Mystics #1: The Seventh Sense (17 page)

Zoey continued, “You see—I don’t know who my parents are because I’m
an orphan. But a dying man told me that I looked like a woman he knew—that we
had the same hair. He told me to look for her in Troll City. I only came here
to look for her—to talk to her—that’s all.”

“She does have the same hair as Elizabeth,” said Crusher, “and she
looks like her, too.”

“Shut up!” roared Rusty.

He jumped off his throne and walked over to the cage.

He eyed Zoey suspiciously. “Hmmm. You do look like her—a lot like
her.”

Zoey’s eyes widened. “You know her? Is she here? Please—I need to
see her. Can I see her?”

A wave of sadness passed in
Rusty’s
eyes.
“She’s not here. Not anymore.”

“What? What do you mean?” Zoey felt empty.

Rusty looked away from Zoey and unlocked the cage. He opened the
door.

“You should leave.”

Tristan and Simon followed Zoey out of the cage.

Zoey looked down at Rusty. “Please, if you know anything, I’ve been
searching all my life for my parents.”

When Rusty looked up at her, tears brimmed his eyes. He wiped his large
nose on the back of his hand. “She was sent to us as a prisoner. We were paid
to keep her and to torture her.”

“You tortured her!” Zoey’s voice cracked. Blood rushed to her face. If
her hands had not been bound she would have punched him.

Rusty shook his head. “No, of course not. I loved her…we all did.
She was
our
Elizabeth.”

Suddenly, the entire leprechaun gang started to cry like little
girls. They howled loudly and wept. And then they all hugged each other, as
though they had lost someone dear to them. It was touching to watch, but ugly
at the same time.

Zoey turned away from the crying leprechauns. “You said she wasn’t
here anymore—so what happened to her?”

Rusty dabbed his tears with a green handkerchief. “We were
instructed to imprison her for life, but we couldn’t—we just couldn’t—not our
sweet, loving, dear, Elizabeth. She stayed here for about ten years, and then we
let her go.”

Rusty’s
bottom lip
quivered, and he burst into tears again.

Zoey’s anger for the leprechauns had melted away and for a moment
she wondered if she should comfort Rusty, but then he
did
imprisoner her and her friends and threatened to
kill
them. But something didn’t make
sense.

“Who paid you to keep her a prisoner?” she said. “Why was she a
prisoner at all?”

Rusty’s
crying had
become so hysterical that he choked on his sobs and could not answer.

Warty answered for him.

“The Alphas,” he said, with a touch of anger in his voice. “And they
paid us a heavy sum to keep it secret, too. They didn’t want anyone to know she
was here.”

Warty padded his boss’s shoulders tenderly. “But we were good to our
Elizabeth, boss, weren’t we?”

“I’m lost—what are the Alphas?” asked Zoey.

It was Tristan’s turn to speak. “The Alpha Nation is a group of
Sevenths who objected to living with mystics. They hate everything to do with
human and mystics. Alphas have been around like for a very long time. They
believe that mystics should be returned to the Nexus—or destroyed
permanently
.”

“He’s right,” agreed Simon. “The Alphas don’t believe in treaties. They’re
completely crazy. But it doesn’t make any sense that they would send a Seventh
to be imprisoned here.”

“They never told us anything,” said Rusty, and he blew his nose
loudly. “They just paid us to be quiet. They figured no one would ever come
here to look for her. They were right—until now.”

Zoey felt cold and empty. She had come all this way and disobeyed the
agency to find her mother—only to find out that she wasn’t even here. Her great
plan had been a great waste of time.

“Do you know where she went?”

Rusty shrugged. “No. She didn’t tell us, and we didn’t ask. She
never talked much about herself before she came here. She was very quiet about
it. I always thought she looked sad, but she never talked about it. I’m really
sorry about the cage. We were just playing around, having some fun.”

He stuck out his hand. “Friends? No hard feelings? We would have
never killed you for
real
.”

“Yeah, like I believe you,” said Simon sarcastically and jumped at
the sight of Crusher leaning closer to him.

Zoey shook
Rusty’s
hand. “No hard feelings,
Rusty. It has been a very
educational
experience.”

Rusty squeezed Zoey’s hand. “When you find Elizabeth, tell her—tell
her we miss her.”

“I will,” she said, feeling sorry for him, “
if
I find her. I promise.”

From the folds on his coat, Rusty pulled out their DSM’s.

“Here,” he said as he handed the devices back to them. “I figure
you’ll need these to get back home.”

“Thank you.” Zoey took her DSM gladly, but her heart was heavy. She
had no real leads. How was she ever going to find her mother now?

