Mystics 3-Book Collection (83 page)

Tristan sheathed his dagger inside his
jacket. “Yeah, his old bones probably don’t weigh much anyway.”

He looked up at the sky. “But we better
hurry; this storm is getting worse. We won’t be able to see a foot
in front of us soon. It’ll be a miracle if we can still find the
tracks.”

Zoey got to her feet. It wasn’t just the
storm that worried her. She kept checking her wrist, hoping her
boomerang would magically reappear. It didn’t. She tried hard not
to freak out, but she felt like somebody had stolen one of her
hands.

“What’s wrong?” Tristan saw her hand around
her golden bracelet and frowned. “Zoey, where’s your
boomerang?”

“Gone. Destroyed. One of the creatures
melted it with its acid-like blood.”

It was strange to feel so attached to
something that wasn’t alive, but without her weapon Zoey felt
naked, exposed, weak. She stared at the ground.

Tristan reached into the folds of his jacket
and drew a small dagger. “Here, take this one. It’s a spare. I know
it’s not the same, but at least you have something to protect
yourself with.”

Zoey flipped the dagger in her hand. It was
much lighter than her old weapon, and the rough handle felt awkward
against her skin, but she needed to get used to it quickly.

“Let’s go,” she said, trying not to sound
too disappointed. “Maybe we can help Simon in that city—”

“You come with us now, or you die,” said a
voice behind Zoey.

Chapter 15

A
group of the
strangest creatures she’d ever encountered stood behind Zoey and
Tristan.

Although tan-colored robes were draped over
their Hobbit-sized bodies, and their faces were hidden beneath
their hoods, Zoey could see their small pointy features. They
formed a ring around Zoey and Tristan and watched them with large,
glowing green eyes. Some of them brandished deadly looking spears
while others held automatic weapons or wore belts of grenades over
their shoulders. With the strong winds, Zoey hadn’t heard them
until it was too late. They looked like miniature ninjas. Even
without their numbers and weapons, they still had the upper hand
because they were stealthy and knew the lay of the land.

One of the hooded mystics pointed a long,
sharp spear at Zoey’s face and spoke in a chipmunk-like voice with
a heavy accent.

“Leave weapons or you die.”

At first Zoey almost started laughing. She
had to remind herself that she had a razor-sharp weapon pointed at
her eyes. She glanced over at Tristan, and they tossed their
weapons to the ground. She wished she had her boomerang with her.
She raised her hands in surrender and backed up next to Tristan.
She leaned towards him and whispered. “Please tell me you know what
these mystics are.”

“Chacras,” answered Tristan. Zoey couldn’t
tell by his tone if they were dangerous or not. They looked pretty
dangerous.

“Are they
friendly
?”

“Not sure.” Tristan eyed them curiously for
a moment. “They’re mostly traders, and merchants. They trade
weapons.”

“Well, they’re pretty
loaded
with
them,” said Zoey.

She raised her voice. “These are the only
weapons we have. Take them, and leave us alone.”

Simon was still unconscious. They needed to
get him some help fast.

The Chacras that was pointing the spear at
Zoey backed away and began conversing with the other Chacras. They
spoke quickly in a high-pitched language that sounded like an audio
clip on fast-forward. The Chacras’ voices rose as disagreements
erupted among them. She couldn’t tell who their leader was. She
sensed that they didn’t have a leader and acted as a
collective.

“What’s going on?” Zoey whispered. Tristan
shrugged.

Finally, the voices calmed. One of the
Chacras raised his spear and pointed it towards the city.

“You come with us. Leave the dead one.
Cannot make trade with dead one—”

“What?” Zoey stepped forward. “He’s
not
dead, you overgrown chipmunk. He’s hurt.”

She stood protectively in front of Simon.
“I’m not going anywhere without my friend.”

The Chacras raised their spears at Zoey. “He
old. He dead. You do what we say.”

Zoey knocked the spear out of her face.

“I don’t think so. You’ll have to kill me,”
she growled. “He’s just hurt . . . he’s unconscious.”

If they tried to hurt Simon she swore would
tear them apart with her bare hands. Well, at least she hoped she
could.

