25

AGENT FIONA THROWS HER ARMS OPEN AND SHOUTS, “Welcome to the second
tryout! By the end of the day, we’ll be sayin’ goodbye to half the remaining
trainees, bringing our numbers down from sixteen to eight. But if ye do pass
this tryout, then all you’ll need to worry about is the finale next week. No
more surprises. I’m sure the lot of ye could do with a bit more certainty in
your lives.”
The sixteen of us sit in the briefing auditorium of the Department of
Supernatural Investigations. Agent Fiona and Agent Magnus stand onstage
next to a large basket of eggs. You know you’ve been here for a while when
weird stuff like that doesn’t even faze you. I’ve been looking around for
Dylan since I got here, but there’s no sign of him or his sister.
“In a moment, we’re gonna ask that ye partner up and send one
representative from each pairing up to the stage to collect your first clue—”
Magnus leans over and says something in Agent Fiona’s ear. “My
apologies! I haven’t even said what you’re getting a clue for, have I? This
tryout is a treasure hunt, seeking to test your ability to puzzle out clues in
highpressure situations. An agent has gotta be quick on their feet to
determine the next move. To that end, we’ll be sending each pair on a
unique path through the Bureau. In each location you’ll receive a new clue
that leads to the next department. The first four pairs to finish the treasure
hunt will receive an invite to the finale. Go on and pair up.”
Kids jostle to get a seat next to their partners. I look for Dylan but he’s
nowhere to be found. If he waits much longer I might have to go it alone.
With everything that’s riding on this tryout, just the thought makes me
nervous. Dylan and Lara finally walk in together. From the way they glare at each
other, I can tell they’ve probably been arguing. Lara turns her back on him
as he’s talking and goes to partner up with Kirsten. Dylan just rolls his eyes
and glances around the auditorium. I wave a hand.
He comes over and takes the seat next to me.
“You and Lara not getting along?” I ask.
Dylan sighs and shakes his head. “I might’ve promised her that we’d be
partners once we were able to choose. But that was before the summer.
Things change, you know? I bet she’s going to rush off and whine to Dad if
she doesn’t do well in this tryout.”
I can’t believe Dylan is willing to anger his dad and Lara just to be my
partner. “Well, um, thanks for not bailing on me.”
He shrugs. “Partners, remember?”
Agent Fiona calls out, “Our firstplace team decided to remain partners it
seems. Both of ye come on down and collect the first clue. You’ll get a
thirtysecond head start on the rest of the trainees. Doesn’t sound like a lot,
but you’ll get the benefit of not havin’ to share an elevator.”
I let Dylan reach into the basket to select our clue. It comes in an egg that
looks so real I’m half expecting to find a yolk inside. Once every team has
one, Agent Fiona says, “And dontcha give us hard time about our clues
either. We aren’t poets, after all. Dylan and Amari, go on and start us off!”
Dylan crushes the egg in his palm and unfolds the paper inside. I read as
fast as I can.
That thing in the shed, was it even real?
The girl on the phone says, “It’s no big deal.”
He can’t believe it. “It tried to eat me!”
The girl on the phone disagrees completely.
“I’m a surgeon, I’ll fetch my laser!”
“Please calm down. Help’s on the way, sir.”
A bit more fussing, then, “Finally, they’re here.”
And with the press of a button she erases his fear.
“Has to be the Department of Half Truths and Full CoverUps,” says
Dylan. “They’re responsible for any accidental contact between humans
and the supernatural world.”
“Right,” I say. “All 911 calls that deal with the supernatural get
forwarded to the Call Center.” Dylan and I race out of the auditorium and down the main hall of the
Department of Supernatural Investigations to the elevators. I glance over
my shoulder as Luciano the elevator opens up in front of us. As our doors
close, the rest of the trainees come storming out of the auditorium. The
treasure hunt is officially on.