After a moment, she looked down at Rusty. “Thanks for not killing
us.”

Rusty’s
eyes were bloodshot
and wet. “If ever you need anything,
anything
at all, just let us know—it’ll be a pleasure to see Elizabeth’s daughter again.
I feel like I’m looking at her when I look at you now. I can’t believe I didn’t
see it before. I’m sorry.”

Zoey smiled at the small man. “It’s fine, really. And thanks. I’ll
hold you to that promise. I have a feeling I might need it someday—maybe sooner
than later.”

“Zoey, we should go,” said Tristan as he popped his DSM open. Simon
shifted his weight anxiously, eyeing Zoey impatiently. He mouthed
come on
.

“Good-bye.”

With a final smile at the leprechauns, Zoey flipped open her DSM.
She angled her reflection properly, stood
very
still, and a second later her body flickered, transformed into a
semitransparent shadow, and she disappeared.

A
s soon as Zoey, Tristan, and
Simon reappeared back at the hive, Agent Vargas was waiting for them with
muscles bulging. He eyeballed them like an executioner. Zoey shrunk back at the
sight of him.

“YOU!” he bellowed. His red face contorted grotesquely, and Zoey
could almost see the fumes coming off his head. He could only speak in single
word sentences, as though he would run amok if he didn’t discipline his words.

“You! Follow! Me! Trouble!”

The three of them followed the agent wearily. Their lack of sleep
had kicked in, and Zoey had to concentrate to keep her lids from shutting. She
kept bumping into Tristan, who couldn’t keep up because he was supporting Simon
with one arm. Like a sergeant major, Agent Vargas marched down the hall and
held the academy door open for them. If he could have shot lasers from his
eyes, Zoey was sure they’d be burnt to a crisp.

Once they entered the classroom, she could see through the windows that
the sun was just coming up over the hill and trees to the east. She figured it
was about seven or eight in the morning. Classes hadn’t started yet. Thank God.
It would have been a million times more humiliating to be scolded in front of
the entire academy.

Zoey’s stomach did a somersault when she spotted Agent Barnes. He
was leaning on the far wall, behind the agent’s desk. His arms were crossed
over his chest, and he looked as livid as Agent Vargas. This time, she really
did think she was going to be sick.

“Sit!” ordered Agent Vargas, and Zoey jumped. A large vein pulsed on
his forehead, and his face looked as if it were about to explode. The three of
them sat silently and hung their heads. Zoey was certain everyone could hear her
heart thundering in her chest. She tried to swallow, but her throat was dry.
She didn’t dare look at Tristan or Simon—she kept her eyes low. What were they
going to do to them?

With his fingers curled into fists, Agent Vargas paced around the room.

“I don’t even know where to begin? This is so outrageous, such
unbelievable recklessness. I must be dreaming? How can my
own
operatives act so irresponsibly? How could you be so foolish—so
senseless? Did you not think how this would reflect on the hive? No! Of course
not! You were only thinking about yourselves!”

Zoey looked up and found her voice. “This is all my fault, Agent
Vargas—”

“SILENCE!” bellowed the agent. He was silent for a moment, as he tried
to control his anger.

“Imagine the state of panic your parents went through when they
discovered your empty beds? Their children—vanished—gone. They thought their
boys had been kidnapped!”

Zoey wasn’t sleepy anymore. The intensity of the situation sent adrenalin
soaring through her—or was that her overwhelming guilt? She was sure it was
going to get a lot worse any second now. She tried to get Agent Barnes’
attention, but he avoided her gaze as he watched Agent Vargas. She felt
isolated.

“They called the agency right away,” he continued, “and asked if we
knew anything about your disappearance.”

His eyes turned to Zoey. “I had my doubts, but when we searched
your
room and found you gone—then I knew
where the three of you had disappeared—where I
specifically
told no
not
to go—where even agents are not allowed! You disobeyed me! You turned your back
on the agency!” His voice rose and his face reddened even more.

He placed his hands on Zoey’s desk and looked down at her. Beads of
sweat trickled down his temples. “Am I to suppose that
you
were the instigator in this mess? I never had any problems with
Tristan or Simon until
you
came
along.”

Zoey’s bottom lip trembled, and tears swelled in her eyes.

“Yes. It’s all me. All of it.” And then she added quickly, “It’s not
their fault Agent Vargas. I forced them to come with me. They didn’t want to
come, but I blackmailed them.”

“You forced them and blackmailed them? Really, how so?”

“I told them if they didn’t come—we wouldn’t be friends anymore,”
she lied.

The words pained her as they left her lips. Tristan turned to look
at her and shook his head, mouthing the word
no
. But she ignored him.

