Mystics 3-Book Collection (75 page)

Simon followed her gaze. “I don’t see him.
It wasn’t him. Probably just some guy who looks like him.”

Zoey rubbed her eyes. “Yeah, you’re probably
right.”

“We need a bigger army,” said Tristan with
conviction. “It’s the only way. If we could push back the Alpha
army with force, then maybe we’d have a fighting chance.”

His skin was back to its original olive
color, and he had a nasty purple bruise over his left eye. He held
Agent Franken in his arms as if the little man weighed no more than
a large house cat.

Agent Franken’s face was sickly pale, and
Zoey was worried about him.

“Well, whatever we do,” she said urgently,
“we can’t stay here and think of a plan. We need to split. Agent
Franken needs medical attention, and we need to go, like
now
.”

She pointed to the mass of Alphas galloping
towards them with weapons drawn and malicious grins on their
distorted faces.

“Wish we had an invisibility cloak,” said
Simon miserably as he stared at the ground. “Then we’d get through
for sure.”

Zoey jumped on the spot, her hands on her
head. “That’s it!”

“That’s what?” asked Simon and Tristan
together.

“Simon, you’re a
genius!
” A giant
smile of relief spread across Zoey’s face.

Simon looked puzzled and pleased at the same
time.

“I am? Huh . . . right . . . of course I am
. . . and can you
remind
me why I’m such a genius?” He
looked at Tristan who shrugged. Both of them looked completely
lost.

“I’ll explain later,” said Zoey
hurriedly.

The Alphas were closing in fast.

“We don’t have time. Let’s get out of here.
Hurry! Get out your DSMs.”

Zoey flipped hers open. Her hands were
sweaty, and she nearly dropped it. Tristan held on to the
unconscious Agent Franken. She steadied her hands, and Simon and
Tristan’s bodies shimmered. The ground shook under her sneakers,
and she could feel the oncoming army; they were so close that she
could touch them—then Zoey and her team disappeared.

Chapter 8

“
W
e’re all doomed!”
said an agent with his head wrapped in bloody bandages.

“Our forces couldn’t even make it to the
portal. How are we supposed to
save
our world if we can’t
even
reach
it!” asked another agent on crutches.

“We’re all going to die!”

“Sucked in by a giant black hole!”

“The Big Bang is upon us!”

Zoey slouched in her chair. She tried to
hide from the glares she was getting from the injured and
recovering agents in the medical bay. She sat on a small metal
chair next to Agent Franken’s bed with his carry-on on her lap. The
medical bay was just as she had remembered: white walls and metal
beds with white linens. The only difference was this time the room
was overcrowded with patients. Agents and their science officers
lay in beds, wailing. Some had missing limbs, some just cried, and
some had a white sheet over them. The doctors had said that Agent
Franken’s injuries weren’t life-threatening. He hadn’t woken yet,
and his dangerously pale skin made him look dead. If it weren’t for
the constant rise and fall of his chest, he’d look like a corpse in
the morgue.

He had suffered a concussion and needed
plenty of rest, and he
wasn’t
to be disturbed. But Zoey
couldn’t leave his side. She felt partly responsible for him. They
were supposed to
protect
their science officer. His hand lay
limply by his side and more than once Zoey was tempted to reach out
and touch it—but she couldn’t, so she just twirled the handle of
his carry-on bag instead.

“So . . . are you
ever
going to tell
us what you meant by calling me a genius?” whispered Simon as he
and Tristan shared curious looks. “Not that I mind, I mean, I
really
love
that you—uh—not that I actually
love
you,
love you. Know what I mean?”

“Yes. I know, Simon,” said Zoey
absently.

She scanned the room and focused on a rear
window. Dust and debris blew against the window outside, and the
skies were angry and blood red. It was almost as though it was a
warning—there would be a blood bath. The group of agitated agents
had lost their interest in Zoey and argued loudly among
themselves.

“Good,” continued Simon as he leaned on
Agent Franken’s bed, “’cause I just meant that I really
like
being called a genius.”