The Chacras raised their weapons at her and
yelled angrily.

One of them yelled something that seemed to
calm the others down a little, although they still shifted
nervously and held their tiny fingers on the triggers of their big
guns.

Tristan stepped carefully over to Zoey.

“Zoey, we can’t shut the portals if we’re
dead. You’re upsetting them, and in case you haven’t noticed,
there’s a lot more of
them
than
us
.”

Zoey knew Tristan was right, but she felt
overly protective of Simon because he was injured and because he
was an old man.

“You worth more living. No dead, no dead,”
said the Chacras. It shook its head and lifted up three fingers.
Zoey noticed that its skin was a light yellowish color.

“We make
three
trade. You take friend
with you. Three trade. We make trade in city. You come now.” He
shoved his spear at Zoey.

“I swear I’m going to break that spear over
his head—”

“
Zoey
,” warned Tristan. “Let’s do
what they say. We need to get to the city anyway. Think of them as
our guides.”

“Fine. Okay. We’ll go with you.” She waited
for Tristan to lift Simon up on his shoulders and then followed the
Chacras.

The Chacras moved fast across the red dunes.
They looked more like they were gliding than walking. And when Zoey
glanced down, she noticed that the only footprints in the sand were
hers and Tristan’s.

Every now and then a Chacras would hit Zoey
or Tristan with the blunt edge of a weapon. “Faster. You move
faster.”

“Okay, okay,” hissed Zoey.

The lack of oxygen and food was taking its
toll. Zoey was beginning to struggle just to walk. Sweat poured
down into her eyes, and she concentrated on putting one foot in
front of the other and not falling over. Tristan’s face was
strained and dirty. She could see that his skin was back to its
natural olive color, which meant he was relying on his
non-Mysterian strength to carry Simon. She could tell he was
tiring, too.

After what seemed to be two hours of
walking, all she could see was a wall of red sand. They were in the
eye of the blizzard. How did the Chacras know where they were
going? She realized that even in their misfortune they had been
lucky
the mystics had found them. They would never have made
it to the city without them.

Then the winds died. Zoey looked up and
quickly understood why.

The city was cupped protectively at the
bottom of the black mountains, as though two giant hands were
holding it up. She had been so preoccupied with trying to breathe
and not trip she hadn’t even noticed that they had arrived at the
city. The winds didn’t reach them here, and the air seemed easier
on her lungs.

The city was huge—the size of a major
metropolitan city in her world. But instead of tall glass and metal
skyscrapers, the Nexus city was a jumble of mismatched subterranean
and above ground dwellings made of clay and the black stones from
the mountainside. Thousands, perhaps millions, of mystics scurried
around in the labyrinth of streets and passageways.

Two colossal stone statues carved with the
body of a lion, the upper torso and head of a woman, and eagle
wings guarded the entrance of the city. They looked like Sphinxes.
They had ruby eyes, and they frowned to ward off intruders. Zoey
was both impressed and frightened by the looks on the women’s
faces. Both statues held signs. One was written in a language she
couldn’t understand. Although the other was damaged, she could read
it.
NEXUS CITY
.

Zoey had absolutely no idea how many cities
there were in the Nexus, but she hoped this was the capital and
prayed that Director Martin and her mother were here somewhere.

Zoey heard a whining sound and turned to see
a large cow-like creature with long brown hair pulling a wagon.
Another Chacras sat in the driver’s chair, and some of Zoey’s
abductors went to speak to him.

“You get in,” said the Chacras who spoke
English.

He hit the end of his spear against the back
of the wagon. “Get in. We go to city. We make trade.”

He ushered Zoey and Tristan into the wagon.
She was so grateful for a break from walking that she didn’t need
to be told twice.

Tristan laid Simon gently on the floor. Zoey
quickly slipped her backpack off and placed it carefully under his
head. He was pale, really pale. She tried to wake him up with a
little bit of water on his mouth and face, but it didn’t work. She
took a small sip to rinse the sand from her mouth and gave the
bottle to Tristan.

