23

I DON’T HEAR FROM DYLAN UNTIL THE NEXT DAY. HE video calls me from
inside the Department of Supernatural Health sporting an ugly bruise on his
forehead. I must make a face because he says, “You should’ve seen me
before the Healers.”
“But you’re all right?” I ask. “Is your family okay?”
“Well, Mom and Lara were touring this year’s Heartland Crop Circle Art
Festival, so it was just me and Dad there when the hybrids stormed in. I
tried to fight them off as I ran to find him, but one of them clawed me pretty
good. We barely made it out of there.”
“Thank goodness,” I say. “I wasn’t sure what to think when I got that
strange phone call and video.”
Dylan’s expression turns serious. “I just keep thinking what if everyone
was home for the weekend like usual. Would we all have made it out?
Lara’s room is on that side of the house. Moreau’s people went after my
family, Amari. Again.”
“I know,” I say. “It’s awful.” Lara and I might not get along, but I’d never
wish for her to get hurt.
“Dad says the attacks were against old legacy families. Our house wasn’t
even the worst hit,” he says. “A lot of people got hurt. Some didn’t make it.
Billy Pogo’s Unnatural Luck saved him, but he lost both his parents. He’s
not coming back to the Bureau this summer.”
I shudder at the realization of what he’s saying. I couldn’t imagine losing
Mama.
“I want to be the one to stop them,” Dylan says solemnly. “Promise
you’ll help me make Junior Agent. You know we make a great team.” “I’ve already decided to go back,” I say. “Because I plan to be the one to
bring Quinton and Maria home.”
“Are we going to be VanQuish 2.0?” he asks with a small smile. “We
made a pretty good team the other day.”
I nod. “From now on we share whatever we find.”
“Deal.” Mama’s doing a lot better by the time Sunday comes around.
Neither of us brings up the other night. We mainly just talk about how
well I’m doing at “leadership camp.” It seems to lift her spirits some.
As we turn onto the treelined drive of the Vanderbilt Hotel I tell her how
I’m ranked first in my group. I leave out the part about me feeling like an
outsider, just like I did back at Jefferson Academy. That would only make
Mama worry, and she already looks exhausted from the extra shifts she’s
been working. She even worked a half shift this morning.
“I’m so proud of you, Babygirl. Doing well here can open so many doors
for you.”
“I know, Mama.” I meant to give a more cheerful answer, but the sight of
the hotel sends a shiver through me. As much as I’ve tried to prepare
myself, the thought of facing the other kids is still pretty scary. Especially
after the latest hybrid attack. If the other kids weren’t fond of having a
magician in the Bureau before, I can only guess what they’ll be thinking
now.
Mama looks at me for a second. “You’d tell me if anything was wrong,
wouldn’t you?”
“I’m fine,” I say. “Just feeling a little sleepy.” I even throw in a fake
yawn.
I’m not sure if a wellrested Mama would buy my excuse, but since she’s
as tired as I’m pretending to be, she just nods. “Okay, well make sure you
get some rest once you get to your room. Mama loves you.”
“I love you too,” I say.
I glance up at the hotel as we come to a stop in the dropoff area. Welp,
here goes.
I keep my head down as I move through the lobby and into the elevator. I
stand all the way in the back, behind a couple of mummies headed for the Department of the Dead. Once they’ve shuffled off into the gloom of the
department’s lobby, I ask the elevator to give me a few minutes to think.
The second tryout is the Friday after next, meaning I’ve got about eleven
days to learn as much as I can about Quinton and Maria’s disappearance
before I have to prove myself again. It’s not a lot of time.
My usual doubts creep in but then so do Jayden’s words. I’ve been
comparing myself to Quinton for too long. I passed the first tryout well
enough, so why can’t I pass the second?
And maybe I’m capable of finding VanQuish too. It’s time I start
believing in myself.
I think back on what I’ve learned so far: Moreau’s apprentice tried to
trade Quinton and Maria for Moreau’s release and possibly the Black Book.
But the Bureau refused, and Moreau’s apprentice started attacking the
Bureau with hybrids, including that awful attack last night.
Moreau said the reason my brother was kidnapped was that he found
something Moreau’s apprentice wanted—something Quinton shouldn’t
have been looking for. And Lara said Maria was helping him, even though
they weren’t partners anymore. But what did they find?
Our only clue? A calendar entry on Quinton’s computer from the night
they went missing. Something about contacting KH and a meeting with
Director Horus. Thankfully, the Director is supposed to return from the
Wandering Isles today.
Seeing as I’ve got no clue what KH stands for, there’s really only one
thing to do. “Take me to the Department of Good Fortunes and Bad
Omens,” I tell Lucy.