His blue eyes sparkled with
self-satisfaction. “I’ve always thought of myself as a genius, but
I never say it, you know. Don’t want agents to think I’m getting
above myself and stuff.”

Tristan let out a sigh. “You never cease to
amaze me, bubblehead.”

“I’m not a bubblehead,” said Simon. “Haven’t
you heard? Your girlfriend thinks I’m a genius.”

It happened so fast that Zoey wasn’t sure it
had happened at all. Simon hadn’t just called her Tristan’s
girlfriend
. . . had he?

Neither of them had ever spoken the words
girlfriend
or
boyfriend
before, so it came as a shock
when Simon did, like somehow
he
made it
real
. She
didn’t know where to look, so she just kept looking straight at the
wall like a crazy person. She thought for sure the entire room had
been listening to them. Only when she realized that she had stopped
breathing did she allow herself a shaky breath.

Ever since Zoey had
kissed
Tristan to
thank him for bailing out her and Simon, things between them had
gotten a little more
complicated
—but a
good
complicated. Even though they had never actually discussed how they
felt for one another, they both knew what was there. It was
undeniable, like the silent understanding that went between them—it
was just
there
.

She had never had a boyfriend before, so she
had absolutely no idea what to do with him. Did agents date? Where
they even allowed to date?

Zoey cleared her throat. “The thing is—if we
could
be
invisible, if we could be concealed somehow, we
could just walk right through the portal, and they’d never see
us.”

Simon looked doubtful. “Okay, I get your
point. But . . . we’re
not
invisible. You do know that,
don’t you?”

“Don’t be silly, of course I do,” dismissed
Zoey.

“So how do you suppose we become
invisible
then?” asked Tristan.

Zoey looked quickly at him and blushed. He
was smiling at her. He wasn’t making this easier. In fact, he
looked like he was enjoying seeing her squirm.

She tried to ignore his smile and said. “By
magic, by a spell or something.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, Zoey,” interrupted
Simon as he inspected Agent Franken’s fingers. “But the last I
checked, agents didn’t carry magic wands or pull bunnies out of
their hats—”

“Those are magicians, stupid,” corrected
Tristan.

Simon shrugged. “Whatever, the point is,
agents
don’t
do magic or spells. We’re not wizards—”

“I’m not talking about
agents
,” said
Zoey.

She noticed that some agents were slowing
inching closer to them so she lowered her voice. “I’m talking about
someone else. I think I know someone who can
make
us
invisible.”

Tristan leaned forward. “Zoey, what are you
talking about?”

Zoey looked at her friends and then
whispered, “Remember the story I told you about the creature that
brought the recording of my mother?”

Tristan frowned. “The Minitian?”

“Yes. She’s a sorceress, right?” said Zoey
excitedly. “And if anyone can magic us invisible, I’m sure
she
can.”

Tristan and Simon both stared at Zoey like
she had just told them something that made no sense.

And then Simon whistled. “Okay, now you’re
talking like a
crazy
woman.”

“I’m not crazy,” warned Zoey. “Why are you
guys staring at me like that?” she said with a slight frown. “This
is our best shot to get across. I know it’ll work. Don’t you
want
to save our world from total annihilation?”

Simon looked confused and scratched his
head. “Yes . . . but—”

“It’s our
best
shot to get across the
portal,” said Zoey desperately. It was also her best shot to save
her mother, but she didn’t share that with them. She knew they
could sense the panic in her voice. But it didn’t matter. What
mattered was to get there.

“But Zoey,” began Tristan. “What if she
won’t
help us? You forget that Minitians are shy creatures.
They don’t like agents meddling in their affairs. They spend their
lives in seclusion, studying their arts and doing whatever else
Minitians do. I know that Minitian your mother knew—”

“Muttab,” corrected Zoey.

“Right, Muttab. I know she was your mother’s
friend, but she might not want to help
us
.”

“He’s right you know,” said Simon, who was
now inspecting Agent Franken’s toes like he was about to decide if
he needed a pedicure or not.

“She will,” argued Zoey. “I know she will.
Call it a hunch, but I know Muttab
will
help us.”