I’m actually glad that we got Luciano. He may not move as fast as Lucy,
but he sings us a soft ballad that calms my nerves. Dylan can’t keep still,
he’s so worked up. He keeps bouncing back and forth from foot to foot.
“Now approaching the Department of Half Truths and Full CoverUps,”
croons Luciano.
The doors open up to what I think is the coolest lobby in the whole
Bureau. It’s pretty much the wall over Elsie’s bed on steroids. Every inch is
lined with covers from famous magazines from the known world, like Time
and National Geographic, only they’ve changed the pictures to show what
really happened. I’ve only seen the lobby a few times, when somebody else
would get off on this f loor, but I’ve got a favorite cover that I look for
every time. Instead of that famous Life magazine cover showing an
astronaut on the moon, it says “Apollo 11 Gets Tow from Friendly Alien
Cruiser after Running Out of Fuel.” The image of Neil Armstrong reaching
out into space to give a hitchhiker’s thumb cracks me up every time. The
invasion of mutant concreteeating termites that brought the Berlin Wall
down is definitely second place. The giant termites are all wearing Mutants
for World Peace Tshirts.
Me and Dylan rush through the lobby and into the main hall. It’s like ten
times as busy as the Department of Supernatural Investigations. Who are all
these people? It’s a good thing we learned these floors by heart or I’d have
no idea where to go next.
We keep close to the wall and move around the right side of the U till we
get to the Call Center. The place is enormous. Rows and rows and rows of
people sit in little cubicles in front of bright red telephones. The place
seems to go on forever.
“What now?” I ask.
Dylan shrugs.
So we wander the aisles, listening to DoubleTalkers and Junior
DoubleTalkers at work.
“You say your motherinlaw is haunting you? Assuming what you’re
saying is true . . . might you deserve it?” “Try two plus two. . . . The calculator said it equals five? Oh, this is
serious. The math gods are clearly upset with you. You’ll be wanting to
make an inperson apology. You can make an appointment at the nearest tax
office.”
One Junior DoubleTalker puts his caller on hold to ask the girl in the
cubicle next to him, “Jenny, any chance you brought a spare hypnosis
radio?”
Jenny rolls her eyes. “Yes, but this is the last time I’m letting you borrow
it. You don’t have to replace everyone’s memories, you know.” She reaches
into her bag and hands the boy something that looks like a TV remote. I
recognize it from the delivery guy who dropped off Quinton’s briefcase.
“You’re a lifesaver.” The boy mashes a few buttons and soft music starts
playing. He places his caller on speakerphone. “Are you listening . . . ? Yes,
that is some smooth jazz, isn’t it? Now then, repeat after me. ‘That wasn’t a
mummy I saw in the woods, but rather an unfortunate fellow who survived
a plane crash and needed a full body cast. . . .’ Yes, I daresay the bloke
might be a bit put off by you running away in terror and all. . . . No,
definitely don’t go back and apologize . . .”
Dylan and I walk the entire first two aisles before we spot an empty
cubicle with a little sign that says Reserved for Junior Agent Trainees
attached to the phone. I plop down in the chair and Dylan drops to a knee
beside me. It starts ringing.
“I bet we’re supposed to answer it,” says Dylan.
“But . . . oh, okay.” I pick up the phone. “Hello?”
“I’ve got a bit of an issue,” the voice responds.
“Okay. Maybe I can help?” I ask. “What’s wrong?”
“Well, I seem to have a clue and no one to tell it to,” says the voice.
My eyes go wide and I turn to meet Dylan’s curious gaze. “It’s the next
clue.” I put the caller on speakerphone. “You can tell it to us.”
The voice clears his throat. “Finding this clue was easy enough. But don’t
you get cocky, ’cause now it gets tough. Head to a room of dangerous
things—fangs and claws and barbs that sting. Locate the beast that’s not
like the rest, with a heavenly name created in jest.”
I swallow. “The only department that keeps beasts is the Department of
Creature Control. Fangs and claws? It must be the predators section, right?”
