12

AFTER THE DEPARTMENTAL PRESENTATIONS, WE’RE GIVEN the rest of the
afternoon off to get ready for the Welcome Social at 6:30. It’s a chance for
all the incoming trainees to get to know one another. Except while most of
the other kids crowd the hallways joking and laughing and comparing
outfits, Elsie and I lock the door to our room and begin our investigation
into the disappearance of VanQuish.
“First, we need to come up with an actual plan and then make sure we
follow it,” says Elsie. “The best way to do that is to put it into writing.” She
uses her sleeve to wipe some equations from her whiteboard before she lays
it down on the floor between our beds. “So what’s been your plan so far?”
I bite down on my lip. “I don’t really have a plan plan.”
Elsie shoots me a look. “You were just going to make it up as you go
along?”
My cheeks flush. “It does sound pretty dumb when you say it like that.”
My roommate just shakes her head. “You can’t investigate anything
without a plan.” She pulls the top off her marker and writes . . .
Step One
Come up with a plan.
“Did you really even have to write that?” I ask.
“Yes. Now let’s think.”
We’re both quiet for a bit before I say, “I guess what I’ve been doing so
far is just trying to get some answers about the Bureau’s investigation. But
all Agent Magnus will tell me is that it’s classified. It’s like the only word
he knows.”
Elsie nods and writes out:

Step Two
Find out what the Bureau already knows about Van-Quih’s disapperance.

And that’s when I realize I actually did have a plan. I slide off my bed
onto the floor beside Elsie and pick up one of her spare markers.
I write:

Step Three
Use what we find out to launch our oun investigation.

My roommate grins. “This is a good start.”
“Too bad we’re going to be stuck on Step Two forever. It’s not like
they’ll suddenly decide to make the VanQuish files unclassified just for us.”
“You’re probably right,” says Elsie. “But we don’t need the files. We just
need to find someone who knows something and might be willing to talk.”
I think back on all the people I’ve met at the Bureau so far. Then it hits
me. Elsie looks up at the same time as I do and we both say, “The Van
Helsing twins!” Their dad is the Director of Supernatural Investigations,
they’re bound to have heard something about the search.
“Hope you feel like dancing,” says Elsie, “’cause they’ll definitely be at
the social tonight.”

When 6:30 comes, Elsie’s all dressed and ready to go. She put on one of the
dresses that made their way into our closet after the departmental
presentations. Her dress is so cool—it looks like she’s wrapped herself in
sparkling blue ocean. Waves seem to ripple across the fabric, and a school
of bright orange fish zips around her waist. The water looks so real I think
my hand might get wet if I touch it.
Somehow, our closet seems to magically contain whatever outfit we
need. I wish it would magic up some comfy pajamas, because that’s how
little I feel like going to a Welcome Social.
“You’re still not dressed?” Elsie makes an exasperated face.
“There’s got to be an easier way,” I say. “Can’t we just surprise one of
them in the hallway or something?”
“The Van Helsing twins stay with their parents in the director
apartments,” says Elsie. “The only time they come down here is to visit one of their friends. It could take weeks to run into them by chance. We don’t
have that kind of time.”
“Fine,” I groan.
Elsie skips over to the closet. “Hmm, there’s a white dress in here from
Madame Duboise that would be a-mazing on you.” She holds it up and it
looks like it’s made of actual clouds.
“Ugh. Like I need any more attention. It’ll be bad enough just showing
up as the magician who received a moonstone badge this morning.”
“You’re looking at this the wrong way,” says Elsie. “Lara and her friends
love anything that gets them more attention. Being the magician girl with a
moonstone badge is the reason they’ll want to hang out with you.” She
holds up the cloud dress again. “You’re kind of a big deal. Might as well
look the part.”
Fifteen minutes later, the two of us take an operasinging elevator named
Luciano back to the Special Events floor. Music booms behind the golden
ballroom doors. Two ladies in butler uniforms push them open for us.
I stop cold. When they said this year’s theme is Winter Wonderland, they
really meant it. It’s snowing inside the huge ballroom. Snowcovered fir
trees grow straight up out of the floor and huge ice sculptures of dancing
penguins and laughing polar bears fill up the spaces between the candlelit
tables. Kids dance in midair, squealing and laughing as they’re carried back
and forth by swirling gusts of wind.