She couldn’t explain to her friends how she
knew this, but she did. Muttab would help them; she was sure of it.
More than a gut feeling, it was a certainty.

She leaned back in her chair conclusively,
and a
clink
came from inside Agent Franken bag. It sounded
like two soda cans hitting one another. What was in that bag
anyway?

“Okay, so like a leap of faith then?” said
Simon, but he lost his smile when he met Zoey’s glare.

“But it’s the
best
darn plan we’ve
got. Isn’t it, Tristan? Tristan, a little help here?”

Zoey couldn’t read Tristan’s expression.
That bothered her.

“Okay,” said Simon. He sprawled over the
side of Agent Franken’s bed and raised himself on his elbows.
“Let’s say your plan works. Let’s say we get some invisible witch
potion—we make it through—” he paused, his eyes widening, “How do
you propose we shut the portals downs?”

“He’s right,” said Tristan. “You saw what
happened when Agent Ferguson tried. Blood of the Originals didn’t
work—”

Zoey started to feel that her brilliant plan
had too many holes in it.

“You’ll need a UEC to do that,” said a
hoarse voice.

Zoey, Simon, and Tristan froze. Agent
Franken’s eyes were open and observing them.

Simon broke the silence.

“It’s alive!” he bellowed overdramatically
and jumped off the bed. All the agents in the room turned
around.

Zoey glared at him, and he clamped his mouth
shut.

She leaned carefully towards Agent Franken,
and her face broke into a smile. “We’re so happy you’re all right.
I was scared we’d lost you after the werewolf attacks.”

She hesitated. “I’m sorry we couldn’t
protect you.”

Agent Franken raised his brows. “You did the
best you could under dire circumstances. It’ll take more than a few
werewolves to get the best of me.”

His voice cracked, and Zoey could see the
strain on his face, like every word hurt him to speak.

“The old geezer’s got more in him than we
thought,” Simon whispered to Tristan.

Zoey ignored him.

“Agent Franken,” she said carefully, “did
you just insinuate that
we
can close the portal
somehow?”

The old man nodded. “Yes.”

“Yes?” said Tristan and Simon in unison.

Agent Franken nodded. “That’s what I said.
You can close your mouth now, Simon.”

He looked down at himself and sighed
heavily. “I’m afraid these old bones are not fit for battle. I’m in
no shape to shut down the portals. I’m sorry, but I cannot be your
science officer anymore.” His eyes glinted with mischief, and he
added in a low voice, “which is why you three
must
go on
without me.”

“We do?” said Simon and Tristan
together.

Zoey tried hard not to smile. Her voice
trembled with eagerness. “But Agent Ward will never let us go
without you or without another science officer. She was pretty
clear on that subject.”

A hint of a smile appeared on Agent
Franken’s face. “She never stopped you from leaving the Hive
before.”

He smiled at Zoey’s surprise. “Yes—I should
think now, more than ever, your
special
skills are
required.”

There was no more controlling it, Zoey’s
face broke into a wide grin. She’d always suspected that Agent
Franken believed in her. He knew she was capable of taking on this
mission. Just the thought that he was on her side made her feel
like a real agent, like she truly
belonged
. She wouldn’t let
him down.

Simon beamed, but Tristan wasn’t smiling. He
clenched his jaw. His face was drawn, and his eyes darkened with
worry. Whatever Tristan was feeling, it was clear he could see the
dangers that awaited them. The Nexus was unknown territory, even
for the most experienced agent.

But she had no other choice. She
had
to shut the portals, and she
had
to save her mother.

Zoey moved to the edge of her seat, “What’s
a UEC?”

“A UEC,” informed their science officer, “is
a Utron Energy Capsule.”

He paused for a moment, as though he was
gathering his thoughts. “It’s a device that was fabricated long ago
with one sole purpose—to destroy portals. The UECs were built as a
precaution, you might say, against just such a catastrophic event
as we are facing now.”

Simon sat back on Agent Franken’s bed again,
“You mean the Great Joining—”

“Junction,” corrected Tristan. “The Great
Junction
. How many times do we have to tell you for it to
sink in, genius?”