“No way they’d really let us get eaten.” Dylan lets out a nervous laugh.
“At least I don’t think they’d let us get eaten . . .”

We get Lucy this time, and she zips us up to the Department of Creature
Control.
I know from cramming Ins and Outs that the Department of Creature
Control is the largest floor in the entire Bureau. It’s as big as all the other
departments combined. Aside from the lobby, it’s all wilderness. Well, an
indoor wilderness.
“I’m the Senior Wilderness Ranger assigned to you guys today,” says a
lady in safari gear. “Name’s Becca Alford.” She gives each of us a gloved
handshake. “So . . . where to?”
“The predators section,” says Dylan.
The lady smiles. “Scary place for newcomers. You sure?”
“Pretty sure,” I say.
Ranger Alford gives us a thumbsup. “Follow me outside. I’ve already got
the jeep running.”
We step out of the lobby onto a grassy hilltop, and my jaw drops. You’d
never know we were still indoors. The massive hologram on the ceiling
looks just like a cloudless blue sky. I can even feel the warmth of the sun on
my face. Real wind whips around us—it even smells like the outdoors.
And this view! A wide forest stretches below us, and beyond that is a
lush green jungle. To our right, way in the distance, is a snowy valley. It’s
the exact opposite of the sandy desert far off to our left.
I reach down and pluck a blade of grass. “No way. This is real!”
Ranger Alford laughs. “Sure is. The only thing that’s fake out here is the
sky. We’ve done everything in our power to give these critters as authentic a
habitat as we can while they’re here.”
“Cool,” I say.
We hop in the jeep and Ranger Alford drives us down a winding dirt trail.
As the woods thicken into jungle, we pass all kinds of wildlife—everything
from a silvery white unicorn to a pack of flying pigs, and even a
kaleidoscopic serpent that leaves a shimmering rainbow trail in the sky.
We slow to a stop in front of a sign that says Jungle Habitat.
Ranger Alford turns to face us in the back seat. “The jungle predators are
all kept in this first section. Remember, the things we’re about to see in here
are called predators for a reason. Don’t leave the jeep unless I say it’s safe.
You two are allowed to ask me as many questions as you’d like but if I have
to step in to save either of you, you’ll both automatically fail the tryout. Got
it?” “Got it,” we both answer.
We continue down the dirt trail, but a lot slower. Ranger Alford’s
expression is serious now, and she’s constantly watching the trees.
I jump in my seat when, out of nowhere, a streak of gold flashes across
the trail in front of us. It disappears into the bushes. A deafening roar rattles
the jeep doors. Dylan and I both lean into one another and duck our heads,
just in case whatever that was tries to take a swipe at us. As the trail curves
we catch sight of a gigantic lion made of pure gold atop a small hill.
“That’s a Nemean lion,” whispers Ranger Alford. “The true kings of the
jungle. At least when there aren’t any dragons around.”
And that’s not even the scariest thing we encounter. A swamp beast
covered in horns peers up at us through the murky water. Dylan points outs
a griffin that swoops down in the distance and emerges with some poor
creature in its beak.
“Stop!” Dylan shouts. He points to a large flowery bush in a small
clearing. “There, that’s it! It has to be.”
“We’re here for a flower bush?” I ask, unimpressed.
“That’s no flower bush,” he says. “That’s a Mars mantrap. Think about it.
‘Locate the beast that’s not like the rest.’ All the other predators are
animals; this is the only plant. And the second part, the ‘heavenly name
created in jest’? Well, the planet Mars is in space, making it a heavenly
body. And it’s called a Mars mantrap as a joke comparing it to the Venus
flytraps of the known world.”
Ranger Alford grins at us in the rearview mirror. “Shucks, you nailed it.”
She steers the jeep into the clearing.
“Good job,” I say, a little stunned. “I’d never have figured that one out.”
“My tutor would be proud,” Dylan says with a laugh.