I start to feel that same bubbly excitement I got the first time I saw those
underwater trains with Quinton. This is incredible.
Elsie’s freckled face beams as she takes my hand. “Ready?”
“As ready as I’m going to be.”
As we make our way through the tables, I do my best to ignore all the
stunned faces that turn my way. It’s hard though. It feels like the whole
room is staring. This is just what I was afraid of—having the same
“outsider” spotlight shining down over me as I had back at Jefferson
Academy. I honestly feel like I could throw up.
“There’s Lara,” says Elsie, nodding toward a tall girl, in a dress that
sparkles like diamonds, moving through the crowd of kids near the snack
table. “Let’s go talk to her while she’s alone.”
I fight down my nerves and try to focus on why I’m here—to get
answers. After a deep breath I say, “Let’s do it.”
“Be confident,” Elsie says. “Right,” I say. “Confident.”
“And whatever she says about me, just ignore it. We can’t blow this
chance.”
Before I can ask what she means, Elsie reaches Lara and gives her a
polite tap on the shoulder.
When Lara spins around, it’s like she’s posing for a photo or something.
That girl is crazy pretty. Like, neverusedafilterinherlife pretty.
Lara frowns and rolls her eyes when she realizes it’s Elsie. “What do you
want? Please tell me you aren’t here to beg me to be friends again.”
If Elsie’s feelings are hurt, she doesn’t show it. “I just thought you’d like
to meet the Amari Peters.”
Lara finds me over Elsie’s shoulder and her whole face lights up. She
brushes past Elsie like she’s not even there. Next thing I know, Lara is
throwing an arm around my shoulder and snapping a quick selfie.
“I’m Lara Van Helsing,” she says confidently. “You may not know this,
but your brother and my sister were partners.”
All I can think to say is, “They’re famous.” So dumb.
“The most famous.” Lara grins. “You have to come sit at our table,” she
says, leaning in close. “My friends are dying to meet you.”
“Actually, I was kind of hoping to talk to you about VanQuish—”
“Just come and say hello,” Lara interrupts. “It’ll take two seconds. Then
we can talk all about my sister and your brother. Deal?”
Lara looks at me like telling her no would break her heart. I glance
around but Elsie is nowhere to be found.
“Don’t worry about Elsie. We used to be besties, like, forever ago. But
that was before she went and got boring. I mean c’mon, a weredragon who
can’t even shift. . . . Anyway, you coming?”
Who does this girl think she is? I’m just about to tell her about herself but
remember Elsie’s warning just in time. She knew Lara might badmouth her
and told me to ignore it. So, hard as it is, I force a smile and say, “Maybe
just a quick hello.”
Lara squeals and takes my hand, then leads me to the other side of the
ballroom where a few tables have been pushed together. The kids there all
look bored silly. Lara clears her throat loudly. “Meet my new friend, Amari
Peters.”
That gets their attention. They all turn to look at me.

Feeling myself flush, I give a little wave. One of the boys stands up and
says, “You can have my seat.”
That’s when Dylan Van Helsing catches my eye. He’s seated on the other
side of the table, arms crossed. Just like his sister, he’s cute enough that he
looks like he flies out to international modeling gigs after the last school
bell rings. He mouths, “Don’t.”
But before I can react, Lara practically shoves me down into the seat.
Dylan sighs and shakes his head.
“They’re really letting you stay on after cracking the Crystal Ball?” asks
a girl in a gown that looks like a starry night sky. “I’m Kirsten Kurst, by the
way.”
My heart sinks down into my belly. “I didn’t actually crack it,” I say,
quickly. “It was an illusion.” I shrug. “An accident.”
The others all look at one another with wide eyes.
“And they know you’re a magician?” asks a boy in a shiny, metallic gold
suit. “I heard all the worst magicians were illusionists.”
I nod. “They’re um . . . giving me a chance to prove myself.”
A boy in a skyblue suit holds up his phone. “Geez, her touching the
crystal is trending at number one! Can you believe that?”
