho? I
thought the ladies liked a little bit of fur!”

“No,” said Tristan. He turned to Zoey. “What
do you want to do now? The old man will probably have alerted the
Agency by now.”

“If he can
find
the button to press,”
said Simon, pulling off his mustache and pocketing it.

“We can’t hide you in the Wander Inn,”
continued Tristan, “Aria will be expecting it. Maybe we could go
hide in the nearest village until things calm down—”

“No. I need to prove to everyone that I
didn’t
do this.”

“How do you plan on doing that?” asked
Simon. “They wouldn’t even listen to us.”

Zoey peered around the corner. “I need to
speak to Agent Franken first. He’s the only one who knows how to
find the antidote. I think if I can speak to him I might be able to
figure something out. I need to clear my name. I won’t get another
shot at this. The time is now.”

Tristan nodded. “Okay, we’re coming with
you.”

They sprinted down the corridor.

“HEY! STOP!”

Agent Ward and Director Martin came running
towards them from the other direction.

“Stay where you are!” bellowed Agent Ward.
Her face was the color of a beet.

“Hurry!” yelled Zoey.

They sprinted down the corridor away from
their pursuers, rounded a corner, and arrived at a great metal door
with a sign that read
Militia and Defense, Room 1B

“Quick! Get in! Get in!” Zoey held the door
open. Tristan and Simon slipped through. She bolted it shut behind
them.

“We’re definitely going to get expelled
after this,” said Simon. “My parents are going to disown me.”

“You’re making this much worse for yourself,
Zoey.” Director Martin’s voice came from the other side of the
door. “Open this door right now!”

She pounded on the door.

“Zoey!” called Agent Ward. “You open this
door at once! You hear me?”

“I have a feeling this isn’t going to end
well,” said Tristan, as he leaned against the door.

Part of Zoey wanted to open the door. But
she knew that the only way to prove that she was not responsible
for the attacks was to find the antidote and the culprit. She
already had a pretty good idea who was behind the attacks, but
first she needed to find the antidote.

Zoey ignored the pounding and shouting, and
turned away from the door. She crossed the room in near silence;
the only sound was the tread of their boots and the muffled voices
from behind the door. She saw the large ornate white mirror and her
stomach twisted. Instead of the beautiful gleaming crystal-like
mirror she remembered, it was a diseased, soiled and disgruntled
mirror. It stood in a puddle of black liquid, the oil still
dripping slowly from its center, like a bloody wound that couldn’t
heal. It was almost as though the mirror was alive, but now it was
slowly dying of some horrible disease.

Agent Franken sat in his glass and metal
cubicle at the back of the room. He was still wearing his HAZMAT
suit and peering through a sophisticated-looking microscope. Paper
and small square mirror shards covered his desk. The mirrors were
clear and hadn’t been infected by the black oil. As Zoey stepped
forward, she could see traces of the black oil on his fingers.

“Agent Franken,” said Zoey in a clear
voice.

“I’m busy,” replied Agent Franken, still
looking through his microscope. “What do you want?”

Zoey shared a worried look with Simon and
Tristan. “I want to help the Agency,” she said, and then moved
closer. “I want to find the antidote.”

Agent Franken shot up from his seat and
nearly fell. His eyes widened at the sight of Zoey. “You! You!
You!”

“Her, her, her—ouch!” said Simon, as Tristan
elbowed him.

Agent Franken stared at Zoey like she was
the next best thing to discovering butter.

“You’re the girl, the one they say is
conspiring with the enemy!” he said in a squeaky voice. Then he
frowned. “I thought they had locked you up! How did you get in
here?” He looked around as though expecting to see someone
else.

“They let me out for a bathroom break,” she
lied.

She hoped he was deaf enough so that he
couldn’t hear Agent Ward’s voice still yelling through the chamber
door. “And I thought I’d come to see you before going back. You
see, I think you can help me—us.”