“That department can only be visited by appointment,” she replies.
“Would you like to schedule one?”
“I guess. When’s the soonest I can speak to Director Horus?”
“That would be the middle of next week,” says Lucy. “People tend to
book up spots for readings in uncertain times such as these.”
“That long?”
“Afraid so.”
“Fine. Just tell him it’s really urgent.”
I take a second to shake out my nerves once the elevator arrives at the
dormitories. The kids in the hallway just stare. I keep my eyes focused
straight ahead until I get to my door.
But the second my hand hits the knob I hear, “Why are you here? I look up to find Lara and Kirsten coming up the hall.
“Same reason you are,” I say. “I’m going to be a Junior Agent, and I’m
going to find my brother. And hopefully your sister too.”
“My sister doesn’t need any help from a Peters, got that?” Lara jabs a
finger in my direction. “You just focus on your own dumb brother.”
I just shake my head and turn back to my door.
“Guess you thought those hybrid attacks last night were fair payback for
that picture somebody left on your wall,” says Kirsten, crossing her arms.
I whirl back to face them. “Are you serious? I had nothing to do with
that.”
“So you say,” says Lara.
“You’re being dumb,” I say.
Kirsten steps closer. “Watch your back, freak.”
I take a step back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what it sounds like,” answers Lara.
“You three! Break it up!” calls Bertha from down the hall.
But I can’t let that be the end of it. I won’t let anyone intimidate me
anymore. I look them both square in the eyes and say, “I’m not scared of
you.”
“You should be,” spits Lara.
For as brave as I’m trying to be, the words still give me chills. Elsie arrives at the dorm just before lights out only half awake. She texted
me earlier to say she and her guardian were up all night volunteering to help
those who were hurt in last night’s hybrid attacks. My best friend smiles,
gives me a quick hug, and then falls over onto her bed fast asleep.
I had hoped to update her on what Dylan and I found on my brother’s
computer, since I haven’t gotten the chance yet, but it’s clear she needs the
rest.
Lights out comes and goes and I sit crosslegged on my bed with
Noteworthy Agents: Heroics, Scandals & Everythingin Between. I borrow
Elsie’s sneakandle and put it right up against the wall, so its light won’t
reach her. After reading VanQuish’s loooong entry near the end, I flip back
a few pages and skim through Agent Magnus’s paragraph to find that his
talent for being toughskinned got enhanced to steelskinned after touching the Crystal Ball. And Agent Fiona nearly caused an international incident
when, as a Junior Agent, she greatly offended the Origami Hive Mind by
insisting that scissors beats paper in a game of rock, paper, scissors.
The lightest knock—really more of a tap—sounds on my door. I slide out
of bed, tiptoe across the room, and just barely crack open the door to have a
look.
A pretty girl in a white flower tiara peeks through the sliver of doorway.
“Hello, Amari. I’m here to escort you to the Department of Good
Fortunes”—she grins wide—“and Bad Omens.” Her face falls.
“Really? I thought my appointment wasn’t until next week.”
“You’ve been granted a special ‘top priority’ appointment by the chief
herself. Something about ensuring that your being here won’t bring doom
and despair to the Bureau. . . . The usual. No biggie.”
“Oh, um, okay.” It sounds like a pretty big deal. “If I wanted to ask
Director Horus something important, could I?”
“Of course,” she replies. “But maybe wait till the end so you don’t
interrupt the show. Now get dressed. Oh, and bring your raincoat.”
“Why do I need a raincoat?”
“For the rain, silly!”
I close the door, a little dazed by the sudden turn my night has taken. In
the closet, my favorite pair of jeans and the jetblack I Heart Books Tshirt
Quinton got me last year are waiting for me. Matching black sneakers sit
just below them. This must be what I’m meant to wear because there’s even
a bright yellow raincoat with my moonstone badge attached to the front.
I dress quickly and turn off the sneakandle. In the hallway I get my first
good look at my Junior FortuneTeller escort. She’s wearing a fancy white
dress that glows in various places.
“Cool dress,” I say.
“Isn’t it? I made it myself,” the girl replies. “The secret is to weave
Christmas lights into the fabric.” She twirls and then curtsies. “The name is
January. Very pleased to make your acquaintance.”
I try to return the curtsy, but it ends up being an awkward bow. January
doesn’t seem to mind.
“Shall we?” she says.
As we move through the halls of the youth dormitories, more kids slip
out of their rooms. One girl emerges with a purple velvet cape and crown. A boy skips into the hallway in a thick fur coat, a large pair of antlers perched
atop his head.