We jump out of the truck. Becca and Dylan are quick to squeeze their
noses shut. But why—
The sweetest scent hits my nose and I suddenly get lightheaded. Not that
I care. I just want to go over and smell those beautiful flowers up close. I
take a few steps and then feel myself get yanked back. Somebody has the
nerve to throw an arm around me and put their hand over my nose. “Let me
go! I want one of those flowers . . .”
I blink a couple times as my head clears.
“The scent lures you in close so it can eat you,” says Dylan. “Be careful,” Ranger Alford warns. “If it looks like one of you two are in
real danger, I won’t hesitate to step in.”
That was a close one. I reach up to hold my own nose. “Thanks. I’m
good now.”
Dylan points to a small white rectangle just in front of the flower bush.
“I’ll bet that’s the next clue.”
“But how do we get to it without becoming that thing’s dinner?”
“Good question,” he replies.
Good question. I remember what Ranger Alford said earlier. “You said
we could ask questions, right?”
“That’s right,” she replies.
“How does it know when you’re close to it?”
“Some of those blossoms are actually eyes,” she answers. “It’s watching
us right now.”
Well, that’s creepy. But it also gives me an idea. “Hey, follow me.”
I lead Dylan and Ranger Alford out of the clearing. We all crouch behind
the jeep. “Okay, don’t freak out, but I want to show you something.”
They look at me, confused.
“You want to show us something now?” asks Dylan.
“Just watch.” I make a fist and cover it with my other hand. “Duplicarta.”
A second me pops into existence. Dylan holds in a laugh, but Ranger
Alford swallows, then asks, “Is that magic?”
I nod. “But I think I can use it to help us, if you’ll give me permission.” I
just have to hope our chaperone is openminded enough to give me a chance.
“Well . . .” Ranger Alford looks uncomfortable. “Spells aren’t really
allowed inside the Bureau.” She shakes her head slowly. “But it doesn’t sit
right with me for all the others to be allowed to use their abilities and you
not. And I suppose no one said it was against the rules of the tryout.”
A few minutes later we’re all in position. Me underneath the jeep with a
view of the clearing. Dylan and Ranger Alford wait in the brush at the edge
of the clearing. Dylan gives me a thumbsup. This had better work, because
if it doesn’t, Ranger Alford made it clear she’ll disqualify us.
“Duplicarta,” I whisper. An illusion of me appears in the clearing. I try to
give Illusion Amari a dazed look as she stumbles toward the flowers. From
here, I see the bush shiver as she gets closer. Just a few more steps . . .
A great big mouth emerges from the bushes, chomping at the air where
Illusion Amari stands. But now I make Illusion Amari hover in the air just above the plant. It snaps viciously at her, again and again.
While the beast is distracted, Dylan and Ranger Alford dash out into the
clearing. Dylan snatches the envelope off the ground and they both make it
back to the jeep without the Mars mantrap even realizing what happened.
I let Illusion Amari disappear and the thing lets out a furious growl.
“I can’t believe that worked,” says Dylan as he rips open the envelope.
“Me neither,” says a stunned Ranger Alford. “You were supposed to feed
it the slumber berries in these bushes. But you managed it well enough.”
Dylan rips open the envelope and pulls out the next clue.
“Congratulations on not being food, but I do hope you’re in a deciphering
mood. Your next destination, put clear and plain, is the baffling Department
of the Unexplained. Obtaining the last clue will require some wit, for it lies
near the bottom of a bottomless pit.”
“At least we know where to go,” I say.
Dylan groans. “For all the good that does us.”
As we ride back to the lobby of the Department of Creature Control, I
catch Ranger Alford looking at me in the rearview mirror.
“You can control your magic?” she asks me.
“So far,” I shrug. “I really only know a few things.”
“But I was always told . . . I thought that too much magic . . .” She
shakes her head. “You’re just an ordinary twelveyearold girl from what I
can tell. Smiling, goodnatured. I guess what I’m trying to say is you’re not
what I was expecting.”