“And how do you figure that?” Dark circles
marked Agent Franken’s troubled eyes. His face was drawn, and he
looked much older. He stared at her just a little too long.

“I’m very busy at the moment. Not only are
we faced with more illegals crossing into our world, but also the
global infrastructure that allows humans and mystics to coexist is
under threat itself. A breakdown of this carefully maintained
system could erupt into worldwide chaos and could eventually lead
to the apocalypse. So, if you children don’t mind I have more
important things to do.” Agent Franken returned to his work.

“Do you think I poisoned the mirrors?” asked
Zoey. “Do you think I’m responsible for all this?”

Agent Franken looked up and sighed. “No, but
I think you’re hiding something. I saw it on your face.”

“Maybe, but it’s not what you think. I only
want to help.”

Agent Franken wrinkled his brow. “Even if
you wanted to help, how do you plan on getting the antidote? The
mirrors don’t work. We’re stranded here. And you can’t use public
transportation, it’s too risky. You’ll be killed. It’s
impossible.”

Zoey knew that she needed to tell him the
truth. He wouldn’t be very forthcoming unless she did. And if she
were to find the antidote, she would need his help.

“It is true,” said Zoey. “I am hiding
something. I wasn’t ready to share it…but now I see that I don’t
have a choice. I think I can help because I can manipulate the
mirrors myself. I’ve already done it twice.”

Zoey thought Agent Franken might laugh, but
instead he looked at her with great wonder.

“I have heard rumors that a select few
Sevenths were capable of manipulating the mirrors, but I didn’t
believe them. You can do it? You can manipulate the mirrors?”

Zoey nodded. “Yes. Yes, I can.”

“I wonder…” said Agent Franken. He swung off
his chair awkwardly and moved towards Zoey to examine her more
closely. “Can you show me how you do it?”

Blood rushed to Zoey’s face. “Well, I’m not
really good at it yet. And it doesn’t always work.”

Agent Franken looked up at Zoey. “But
how
does it work? How do you do it?”

Zoey shifted uncomfortably under his
scrutiny.

“I open the DSM. And then I concentrate
really hard on a place that has an anchor point…” she hesitated,
“…but then I was able to mirror-port into Aria’s kitchen—I know
there isn’t an anchor there. I don’t know how that happened. So you
see, I’m not very good at it.”

“On the contrary,” said Agent Franken.
“You’re very good at it.”

“I am?”

“Yes, because you can
create
your
own
anchors
.”

Simon and Tristan looked at each other.

“She can what?” said Simon.

Zoey stared down at the little man, not sure
she had heard him correctly. “Did you just say that I—that I can
create
anchors?”

“That’s what I said. That’s what
mirror-manipulators can do - they don’t need stable anchor points
to mirror-port. But why didn’t you tell Management about your
abilities? You could have been cleared about the black oil.”

“Because of my mother.”

Agent Franken watched her for a moment but
didn’t say anything. Then he waddled slowly towards the large
broken mirror. His suit constricted his movements as though he was
moving underwater. He bent down slowly and drew a sample of the oil
into a syringe. Then he made his slow way back to his cubicle and
climbed up onto his chair.

Zoey realized that it was true. She could
create her own anchor points. It was the only explanation that made
sense. Both Simon and Tristan looked at her with awe. She felt
elated. She wasn’t the Drifter anymore - she was special. It felt
amazing. But there was still something she needed to do.

She hurried over to Agent Franken, who was
pouring drops of black oil into a small vial.

“
Agent Franken,” she said,
“will you help me
find the antidote? What do I look
for?”

“Forget about that! It’s too dangerous.”

“I can’t,” said Zoey. “If I can find the
antidote, then I can fix this. I can fix the mirrors and bring back
order to the Agency. And then I can clear my name.”

She swallowed. “Please, Agent Franken, what
can you tell me about it? At least let me try to find it. Just tell
me what I need, please. Will you help me?”