“I am?” I say. “On YouTube?”
“Not the internet,” says Kirsten. “The othernet. It’s the protected part of
the internet we use in the supernatural world.”
“Oh,” I say.
“Well, it really was a killer entrance,” he replies. “No way it’ll ever be
topped.”
I crack a nervous smile. Lara is awful, but maybe her friends aren’t?
Maybe they understand? “I wish it had been a boring entrance. I’d even
take a different badge if I could.”
No one at the table returns my smile, and I wonder if I’ve said the wrong
thing. I glance over at Dylan again, but he won’t meet my eyes.
“Amari, settle an argument for us,” says another boy. “One last vacation
before you die: London or Rome?”
“I’ve never been to either,” I say.
He looks shocked. “Oh, I bet your people are yacht people, right? Saint
Tropez?”
I sit staring at the table in front of me. These kids really do live in a
totally different world. Yachts and trips to fancy places. What do I know about that?
“My family isn’t rich,” I say. “It’s just me and my mom. She’s a nursing
assistant at a hospital.”
“A nursing . . . assistant?” asks Brian Li, who I remember touching the
Crystal Ball right before Elsie. “Aren’t nurses already assistants?”
Laughter. My fists clench beneath the table. It feels like I’m drowning.
“But if you’re family is broke,” asks the boy in the gold suit, “then how
did you and Quinton get in?”
“Didn’t you know?” answers Lara, who’s finally made her way around
the table to take a seat next to her brother. “Quinton wasn’t a legacy kid; he
was merit.”
The whole table goes quiet. They all stare at me like I’ve got two heads
or something.
“What does merit mean?” I ask.
Kirsten leans in. “It means your brother got in for doing something
noteworthy, like saving a family from a burning building or acing one of the
national exams. Most kids at the Bureau get in because they have a family
member who nominated them. Many of us can trace back our family history
in the Bureau for hundreds of years.”
“The Van Helsings founded the Bureau,” Lara adds matteroffactly.
“Merits are basically what the Bureau does to fill any leftover seats once
the legacy nominations have all been sent out,” says Kirsten.
“Well,” says Lara, “I don’t mind as long as they know their place.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.
“It means they shouldn’t set their sights too high,” says Kirsten. “They
should just take an unimportant specialty and be grateful.”
Lara rolls her eyes. “But you know they won’t. They’ll all try out for
Junior Agent anyway.”
“So what if Quinton was merit?” I say. “My brother was one of the best
agents there’s ever been.”
“Even a broken clock is right twice a day.” Lara cocks her head to one
side. “My father tells us about it every year. Merit kids who go out for fancy
specialties only to fail the tryout and get sent home without a scholarship.
And let’s be real, they’re the ones who really need the scholarships.”
“You can only try your best,” I say. “Why shouldn’t they choose
something that really interests them?” “Did you read that off a poster?” Lara covers her mouth dramatically.
“Wait, don’t tell me you signed up for Junior Agent? I mean, technically
you’re a legacy kid, but barely.”
“What if I did?”
Lara huffs and I see it—that same I’mbetterthanyou attitude flashes in
her eyes that I used to see in Emily Grant’s. “Please. Do you really think
lightning is going to strike twice? I mean one ghetto kid stumbling into
fame is rare enough, don’t you think?” She leans closer, lowering her voice
so that she’s practically growling at me. “Face it, fancy badge or not, you
don’t even have a supernatural ability. Not a real one.”
Snickers ring out around the table.
“I do,” I say.
“Then show us,” says Lara.
I just sit there as the others try to hold in their laughter.
Lara pokes out her bottom lip mockingly. “How tragic.”
I stand up from the table quickly, knocking my chair over. “Leave me
alone!” I’m shaking.
“Or what? You and your disgusting magician friends will sic your nasty
hybrids on me? You shouldn’t even be here!”
I don’t only hear Lara’s voice. I hear Emily Grant and her stuckup friends
too. Anger surges through me. And then, suddenly, a swirling blaze of fire
erupts on the table between me and Lara. My breath hitches, and the kids
fall over one another as they scramble to get away.
