Mystics 3-Book Collection (64 page)

“Guys? Why does Claudia need escorts to use
the mirror-ports?” A bad feeling formed in the pit of Zoey’s
stomach.

“Because
she’s
the one who poisoned
the mirrors,” said Simon, gravely.

Zoey’s tongue was thick in her mouth. “What?
Are you serious?”

“Very.” Simon turned to his friends and
lowered his voice.

“Apparently, Mrs. Dupont made her an offer
she couldn’t refuse.”

“What offer?” asked Tristan.

“She offered her Zoey.”

Zoey was speechless. She watched as Claudia
stood with her head down, not wanting to meet anyone’s eyes. Even
though she had never liked Claudia, Zoey felt sorry for her.

“There’s has to be more to the story,” said
Zoey. “Tristan, did you know about this?”

Tristan shook his head. “No idea.” He shoved
his hands in his pockets and looked extremely uncomfortable.

Zoey turned to Simon. “Tell me what you
know.”

“Well, from the conversation between
Directors Johnson and Hicks that I was eavesdropping on
earlier—yes, I have
many
talents—Mrs. Dupont and Claudia had
been chatting online for a while. They became friends, and Claudia
told her practically everything she wanted to hear. Then one day
they met, and Mrs. Dupont told her that if she poured the black oil
into the main mirror-port source—the big mirror in Agent Franken’s
chamber, right—then they could blame Zoey for it and have her
expelled. Apparently, Claudia had no idea what the substance was.
She did it because she wanted you gone. She
hates
you
because Tristan likes you and not her.”

Zoey ignored his last comment. The truth was
harsh, that
she
was the reason that Claudia had infected the
mirrors. But now the pieces from the puzzle were fitting together.
It was all making sense.

She glanced at Tristan, who avoided her
gaze. “So, Claudia poisoned the mirrors to get rid of me. Wow, I
guess she really
did
hate me.”

“Well, whatever her reasons, it cost her her
place at the Agency,” said Simon. He shook his head sadly. “She’ll
never be an agent. She’s banned for life.”

Zoey watched as Claudia and her escorts
disappeared through a square mirror. “Where are they taking her, do
you know?

Simon shrugged. “I know there’s a
correctional facility for delinquent Sevenths. It’s in one of our
neighborhoods, but I don’t know where exactly.”

“You know,” said Zoey, “I never liked her.
But I never wished for this to happen. I feel sorry for her.” It
was hard not to feel guilty.

“Don’t blame yourself for what she did,”
said Tristan. “This was all her doing. Don’t forget, the entire
Agency nearly collapsed because of her. I wouldn’t feel too
sorry.”

“But I
do
feel sorry, a lot sorry.”
Zoey sighed. “She didn’t realize what she was doing. If she had
known, she would never have done it. I’m sure of it.”

“I guess we’ll never know now,” said
Simon.

The music stopped abruptly, and a
high-pitched screech from a microphone blasted throughout the main
hall. Zoey gritted her teeth.

“Uh…can everyone hear me?” Instead of his
usual plaid suit, Director Hicks wore a black T-shirt with a large
green alien head on it. The words,
A-LEE-ANS are among us!
were written in bright orange below it. Director Hicks’ face was
beet-red.

“Good. Well, I would like to welcome all of
you to this very special celebration.” He paused, looking around at
all the faces. “Tonight, in honor of those who fought bravely and
relentlessly to save us all, to those special few to whom we owe
our lives, I will be giving out two of our most prestigious medals
- the Shields of Valor.”

The crowd gasped in awe and then clapped in
excitement.

“Yes, shields are rarely given to agents,”
continued Director Hicks. Zoey could see two silver metal badges in
his hands.

“The shield is given to an individual as a
mark of honor. It denotes heroism and outstanding service to the
Agencies.”

He puffed out his enormous chest proudly.
“The first Shield of Valor goes to—Agent Franken.”

The crowd clapped, and Agent Franken waddled
up to the platform in his Hazmat suit. Someone had planted a red
bow on his back. He faced Director Hicks with the tiniest of
smiles.