Agent Franken looked up and sighed. “From
what I can tell, the virus is of mystic-origin. The components are
not of this dimension. It has been cleverly designed to resist all
my serums. What I do know is that the virus originated right
here.”

He pointed to the large mirror, “While I was
away someone came in and infected it with this vile black oil. The
cure would have to originate from the source itself—before it
became a poison. I would need a vial of that original component,
and then I believe I could reverse the damage. Simply by creating a
bacteria.”

Zoey remembered something else. “And what
about the borders?”

“It’s the same with the borders. The borders
are controlled by a substance like the one that controls the
mirrors. It’s made from the same mystic source. Think of the
borders as a giant mirrored sphere that reflects or echoes any
mystic senses
away
from the Hives and makes us invisible to
them. The infection spread from here to the borders. Everything is
connected, you see. Whoever did this knew exactly what they were
doing. Every hostile mystic in our world will be able to find us
now, and I’m afraid it will be very soon. We’ve never been very
popular with them.”

“So, hypothetically, a sample from the
original source could cure the mirrors and the borders?” asked
Zoey.

“Hypothetically, yes.”

“So, all we need is a sample from the
original black oil. We create an antidote and then all our problems
are solved,” said Simon, seeming pleased. “Doesn’t seem too
hard.”

Agent Franken shook his head. “You don’t
understand, young man; it’s not that simple. You cannot find the
original source because it would
only
exist in the Nexus.
The M-Mat is mystic technology that we
took
thousands of
years ago. The only thing that could destroy it would be an element
conceived by the same substances that created the technology in the
first place…
in
the Nexus. Agents cannot cross into that
world without meeting their doom. That is why it cannot be done.
I’m afraid we can’t do anything about it, we are
doomed
.”

“But, hypothetically, there’s still a chance
if we get our hands on the source,” said Zoey.

“No, there isn’t. This is madness. Haven’t
you been listening to what I’ve been saying?” said Agent
Franken.

Zoey smiled. “Give me a vial.”

Agent Franken shook his head but handed Zoey
a small glass vial with a rubber top.

“I don’t know why I’m giving you this. You
can’t enter the Nexus, child. You will die.”

“I don’t have to,” said Zoey. “You are
right, the virus probably originated in the Nexus…but it’s not
there anymore. It’s in our world now, and I’m going to get you the
sample you need for your antidote.”

Agent Franken studied her. “I’m not going to
ask you how you came to this conclusion. I admire your courage,
truly, but this isn’t a job for a child. You might be different
from the rest of us;
clearly
you are, but what you are
planning is suicide. Perhaps you believe that your abilities will
give you a fighting chance, but the Agency won’t let you go. I’m
afraid they’ll put you back into lockup when they find you here. As
much as it sounds unfair, you must abide by the rules and
regulations until this can be sorted out.”

“Never cared much about rules,” said Zoey.
“And I won’t get you into trouble, Agent Franken, I promise. Thank
you for the vial.”

She reached over his desk and grabbed a
single mirror shard. “Can I have this too?”

“Sure,” said Agent Franken, looking puzzled,
“but that’s an
ordinary
mirror, there’s no M-Mat activated
in it. You can’t use it. I’m afraid the virus corrupted every
single DSM.”

Zoey smiled. “It’s fine. Thank you.”

She looked up at Simon and Tristan. “You
guys ready for another trip? It won’t be easy, and the most
probable outcome is that we’ll get killed.”

“I love it when you talk adventure,” said
Simon, his eyes wide. “Gets me all tingly inside.”

Tristan’s eyes were troubled. “You sure
about this, Zoey? Do you really know what you’re doing?”

Zoey narrowed her eyes. “I think I do - and
that’s good enough for me. I have to try. I can’t do nothing.
There’s no time to waste. You heard Agent Franken - the hostiles
will attack soon. The longer we wait, the worse it’s going to get.”
She smiled at her friends. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you. Come
on!”

The three of them ran back to the chamber
door.