“Disgusting magician!” Lara glares at me over the blaze.
That’s when I feel two hands steer me away from the table. “Hey!” I say
in protest, but it’s just Elsie. She’s a lot stronger than she looks. I glance
over my shoulder to see my fire fade away without a single burn mark
anywhere. Thank goodness. Elsie doesn’t let me go until we’re back on the
other side of the ballroom.
“Your aura was burning red,” she says. “Figured I’d get you out of there
before you did something you’d regret.” She sets a plate in front of me.
“Eat.”
“Maybe I don’t—” The aroma of the pepperoni pizza hits me and I don’t
even remember what I was saying. I start in immediately on a thick, cheesy
slice.
I’m halfway through it when Elsie says, “I’m guessing things didn’t go
well, huh?” I groan. “I don’t think Lara ever wanted to talk about Quinton and Maria.
She just wanted to get me in front of her stupid friends to make fun of me.”
Elsie winces. “Sounds like Lara. I thought with how much she looked up
to Maria, she might want to help us.” She shakes her head. “She wasn’t
always like that. When we were younger, back before she cared about being
a ‘Van Helsing,’ she used to be really nice.”
“Well, that Lara is long gone.”
Elsie nods.
Once I’ve finished my plate, I pull out my new cell phone and set it in
front of Elsie. “Can you show me how to access the othernet? I want to be
able to check social media.”
“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” asks Elsie. “The supernatural
world isn’t much nicer than the known world.”
“I know,” I say. “I just want to show everyone the real me. Can you do it
for me?”
“Okay, but you’ve got to promise me something in return.”
“Deal,” I say.
Elsie not only downloads the app that lets me access the othernet, she
even creates a profile for me on Eurgphmthilthmsphlthm, the leading social
media site in the supernatural world.
“How do you even pronounce that?” I ask.
“You don’t,” she replies. “Humans don’t have enough tongues.”
“Oh, okay then.”
Elsie’s request is that I go with her to the aerial dance floor. She swears
it’ll lift my spirits. And even though I don’t ask, she can’t wait to tell me
how it works. “It’s basically a minitornado, but it’s controlled so it isn’t
dangerous.” Even down here on the ground I can feel the wind on my face.
Kids whip around in fast circles high into the air and back down again.
“Okay, the next time a spot opens up we’re jumping in,” says Elsie.
I’m a little nervous, but with the way this whole day has gone, I just want
to do something fun. And Elsie is so excited it’s hard for me not to feel it
too. She nods along to the music and next thing I know, so do I.
Elsie and I are next in line. “Ready?” she asks.
A hand lands on my shoulder. I turn to discover it’s Dylan Van Helsing. I
shrug it off, instantly annoyed. “Can’t you guys take a hint?”
He raises both hands in surrender. “Not me. My father wants to talk with
you.” “What does your dad want?” I ask Dylan as I follow him across the
ballroom. Lara could’ve run off to tell her dad about my fire illusion. What
if he thinks I’m out of control? The chief made it clear that I’m on a short
leash.
Dylan shrugs. “No clue.”
My heart is beating so fast. But not so fast that I don’t realize I’ve got
another chance at a Van Helsing twin. “Well, can you at least tell me if you
know anything about what happened to my brother . . . and your sister?”
“My dad said that he’d let us know as soon as they learned something,”
he grumbles. “That was six months ago.”
I shake my head. Another dead end.
Dylan stops to look at me. “But . . . I’ve done my own snooping around
and managed to find out a few things on my own.”
“Tell me.”
He gives me a questioning look. “Why should I?”
“Because it’s not just your sister that’s missing. It’s my brother too. You
should understand how I feel. Please.” I only hope he isn’t as awful as his
sister.
Dylan frowns. For a moment it seems like he won’t answer, but then he
says, “Fine. But over there.” He points to an empty section of the ballroom.
Once we’re there, he says, “The Bureau knows who took Quinton and
Maria. They have for months now.”
“Really? Who was it?”
Dylan drops his voice even lower. “It was one of Moreau’s people. A
couple months after VanQuish went missing, a letter arrived at the Bureau
offering a trade. It said that if the Bureau refused, then no one would be
safe. It was signed, Moreau’s loyal apprentice.”