“Agent Franken,” said Director Hicks, “I
applaud you for your dedication and service to the Agencies. It is
with great honor that I award you with the Shield of Valor for
conjuring up the
antidote
that
saved
our mirror-ports
and our borders. We are lucky to have such a scientist in our Hive
and in our family.”

He reached over and pinned a silver shield
to Agent Franken’s chest. Agent Franken beamed, and his face
gradually reddened as the crowd clapped louder and cheered him
on.

Zoey leaned closer to her friends. “There’s
still time to back out, you know—”

“I’m not backing out,” said Tristan.

“We’re in this together,” agreed Simon.

Zoey watched her friends for a moment and
said nothing. She watched Agent Franken make his way awkwardly down
the platform. He looked less like an honored agent and more like an
astronaut walking on the moon.

Director Hicks cleared his throat. “And now,
our second Shield of Valor is awarded to a young girl who’s shown
the Agency great devotion and undying courage. This young girl put
her own life at risk to save all of us. Zoey St. John, please come
forward.”

The crowed turned around, searching for
Zoey.

Director Hicks raised his voice. “Zoey? Zoey
St. John?” His smiled faded. “Has anyone seen Zoey St. John?”

The crowd searched for Zoey, but she and her
friends had disappeared.

Z
oey, Tristan, and
Simon stood behind a large stone wall.

They listened and waited. Zoey poked her
head out carefully and looked around.

“How many are there?” whispered Simon.

“Two guards,” answered Zoey.

She looked at Tristan. “You still want to do
this?”

Tristan clenched his jaw, and a thick vein
throbbed on his forehead like he was having a massive migraine. He
had been silent since they had arrived, and Zoey wished she knew
what he was thinking.

“I’m doing this,” he said. “I
have
to
do this. I know it’s a little extreme, but if you were me, if you
were Mysterian, you would understand.”

“No, I
do
get it. Trust me,” said
Zoey with conviction.

She could see the same hurt in his eyes that
she had seen when they had first witnessed the horror beyond the
walls a month ago.

“Slavery is wrong, no matter if you’re human
or mystic. I’m with you all the way on this, Tristan, a hundred
percent.”

“We both are,” said Simon. “Besides, any
excuse to bring havoc into this creepy place. I’m all over it.” He
hesitated. “Hang on…I’m missing something…where’s my…? Ah-ha!”

He reached inside his pocket, pulled out
what looked like a dead brown caterpillar and pressed it firmly
under his nose. He smiled. “Have to be prepared—you know what I
mean?”

“Not really, but if you’re planning on
scaring them, then yes,” laughed Zoey.

She felt her chest ripple in excitement.
“Okay, Agent Bond, you’re up. You know what to do?”

Simon cracked his knuckles. “Of course I
know what to do. I was born for things like this. Watch and learn,
people,
watch
and
learn
.”

He straightened his jacket and raked his
hair with his fingers. Then he stepped away from their hiding place
and made for the entrance through the great wall to the Alpha
village. When he got ten feet away from the guards, he stopped and
gave them his best smile.

One of the guards, a beefy-looking man with
a flat, square head and a face that was squished like a bulldog’s,
brandished his long sword and marched forward. He pointed the tip
towards Simon’s throat.

“Are you suicidal, kid? Or just stupid?”

“Maybe a little bit of both, eh?” rasped a
second guard in a throaty voice. He was short and stocky with thick
brows, which gave him a permanent scowl. He looked like a
Neanderthal who was clad in a military outfit two sizes too
small.

“Only a really stupid kid agent would be
dumb enough to walk right into the gates of our city. Tell me, kid,
do you really want to die?”

The first guard frowned. “What’s that on
your face? Is that…is that a mustache?” He and the second guard
shared a look and then doubled over in laughter.

“Are you two finished?” said Simon, his
voice especially cool. “I don’t have all night. There’s a party I
have to get back to.”

He smoothed out his mustache.

“I feel sorry for you, kid,” said the second
guard.

“You think no one can recognize you with
that
thing
under your nose?” he laughed. “Even with your
disguise, we can see that you are agent scum. It’s been a pleasure,
kid, truly. We had a good laugh, but we’re still going to kill
you.”

The first guard wiped the tears from his
eyes. “We’re going to cut you up into little agent liver bits.
You’re dying tonight.”