“Are all of you from the Department of Good Fortunes and Bad Omens?”
January nods. “Our dress code is to wear whatever makes us happiest.
We’re a freespirited bunch.”
“Do you all make your own clothes?”
“A lot of us do. But honestly, if you go to the Duboise clothing website
on the othernet you can almost always find exactly what your mind has
dreamed up.”
That’s when I realize I’ve never seen anyone dressed like this during the
day. “Do you guys only work at night?”
“We do, but it’s not that unusual. There are quite a few departments with
nighttime business hours—the Department of Dreams and Nightmares, the
Department of the Dead, and I believe the Department of the Unexplained
as well. Oh, and the Department of Supernatural Health is always open
twentyfour hours a day.”
A girl dressed like Santa Claus rushes over to January and clutches both
her hands. “Let me guess. . . . Strawberries?”
January giggles. “You’re always getting your Futures and Histories
mixed up. Strawberries Jubilee was my name yesterday. Tonight I’m
January Winterfrost.”
The other girl nods her approval and then runs off to catch up with a
group up ahead. One of them is wearing a fully inflated blue balloon.
The others have already stopped an elevator for us. I scan their faces for
any sign of magicianhate, but they appear much more interested in each
other’s costumes. January gives them her thanks as the elevator doors shut.
I instantly recognize the elevator as Lucy.
“Not used to seeing you out and about this late at night,” says Lucy.
“She’s to meet with the Starlight Shaman himself,” says January.
Lucy coos. “That Director Horus sure has a dreamy voice.”
January blushes and they both laugh.
It surprises me when Lucy announces we’ve entered the Vanderbilt
Hotel.
“Are we going outside?” I ask, thinking about the raincoat in my arms.
“Yes and no,” says January.
Finally, Lucy says, “Now approaching the Department of Good Fortunes
and Bad Omens.” The doors open to a huge circular room that I realize must be the inside
of the large golden dome atop the hotel. The dome is split into halves—the
walls on the right side show cute furry animals in green meadows filled
with flowers of every color. Happy cherubs take aim at grinning couples,
and children laugh and dance.
The left side of the dome is totally different. Ugly monsters twist
themselves around dark spaces filled with angry green eyes. Some bare
sharp fangs, others have sneaky grins. All the people on this side look sad,
terrified, or furious.
I guess one side represents good fortunes while the other side represents
bad omens. I just hope my visit falls on the good fortunes side of things.
There’s a big white pillar in the middle of the room. A black staircase
wraps around it, leading up to the viewing end of a telescope that stretches
up to the ceiling.
Most of the room is filled with curved tables arranged in concentric
circles around the pillar. It reminds me of the solar system. If the pillar is
the sun, then these tables are like the orbits the planets take, making bigger
and bigger circles the farther you get away. The only difference is there’s a
walkway that leads straight from the elevator to the pillar.
As January leads me to the pillar, I glance at the little stations spread out
along the tables. Some have crystal balls that cloud up as we pass. A few
have stacks of tarot cards, and others have bowls with small bones inside.
On the bad omens side, I see a book titled Cursed or Blessed with Bad
Luck? A Subtle but Important Difference. Further ahead a blazing fire burns
with little pillows spread out around it.
January follows my gaze. “That’s for pyromancy. If you really
concentrate and stare into the fire for long enough, you’ll start to see
glimpses of the future amidst the flames. We’re trained in twelve different
methods of fortunetelling.”
Once we go around the pillar, I spot a doorway with a plaque that reads
Office of the Director.
We pause in the doorway. It’s pretty empty for an office. No desk or
chairs or anything on the walls. There’s only a big, darkskinned guy in deep
blue robes and a matching blue African kufi hat embroidered with silvery
stars. He sits with his back to us on a wide blue carpet with silver trim.
“Hello there,” he says in a deep, rumbling voice. The sound makes me
smile—it’s like faroff thunder. “Welcome to the Department of Good Fortunes and Bad Omens.”
“Thanks,” I say. “Um, glad to be here?”
Director Horus stands and turns with a swish of his robes. Golden eyes
gleam above his neatly trimmed goatee. “January, thank you for escorting
Amari. Do me a favor and check the conditions.”
“Will do,” says January. Before leaving, she glances to me and says, “He
always guesses my name right.”
Those golden eyes look to me now and Horus waves me inside. “Please
remove your shoes and have a sit on my carpet.”
I do what he says, and we both sit crosslegged across from one another. If
I wasn’t nervous about this meeting before, I certainly am now. “If you
decide my being here is a bad omen, does that mean I’ll be kicked out of the
Bureau?”
