Agents of the Glass (5 page)

Cutting Howard off mid-sentence, his voice still hanging in the air, Silas returned to the classical station. He turned the volume down low and scrolled through the contacts in his phone, landing on
Mrs. Cardigan
and pressing the call button.

“Have you seen Miss Huntley's story about the new NTRP show?” he asked, filling a kettle for tea.

“I have. Interesting girl. She may turn out to be quite useful. Anything new to report on the Wellbourne situation?”

“Yes, ma'am. I found someone who's perfect for the job. I'm certain of it. There's something about this kid….”

“You have my attention. Tell me about him. Or is it
her
?”

“Him
. His name is Andover Llewellyn, goes by Andy. He's the kid who almost got blown up in that bank heist on Friday.”

“Oh?”

“There's more to the story. Somehow, he ended up with a bag full of the bank's money, which he turned in the next morning. And then Melvin and I ran him through a little test, which he passed with flying colors. Now, are you ready for the strange part? Ironic, really.”

“Is this where you tell me that he's Howard Twopenny's son?”

Silas, who had been reaching for a mug in the cabinet above the sink, fumbled it, catching it inches before it smashed onto the counter. “How on
earth
could you possibly know that?”

“It's my job to know things like that. The important thing is, are you sure about this boy? As in, absolutely certain?”

“Yes, ma'am. He's the real thing, I'm sure of it. The father worries me a little, I'll admit. He's the unknown variable in this little equation.”

“Yes, you'll have to be careful. What do you know about him?”

“Not much. His show's been on the air for years, standard talk-show stuff: Congress stinks, the country's not what it used to be, people calling in and blaming all their problems on somebody else. Decent but not spectacular ratings. He did turn up once when I was doing a little surveillance on our friend from NTRP. They were chatting on a park bench. Might have been a coincidence.”

“There are no coincidences. See what else you can find out.”

“But I should proceed with the boy?”

“Definitely. I look forward to meeting this young man. One more thing: I met again with Karina Jellyby, and the announcement goes up on her website at midnight. I think you're right. We've been on the defensive long enough when it comes to NTRP. It is time to go on the offensive, to find out what they're up to…by any means necessary.”

A few minutes past midnight, after a third cup of strong tea, Silas brought up Karina Jellyby's website on his tablet and clicked on the News tab on her home page.

Big News!

If you're a fan, you know that my bandmates and I believe in doing GOOD, and we don't just talk the talk, we walk the walk! We are proud to say that half of our shows are for charity, and with the help of great fans (like you!), we have raised over three million bucks for organizations like Concern Worldwide, the International Committee of the Red Cross, and WhyHunger. (For a complete list of our partners,
click here
.)

We want to thank you for doing your part, but we wanted to do it with style, so we came up with a little contest to find our BEST, MOST COMMITTED fans. It's not what you think, though! We're not looking for fans who know the name of Sdix's first dog, or what size shoe Charles C. Charles wears, or the name of the street where I grew up. Nope. We're looking for fans who are helping to make the world a “warmer” place by taking part in Operation THAW.

(If you're a newbie fan, THAW = Two Hours a Week, which is the amount of time we ask all our fans to commit to doing good. Local or global, we don't really care. All we ask is that you GOYB—that's Get Off Your Butt—for two hours a week and do something for somebody! For more information and THAW opportunities in your town,
click here
.)

And now the contest! Here's all you have to do:

1. Click on the THAW Contest Entry button on the home page.

2. Read all the contest rules, even the legal mumbo jumbo that our lawyer makes us include! Sorry, but the contest is open only to students in grades 7 to 12!

3. Fill in the short form that tells us a little about you and how we can contact you.

4. In 500 words or less, tell us about your THAW experience: what you did, how you did it, who you helped, what's next—that kind of stuff.

Now the Good News: The best entry of each day of the contest wins a T-shirt and free download of our new album!

But wait! As they say on TV…there's more! There is GREAT News! The 250 most inspiring, most incredible, most awesome entries will be our special guests at a special concert JUST FOR YOU! You read that right—you, me and the band, and 249 of our closest friends! Oh, and one more thing: We're putting together EPIC goody bags for all 250 winners.

Well? What are you waiting for? GOYB and get those entries in!

On Wednesday morning, Andy walked to Wellbourne Academy for his first official day of school. The school was only a few blocks from his apartment. He had passed by it many times but had always kept some distance between himself and those throngs of blazered boys and girls who seemed to exist in a parallel universe—one with nicer clothes, better hair, and straighter teeth. Yet somehow, there he was—uncomfortable in the crested blazer and charcoal-gray trousers that had mysteriously appeared at his door the day before—standing across the street and wondering how on earth he'd arrived at that moment and what lay ahead. The light changed three times while he waited.