He turned to his colleague. “You wanna kill
him, or shall I do the honors?”

“I’m feeling generous tonight,” said the
Neanderthal. “You do it.”

Zoey was surprised at how calm Simon was, as
though he had done this a thousand times. She admired him. She
admired his skills. Simon had talents that she and Tristan would
never have. He would be an awesome agent one day.

Simon cleared his throat. “I don’t plan on
dying tonight, thank you very much. But I
do
have a question
for you two orangutans,” he said, as he prudently raised his hands
in surrender.

The guards glowered in response to Simon’s
insult and lifted their gleaming swords towards him.

“What did you call us, kid?”

The first guard looked to the second. “Did
he just call us monkeys?”

“He did,” growled the other guard. “And the
really ugly ones, too.”

“You calling us
ugly
, kid?”

The second guard sneered. “Let’s cut
him—”

“Wait!” Simon halted and raised his voice.
“One question before you cut me.”

The men glowered. “Go on, then,” said the
guard with the bulldog face. “You’ve got ten seconds.”

Simon raised his brows. “I won’t be needing
that much time. Okay. What’s big, blue, and has a mean left
hook?”

The guards stared at Simon impatiently.

“We’re going to kill you—”

Simon grinned and said, “Him.”

With a flash of blue Tristan landed behind
them. There was a loud
crack
as he hit the two unsuspecting
men on the back of their heads, and they slumped to the ground,
unconscious.

“Man, I envy you,” said Simon, looking at
Tristan with admiration.

He raised his arms and flexed his biceps.
“Guys, do you think my arms will get bigger eventually? Maybe all I
need is more protein.” His face lit up. “I heard if you put Jell-O
on your arms—”

“No, and that’s disgusting, you weirdo,”
teased Zoey.

She and Tristan pulled the comatose guards
away from the entrance and piled them on top of one another against
the wall. When they were done, she handed Simon a black bag.

“A gift from Agent Franken,” she said. “He
wanted to help. He said two would be enough, but gave us a dozen
just in case.”

“A dozen of what?” Simon peered into the bag
and pulled out a small egg-shaped silver ball.

“What are these? Are we planning on making
them a very expensive breakfast?”

Zoey grinned. “Egg bombs - think of them as
mini grenades. I’ve already tested them out —they’re freaking
awesome. Use
these
for your diversion. I promise you won’t
be sorry.”

Tristan took one of Simon’s egg bombs and
tossed it in the air. He had a wild look in his eyes. “This is
going to be fun.”

He pitched the silver egg back to Simon, who
fumbled with it and then caught it awkwardly. “Don’t drop them
yet,” he laughed, as Simon glared at him.

Zoey clasped her boomerang firmly in her
right hand and drew a large pair of metal pliers from the inside of
her coat with her left.

“We stick to the plan,” she said. She jabbed
the pliers like a dagger and felt their weight on her wrist.

“Or we can improvise,” suggested Simon. But
he lost his smile as his friends frowned.

“I’m just saying that we
can
improvise, if we
can’t
follow the plan.”

“We stick to the plan, Simon,” said
Tristan.

Simon looked hurt. “Why would
I
mess
this up? You’re looking at me like that’s something I do on a
regular basis.”

Zoey peered towards the entrance. “We’re
wasting time. We’ve only got one shot at this.”

Tristan grabbed Simon by his collar and
pulled him down next to him. “Let’s go,
Bond
.”

Tristan’s skin shimmered in hues of
blue.

“Right behind you, Hulk,” mumbled Simon.

Zoey crouched low to the ground, and her
heart pounded in her ears.

“Ready,” she said, in a steady, measured
tone.

“Ready,” echoed Tristan and Simon.

“Now!”

And together, the three young operatives
bolted through the entrance.

A group of Alphas turned towards them in
surprise and raced to intercept them. Zoey broke right. Tristan
went left. And Simon ran straight towards the center of the
village. The Alphas hesitated in confusion, then they separated to
follow them.

Running madly, Zoey looked over her
shoulder. Two ugly and furious Alphas charged after her. She smiled
and made her way towards the east side of the wall. When she was
near enough, she halted, spun around, and hurled her boomerang as
hard as she could.