The English-speaking Chacras and two others
jumped into the back of the wagon with their weapons drawn. The
rest of the group spread out and disappeared back into desert. Zoey
watched until they were swallowed up by the red storm. Apparently
they felt that Zoey and Tristan were no longer a threat. Why?
Whatever the reason, it made her more nervous.

“Uttik, tuk, tuk,” the driver called as he
lashed the reins. The beast whined, and then the wagon shifted and
bounced. Zoey sat with her back against one of the side panels, and
Tristan sat across from her. The touch of each other’s feet was
their only source of comfort. The Chacras still pointed their
weapons at them, and Zoey tried to ignore them as she took a closer
look at the city.

Like any major metropolitan city, the
streets of Nexus were packed with creatures big and small. A
dog-like creature with a large human face and tall rabbit ears
walked beside a creature with a large green body, long tentacles,
wings, and talons. Blue-skinned females with backwards feet shopped
in a store tended by a small bear-like, hairless beast with spikes.
Behind them coiled a large serpent with horns, and beside it was a
hideous monster made of deceased human body parts. It reminded Zoey
of Frankenstein. She recognized clay golems from her studies. An
enormous black dog with blue flames around its head talked with
moth and human hybrids with yellow glowing eyes. Everywhere she
looked she saw more mystics she’d never seen or heard of before.
The mystics paid no attention to her and Tristan, like they weren’t
very interesting. She wondered why that was. Were humans a regular
thing in the Nexus?

The deeper they ventured into the city, the
deeper her sense of dread.

Was her mother here? This city was enormous.
How would she ever find her? It would take years to go through
every building. She could see that Tristan was thinking the same
thing. The city was just
too
big, and they were running out
of time . . . .

The wagon came to a halt before the tallest
building in the city. It stood around ten stories high and was made
of a black stucco-like material. Red painted animal bones formed
the moldings around the rows of windows. The front door was also
made of large red bones, as though they were still fresh and wet
with blood. It looked like a black cathedral, a bone church.

“Those doors are seriously disturbing.”

“SIMON!” She threw her arms around him and
squeezed.

“Zoey—can’t—breathe,” said Simon into Zoey’s
shoulder. “Seriously, you’re
killing
me.”

Zoey released him. “Sorry, it’s just . . .”
she hesitated, her heart thumping, “I thought you’d never wake up.
I’m
so
happy to see you’re okay.”

Tristan shared a smiled with Zoey and then
patted Simon on the back. “Really glad you’re back with us, man.
You had us really worried.”

“What? And miss out on all the fun?” said
Simon. “Not a chance.”

He pulled himself up and rubbed his head. “I
have a nasty bump on my head.”

He hesitated and then asked, “Am I still . .
. old? Or do I look like me again?”

Zoey saw the glint of hope in his wet blue
eyes. She didn’t want to disappoint him, but she couldn’t lie
either. “Sorry, Simon, but you still look like someone’s
grandfather.”

Simon was silent for a moment. “Where are
we? And what’s up with the hooded munchkins?”

Tristan quickly explained what had happened
after Simon had blacked out.

“So this is Nexus City, eh?” said Simon as
he examined his surroundings. “What do you think the Chacras are
going to do to us—”?

The front doors made of bones swung
open.

A tall, hunched creature with long spindly
legs and arms and a round torso that looked as though it was filled
with air walked down the stone steps and made for the wagon. It had
no visible neck, a small, flat bald head, and lopsided shoulders.
It wore a white lab coat and looked at them with bulbous pink eyes.
The coat was stained with burgundy and green spots, and Zoey
thought she could see chunks of flesh splattered over the front and
sleeves.

“That dude looks like a cross between Dr.
Frankenstein and Mr. Hyde,” laughed Simon.

Zoey glanced at Simon. She still felt weird
that her friend’s voice and face looked and sounded so old. She
hoped the effect wasn’t permanent.

“It’s worse than that,” said Tristan. He
leaned back and lowered his voice. “He’s an Anerak.”

Zoey’s throat tightened. “Those are the
mystics Mrs. Dupont sold my mother to . . . the doctors.”

Tristan nodded. “I wouldn’t call them
doctors. They’re rumored to be responsible for
unethical
experiments. They call themselves doctors, but they’re the worst
kind of doctor
monsters
.”