“Don’t worry yourself,” says Director Horus. “Tonight’s reading is
merely a precaution. Atlantians like Chief Crowe see every oddity as an
omen for calamity. So when a magician shows up at the Bureau around the
same time it’s being attacked, it’s only natural that the chief would want
answers.”
“Then you don’t think me being here is a bad omen?” I ask.
“I have learned to wait for what will be revealed to be revealed,” says
Director Horus.
That isn’t exactly the “no” I hoped for. But then, it isn’t a “yes” either.
“It’s pouring outside,” says January from behind me.
Director Horus grins. “Perfect.” He stands and stretches. “Are you ready
for a ride?”
I stand up too. “Um . . . sure.”
“Stand next to me on the center of the carpet,” says Director Horus.
January pulls open a hidden drawer in the wall, then reaches inside and
takes out a long silver staff. She tosses it over and Director Horus catches it
in one hand. January closes the drawer and then presses herself tightly
against the wall. Almost as if she’s trying to keep out of the way.
Pieces begin to click into place in my mind. “Wait . . .” I say, looking
down at the fancy blue carpet beneath our feet. “This isn’t a flying—”
“Go!” shouts Director Horus.
The carpet comes to life beneath our feet. It bucks and wriggles and then
jumps forward, bending at the edges to fit through the open doorway. We
fly in fast circles around the top of the dome, while a crowd of upturned faces cheers us on. A panel slides away and Director Horus spins his staff
until it becomes an umbrella that he opens with a flick of his wrist.
We dash out into blinding rain. I can sort of make out the litup windows
from tall buildings. Enough to figure out that we’re rising higher and
higher.
I grab hold of Director Horus’s arm. The rain comes at us sideways. I try
to get a look to see how he’s handling all this rain, but I can only just make
out the golden glint of his eyes. We continue like this, soaring through the
storm until suddenly the rain stops.
Next thing I know we’re above the clouds, a starry night sky all around
us. My teeth chatter as I pull my jacket on tighter. It’s cold up here.
Director Horus closes the umbrella and sets it down next to his bare feet.
That’s when I remember my own wet feet.
“A beautiful night,” he says, staring up at the sky.
“I’m soaked and freezing,” is all I can manage at the moment.
Director Horus grins. “As am I. But what we’re here to do won’t take
very long, I promise.”
How can he be so calm when I’m halfway to becoming an Amari
popsicle? “What are we here to do?”
“We’re here to cast constellations.” He points to the stars above. “These
constellations have been set for tens of thousands of years. They describe
the history of our planet itself, moving ever so slowly with the passage of
time.”
“What do they say?”
“I have no idea.” Director Horus laughs. “They’re written in language
long forgotten. But as you are very young, your constellation should be easy
enough to figure out.”
“My constellation?”
Director Horus nods. “Hold out your hand.”
I do. And then I watch as Director Horus reaches up to pluck a star right
out of the sky. He drops the speck of twinkling light into my palm. Then
another . . . and another. He continues until my hand is covered in a pile of
warm, shimmering flecks.
Finally, he says, “That should be plenty.” And with one broad swipe of
his staff he knocks loose the remaining stars from the sky. My eyes widen
as they drop down around us like glowing dust. An inky dark sky now
stretches out above us. “Am I really holding whole stars in my hand?” I ask.
“Not the stars themselves, but their spirits. Every natural thing exists in
two places, both here and there. If we are physically here, then we are
spiritually there. Likewise, if the stars are physically out there, then it only
makes sense for them to be spiritually here. Do you understand?”
“Not really,” I say.
Director Horus lets out a low chuckle. “Well, if you wish to learn more
about these things, you are more than welcome to come try out for my
department next summer. It’s been many a century since a moonstone badge
has graced our doors.”
“That moonstone badge is only because I’m a magician, I think.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. From what I’ve heard, you’ve done quite well
so far.”
I smile at that.
“We’ll begin with a look at your history,” Horus says next. “To
understand where you’re going, we must first understand where your blood
has been. Separate the stardust into two even piles on the carpet.”
I do as he says, carefully molding the mounds of light.
“Gather up the first pile of stardust and toss it as high as you can. Jump if
it helps.”
I scoop up a pile, cupping it with both hands. Then I bend my knees and
leap into the air, tossing the glowing sprinkles as far above me as I’m able.
The glowing pile soars, exploding against the sky like fireworks and then
reforming into a woman with an elaborate headdress. It shifts into a
crouching man with a spear lifted over his head. It changes again to a boy
on the edge of a cliff, his gaze on the horizon.
I try to be patient as the images continue to shift above me, but my
curiosity gets the best of me. “What do these images mean?”