“It's going to be okay,” Silas said, kneeling behind him and pretending to tie his shoe. “You're ready for this, Andy. Just be yourself.” By the time Andy realized who it was, Silas was already half a block away, watching as his newest recruit took a deep breath and stepped off the curb.

Andy had missed all the usual new-student orientation meetings because of his very late enrollment, so the headmistress, Dr. Everly, had called to welcome him to the school and to answer any questions. Now, standing on the top step at the main entrance, she cut an imposing figure, a stylish, fiftyish woman in a black dress. Her hair, glistening in the morning sun like polished stainless steel, hung past her shoulders as she scanned the sidewalk, awaiting the return of the army of Wellbourne students—
her
army.

She met Andy at the doors at seven-thirty-five. “Mr. Llewellyn, I presume?” she said, shaking his hand. “I'm Dr. Everly. We spoke on the phone yesterday.”

“Oh, hi,” said Andy, looking around for other students. “I guess I'm a little early.”

“A little, but that's all right. I'll show you where the main office is and how to get to your homeroom. Today's an easy day. You'll get your schedule and meet all your teachers, and you'll be assigned an SA—that's a student advisor. Most of your classmates have been here since kindergarten, so they will be able to help you, too, but here at Wellbourne, everyone in the upper school gets a ‘buddy'—it's an important part of who we are. Ah, here she is now! Welcome back, Winter. I'd like you to meet a new student, Andover Llewellyn. You're going to be his advisor this year. Andover, this is Winter Neale, one of Wellbourne's star pupils.”

Andy's bottom lip fell open—just a crack—when he turned and got his first look at Winter. At first, he thought she was standing on the next step above him. She towered over Andy, who was still awaiting his growth spurt, by nearly six inches. Her uniform was
perfect,
he noticed, looking as if it had been pressed and starched to the crispness of a new dollar bill, and her hair, blue-black and reaching the middle of her back, hung in a flawless, satiny sheet.

“Pleased to meet you, Andover,” she said, shaking his hand with a firm grip. Pointing at the bandage on his forehead, she added, “What happened to your head?”

“I, uh, had a little—”

“I'm sorry, it's none of my business,” said Winter, her perfect white teeth almost blinding him. “I'm just naturally nosy, I guess.”

“It's all right. I fell. A few stitches.”

“Ouch.” She pointed at the earbuds hanging around his neck. “What were you listening to?”

“Um, Karina Jellyby. Do you know her?”

“Sure. She's okay, I guess. Did you know that she went to school here? Pretty cool, huh? Her name was Karina Carmichael then. Who knows where she got Jellyby.
^*
Where were you before…Wait, let me guess. Birch Wathen? No, Buckley. That's right, isn't it? You definitely seem like the Buckley type.”

“I, uh, actually, Wagner, on Seventy-Sixth.”

“Really? Wow, public school. I know some kids who go there. Well, you're going to
love
it here. Wellbourne is the best. The teachers, the other kids, Dr. Everly—all
amazing.
”

“Why don't you give Andover a quick tour of the school before homeroom, Winter? He just registered the other day and didn't have a chance to go through the usual orientation process. You can drop him off in his homeroom when you're done.”

“Sure thing, Dr. Everly. Come on, Andover,” said Winter, leading him through Wellbourne's enormous, freshly polished bronze doors for the first time. “So, does everyone call you Andover? Here, let me see your schedule.”

“Andy, usually.” As he handed her the paper, he noticed Winter's strange pale eyes, but he quickly looked away so she wouldn't think he was staring.

“Good. You have Ms. Albemarle for English. She
rocks.
I learned so much from her last year. Oh! And I see you signed up for the BC!”

“I did?”

“That's what it says here. The schedule doesn't lie.”

“Huh. What is it?”

“The Broadcast Club. It used to be a newspaper, but now it's the school's TV station. Everyone has to be in at least one club, and it's the best. You're going to love it. Ms. Albemarle is the moderator. The only thing is, the older kids usually take all the good jobs and try to hog all the interesting stories, but there's still lots to do if you're creative, and willing to work. There's a meeting today after school. You can come, right? Actually, you
have
to come,” she said, smiling.

“I guess so. Although I'm still not really sure how I…Yeah, I'll come.”

Ten minutes later, Winter took him up the elevator to his homeroom on the seventh floor. “Remember, you can use the elevator on the right before and after school, but not during the day. Don't worry, most of your classes will be on six and seven. Except PE. And lunch, of course. We have the same lunch period, so look for me when you come down, okay? Any questions so far? I feel like I've been doing all the talking and not giving you a chance.”

“Uh…no, not yet, anyway. Except…um…this whole ‘buddy' thing. How is it supposed to work?”

“Oh, that's easy. For the first few weeks, we're supposed to meet every day to, you know, make sure that you're fitting in and understanding your assignments and everything. After that, it's totally up to you. Who knows, you may decide that you hate me and don't
ever
want to talk to me,” said Winter, her pale eyes flashing as she laughed.