My breath catches. “Does that mean Quinton and Maria are alive? That
they’re okay?”
“I hope so,” says Dylan.
If the letter was from Moreau’s apprentice, then maybe Quinton and
Maria were taken so they could be traded for Moreau’s freedom. “What did
the Bureau do about the letter?”
“Doesn’t seem like they did anything,” Dylan says angrily. “And there
have been hybrid attacks ever since.” Hybrids? My brain tries to process what I just heard. The magician who’s
been attacking the Bureau is the same person who took my brother.
I can’t believe Director Van Helsing accused me of being that magician.
Did he really think I’d kidnap my own brother? “Wait, so the Bureau just
ignored the letter?”
“As far as I can tell.” He looks me right in the eyes. “But don’t tell
anyone what I just said if you know what’s good for you. It’s supposed to
be top secret. Classified.”
I nod. “I won’t say a thing.”
Dylan nods and says, “C’mon. My dad is over with the other
chaperones.”
“Hey, wait a sec. So, um, Elsie and I are doing our own investigating too.
Maybe we could all work together?”
He shrugs. “Maybe.” Then he turns and heads over toward his dad.
Maybe? I think, following.
Director Van Helsing breaks off from a group of adults once we get close.
“I saw you two head off by yourselves,” he says. “What was that about?”
“Sorry,” says Dylan with a smirk. “I was just telling Amari that she
should leave the investigating to those with actual experience.”
I glare at him. Why put me on blast like that? Especially in front of his
dad?
Director Van Helsing narrows his eyes. “I see.”
“Did you need anything else?” Dylan asks.
“No, that’s all, son,” says Director Van Helsing.
Dylan walks off and suddenly it’s just me and Director Van Helsing. I
just know I’m in trouble. I can’t even meet his eyes.
Director Van Helsing pulls out my card. “You’ve only written Junior
Agent here.”
“That’s . . . um, that’s what I want to do,” I say, trying to sound confident.
He sighs. “You want to follow in your brother’s footsteps. That’s
understandable—”
“That’s not the reason,” I interrupt. “I want to find out what happened to
my brother. Everything there is to know about Quinton is in the Department
of Supernatural Investigations. And the only way I can be there is to
become a Junior Agent.”
Even though he’s trying to look calm, I can tell he’s annoyed. “Whatever
the reason, you are clearly underestimating just how difficult it is to earn a position as Junior Agent. It’s not only the most competitive specialty here,
but you’ll be competing with students from longstanding legacy families
who have known about the supernatural world their whole lives. Children
with the means to visit the places you’ll only have read about. Private tutors
and the like. You’re at a tremendous disadvantage.”
“Maybe my chances aren’t great,” I say. “But Quinton had the same
disadvantage and he was able to make Junior Agent.”
“Your brother’s supernatural ability was quite literally SuperGenius
Aptitude—we could show him nearly anything once and he’d learn it, just
like that. He’s the exception, not the rule, Amari.”
I feel my shoulders droop. “But it’s still my choice, right?”
“Well, of course. I just want you be realistic. It may not be fair, but our
job is to choose the trainees who will make the best agents.”
“My badge shows I’ve got as much potential as anyone,” I say.
Van Helsing blows out a long breath. “Understand that you don’t get to
come back next summer and try again like the other children. You are a
magician, a criminal, and should you fail to prove you belong here, the
chief will have no choice but to implement my suggestion to take your
memories and send you home to be monitored. Trainees have until the first
tryout to transfer into a different specialty. After that you’re on your own.
There’s never been a moonstone badge recipient who failed a tryout. But
then, perhaps your being a magician is the only thing special about you.”
He turns to leave but stops himself. “And if I hear about you using
another spell in this building, especially in my daughter’s direction, you’re
gone, understand? Consider yourself extremely lucky that a witness
vouched for you. Goodnight, Miss Peters.”
The director stomps off. I could cry, I feel so discouraged.
My phone buzzes. It says I’ve got a new message on my profile, but last I
looked it was still set to private. So how could anyone find me? Curious, I
click on the flashing icon.