“These are your ancestors. You are descended from great African tribal
queens, from fierce warriors who protected the innocent, from renowned
travelers who sought the thrill of adventure. Greatness, like all other traits,
can be passed down in the blood, from parent to child.”
The image continues to shift, this time into a young girl on her knees
before a man with a whip. It changes again to show men and women
marching, even against the blast of a fire hose. “There is resilience in your
blood too. The willpower to endure seemingly insurmountable obstacles. Though your ancestors were once slaves, their descendants fought for equal
rights.”
At the sight, I hold my chin high.
Then I see Mama’s face in the starlight, smiling as she holds a baby in
her arms. I hold my breath at the sight of Quinton’s proud face as he loads
the briefcase that started all this.
“These are the people who know you best,” says Director Horus. “You’ve
been greatly loved.”
My chin quivers. “I love them too.”
Director Horus spins his staff until the whole sky is filled with the faces
of my ancestors all at once. “Not a single magician in your family history.”
He spins the staff over his head and the stars wink out. “This is the history
of your magic, Amari. Completely blank. As if the magic truly began with
you. Fascinating.”
“It’s true then? I was born a magician?”
“Apparently so,” says Director Horus. “Though I’ve no idea what that
will mean for you. So let’s move on to the present and future. Cast the
second pile of stardust.”
I repeat the same motion as before, tossing the stardust high above my
head. There’s another explosion of white light and a twinkling bird takes
form.
“That bird represents you as you are right this moment. Notice it hasn’t
yet taken flight, its wings are outstretched, its head turned upward. The pose
suggests that you are capable of becoming truly special, reaching great
heights—”
Director Horus goes quiet and steps forward. The bird isn’t the only thing
being shown. The head of a snake emerges, and the creature winds itself
through the legs of the bird, coiling up around it. The director stares
intently, and I watch him, anxious to learn what this might mean.
A much larger twoheaded snake appears. I jump when both its heads bare
their fangs. Instead of backing down, the smaller snake shows its fangs too.
“This isn’t good,” says Director Horus. “I’ve seen that twoheaded snake
before. During my own castings while I was away in the Wandering Isles.
It’s why I cut my trip short and announced my return.”
“What’s it mean?” I ask.
Director Horus lifts his staff to the sky and waves it in wide circles. The
stars swirl above us until the image of a mighty elephant appears. “This represents the entire Bureau of Supernatural Affairs.” Seconds later the
twoheaded snake emerges, coiling itself around the elephant’s leg. It waits
there for a moment before climbing up to the elephant’s neck where it
strikes, bringing the animal to its knees.
This time when I shiver, it isn’t from the cold.
Director Horus narrows his eyes and strokes his chin. “Snakes have
typically represented magicians in these constellations, chiefly for their
potential to do great harm to the caster. You do not appear as a snake, likely
because it is your casting. I must admit, however, I don’t know what a
twoheaded snake might represent. It’s puzzling. Whatever the case, it would
seem you and the Bureau share a common enemy. And that concerns me.”
“Do you think the twoheaded snake could be Moreau and his
apprentice?” I ask. “That’s who’s planning to destroy the Bureau.”
“That would be the most logical guess,” he replies. “There is much in
your constellation that isn’t clear. The snake that sought to protect you, for
instance. I don’t suppose you have any idea who that magician might be?”
Dylan. It has to be. But I can’t give away his secret. “I don’t know.”
Director Horus frowns. “I’ll need to inform the chief about what we’ve
witnessed tonight.”
“Do I get to stay?” I ask.
“Absolutely. I saw nothing to indicate that you are a bad omen for the
Bureau. If anything, this constellation reinforces the need for protective
measures to be put in place to ensure your safety. I don’t advise you going
home for any more weekend breaks.”
“But what if I fail a tryout?” I ask.
“We’ll cross that bridge we get to it. But drastic measures would need to
be taken. Whatever this twoheaded snake represents, it has taken an interest
in you, Amari. And that appears to be a very dangerous position to occupy.”
While I think on those words, Director Horus twirls his staff and the stars
scatter, returning the night sky to normal.
“Before we go back,” I say, “could I ask you something? About my
brother?”
Director Horus nods thoughtfully. “You want to know why Quinton came
to see me on the night VanQuish went missing.”
“Yes,” I say. “Was it about his future?”
“He came to see me about reading the future, but not his own.” Director
Horus sighs. “It’s why I had to refuse. Unless it is an emergency, I can never reveal the future of one person to another. Such things are as private
as thoughts.”
“Was he asking about my future then?” I ask.
“Not yours,” he replies. “Maria’s. Your brother wanted to know if she
would ever betray the Bureau.”