I smile. “That’s a good thing, I hope.”
“It certainly is,” she says. “I’ll think you’ll change a lot of minds while
you’re here, Amari Peters.”
Once we’re back at the lobby, me and Dylan sprint back to the elevators.
I spend the whole ride down to the Department of the Unexplained praying
Mischief won’t snitch on me for sneaking out to go meet magiciangirl18
aka Dylan to the two agents sharing the elevator with us. Thankfully all it
does is taunt them with an, “I know something you don’t know . . .”
The lobby of the Department of the Unexplained is pitchblack. When we
step off the elevator a spotlight in the ceiling shines down on us. It follows
us to the back of the lobby where a second spotlight shines down on a boy,
fast asleep.
Dylan gives him a nudge and the boy jumps to his feet.
“Ah, there you are,” the boy says. “Many apologies. Our department is
closed during the day, so I’d usually be in bed right now. Anyway, I’ll be
your guide tonight—I mean today. I trust you know where you’re headed?”
“The bottomless pit,” I say.
“Right,” answers the boy. “Unexplained oddities are on the right side of
the U. Please follow me.”
“Aren’t you going to tell us your name?” Dylan asks.
The boy turns around. “No. And for that matter, I don’t plan on
answering any of your questions either. You do get that you’re in the
Department of the Unexplained?”
Our Junior Curator leads us into the main hallway, which is at least a
little brighter. It’s still dim enough that these spotlights continue to follow
us around, but a bit of light reaches us from all the great big rooms blocked
off by dark red curtains.
We pass one curtain with a sign out front that reads: What happens when
an unstoppable force strikes an immovable object? Dylan drifts closer, but
the boy says, without even turning around, “Lay a finger on that curtain and
you’re disqualified.”
“Not even a peek?” asks Dylan.
“No questions,” says the boy.
The next curtain says Cause of the Bermuda Triangle. It’s followed by
Wormhole to Parallel Universe and Origin of Both the Chicken and the
Egg. Finally, we arrive at a curtain labeled The Bottomless Pit.
We pass through the curtain. It doesn’t look like anything special. It’s just
a boring stone well in the middle of the floor. I’m disappointed.
I lean over to have a look inside. Pitch darkness.
“Careful,” says the Junior Curator. “If you fall in, they’ll never be able to
get you out. You’ll just keep falling forever.”
I don’t even know how many times Dylan and I circle the pit. It just
doesn’t make sense. How do you get near the bottom of something that
doesn’t have a bottom? Dylan even tries dropping a quarter into the pit to
see what happens. No surprise, it never hits the bottom.
“What now?” I say.
“Beats me,” Dylan replies.
I’m starting to sweat. Even Dylan keeps wiping his face with his sleeve. I
keep thinking of other pairs completing their treasure hunts and getting their
invitations to the finale while we bake in this hot room.
“Don’t you guys have airconditioning in here?” I ask the Junior Curator.
He flinches.
“Wait, you flinched.”
He shakes his head. “Did not.”
“I saw it too,” says Dylan. He wipes the sweat from his forehead. “It
must have something to do with the airconditioning.”
“But what does airconditioning have to do with a bottomless pit?” I
search the ceiling, then the walls. Finally, I look on the floor. And there they
are. “They’ve got floor vents!”
Dylan raises an eyebrow. “Which means?”
“Think about it,” I say. “They cut off the AC in here for a reason.”
“Oh!” says Dylan. “Because we’re supposed to go down there!”
“How much do you want to bet that one of the ducts goes right under the
bottom of the bottomless pit?” Once we scramble over to the vent, I know
I’m right. All the screws are missing. Dylan lifts the vent up and a wide
metal duct curves out of view.
“You’re smaller, so you can probably get to the clue quicker,” says
Dylan.
I nod and drop down inside. “It’s so dark down here. How will I know
which way to go?”
“Wait here,” says Dylan. “I’ll go to the bottomless pit and shout. Tell me
if you hear an echo.”
A few seconds later, “Hellooo” echoes softly in the distance.
Dylan comes back. “Could you hear me?”
“Yeah,” I say. “Just keep shouting.”
Dylan disappears and I start crawling. It’s a little scary in here but I
concentrate on Dylan’s voice. Just get to that voice.
I move down the duct, turn, and then turn again into dim light. A tiny
little flashlight points upward. I crawl closer until I get to a photograph
taped to the top of the duct. It looks like a large pirate ship falling over a
waterfall. When I flip it over I expect to find words, but it’s blank. I’ve got
no clue what it’s supposed to mean. I grab the little flashlight and find my
way back.
I hand the photo to Dylan. He stares at it and then flips it over. “The
photo is all there was,” I say.
“This is the edge of the world,” says Dylan.
“Um, last time I checked the world is round. It doesn’t have edges.”

“It does have one. But it’s hidden.”
We lock eyes and say at the same time, “The Department of Hidden
Places.”
We race to the elevators and dart between the legs of a tall green ogre
about to step into Lucy. “Sorry!” I call back as the doors shut. “We’re in a
hurry!”
Lucy chuckles. “Bet you’re glad you got me. Where we headed, guys?”
She zips us down to the underground tunnels and we sprint past the neon
sign that says Department of Hidden Places this way—or is it? The best
part about this being the final destination is that the secret to finding this
department was written in Ins and Outs. I can even remember the page,
290. We keep our hands above our heads, even as the tunnels get dark, until
I feel a large button graze my fingertips. I jump and give it a good press.
Suddenly the floor beneath us shivers and then lifts us up through the
ceiling and into the lobby of the Department of Hidden Places. Enormous
portraits of lost cities line the walls, with plaques revealing their names as
ShangriLa, Avalon, and Shambhala.
We dash over to an agent standing next to a small table. The lady looks
us over. “Very good. You two have officially completed all the clues and
earned invitations to the finale. However, I must say that I find it extremely
odd that the times this year were so much faster than in previous years. I’m
more than a little suspicious. Did either of you hear anything about this
tryout that might have given you an advantage? Cheating will not be
tolerated.”
Dylan and I look at one another. We did hear something. It’s how we
knew to study Ins and Outs. Now that we’ve been caught, it makes me
wonder how we ever thought we’d get away with it. These guys conduct
investigations for a living.
I can’t believe I ruined Quinton’s legacy like this. It’s bad enough that
Quinton’s little sister is a cheater. I won’t make it worse by lying.
The agent smiles. “It’s good to know that you didn’t cheat—”
“Wait,” I say. “We did hear something.”
Dylan starts at my words, but then he drops his head. “It’s my fault. I
heard the tryout was based on Bureau knowledge and I told Amari about
it.”
“But I didn’t tell him to report it. And I definitely studied my brains out
to be ready.”

The agent crosses her arms, frowning. “I’m disappointed in both of you.
To have elite badges and choose to cheat is a disgrace. I’m sorry to say this
but . . . congratulations, you’ve officially passed the second tryout. You’ve
shown the integrity and honest character befitting a future agent of the
Department of Supernatural Investigations.”
It takes a few seconds to sink in. “You’re saying we passed? Even though
we cheated?”
The lady chuckles. “We leaked that information on purpose. This was not
only a test of how well you decipher clues but, more importantly, a test of
whether you are honest when it is most difficult to be honest. Supernaturals
must be able to trust you. As must your fellow agents.”
She hands us each an invitation from beneath the table and Dylan and I
laugh all the way back to the elevators.
“We did it,” says Dylan. “We really made it to the finale.”
I lean my head back against the wall and close my eyes. “We’ve still got
a chance to bring them home.”
“They’d be proud of us,” says Dylan.
I can’t get my words out so I simply nod, tears running down my cheeks.
Dylan takes my hand and for a long time we just stand like that.