“So you see—they’re innocent. I’m the one to blame. I did this, not
them. I’m the rule breaker. I only thought of myself.”

She took a deep breath. “I’ll accept any punishment you give me. I
won’t complain.”

Agent Vargas raised his eyebrows. “Oh you will, will you?”

“Yes,” said Zoey. “You can lock me up in a prison and starve me and
torture me—I deserve it.”

“Stop your nonsense,” said the agent.

His voice softened, and he seemed to relax a little. “We don’t
torture little girls—even if they disobey the rules and endanger the lives of their
fellows. What were you thinking? You could have been killed.”

“I needed to know if what Agent Scott had told me about my mother was
true,” she answered.

She inhaled shakily. “I had to find out. I couldn’t help myself.”

Zoey saw an opportunity and took it. “But we survived, and we found
out some really important stuff.”

“What stuff?” Agent Barnes walked towards them slowly, his arms
still crossed. “What stuff are you talking out, Zoey?”

Both Simon and Tristan nodded their approval as she spoke. She took
a deep breath and told the agents about the swamp
Grohemoths
,
the leprechaun gang, and more importantly about the imprisonment of the woman,
Elizabeth, and the role of the Alpha Nation.

Agent Vargas wasn’t buying it.

“First you tell us an absurd story about a strange deformed looking
woman who has the stolen interloper—and now this! Why are you making up these lies?
What purpose do they serve?”

Zoey shrank back in her seat. Her words wouldn’t come. She wanted so
desperately for them to believe her, but she knew it was a lost case.

Tristan raised his hand. “Wait a second, Agent Vargas, what Zoey is
saying is—” he began. Agent Vargas silenced him with brisk a wave of his hand.

“You are not permitted to speak, until spoken to, Tristan.” Agent
Vargas looked as if he was about to sprout horns.

“I vouched for you, Zoey,” said Agent Barnes suddenly. “What were
you thinking? How could you let me down like this?”

His words were like knives stabbing her in the heart. Her eyes
burned, and the room got hazy. She didn’t understand why she cared what Agent
Barnes thought of her. He wasn’t her real father. And it wasn’t as if she
hadn’t been scolded a million times by her foster parents—why was this any
different?

“But it’s the truth,” was all she was able to say without letting go
of the tears that threatened to flow down her cheeks. She looked at Agent
Barnes, but he was staring at the floor with a frown.

“Truth? Do you even know the meaning of the word?” Agent Vargas
started pacing again.

“I don’t know what to make of all of this. Understand this, Zoey, management
will be advised of your actions. We have a meeting about this shocking episode
this morning—and I doubt it will turn out in your favor.”

He pointed a large hand at Tristan and Simon who shrunk back in
their seats, looking guilty. “You two are to return home today to your families.
You’re both suspended for one day.”

And then he turned to Zoey. “And you, Zoey St. John, are suspended
indefinitely.”

    
Zoey stared out her bedroom
window longingly. She watched the other operatives on their lunch break as they
lounged on the vast hive grounds. They were laughing and eating like normal
kids, enjoying the last warm days of October. She saw Tristan and Simon
shooting their S9 slingshots at a line of plastic water bottles on a picnic
table. Tristan hit every bottle. Simon purposely stepped over the target line
when Tristan’s back was turned, then yelled out in delight at the fallen
bottles.

She ached to be with her friends, but it was impossible. She was on
lockdown in her room, a prisoner. She had been restricted to the Wander Inn for
four weeks now, and had been forbidden to have contact with any other operatives,
especially Tristan and Simon. Even her beloved golden boomerang had been confiscated.
That hurt.

Management’s final decision regarding her fate with the agency was
still unresolved. The waiting was excruciating. From what Agent Barnes had told
her the
one
time he had come to visit,
she understood that management was divided about whether she should be
reinstated or sent to live in a secret neighborhood with a Seventh’s family.

It seemed that no one believed her story. Management and the agents seemed
convinced that she had made it all up to gain attention. They claimed it wasn’t
her fault—that her behavior was the result of being an orphan and tossed from
foster home to foster home since she had been a baby.

While Zoey was reckless and headstrong, she wasn’t a liar. And she
was determined to prove it to them, if it was the last thing she ever did.

But for now all she could do was wait, and it was making her crazy. It
was a miracle that she had actually obeyed her instructions to stay inside the Wander
Inn and not broken out already. But there would come a time when she would, and
she knew it was going to be very soon.

She was still preoccupied with what had happened to Elizabeth, and
why she had been imprisoned in Troll City. If Elizabeth was truly her mother,
she needed to find her no matter what. She couldn’t just sit back and do
nothing. That wasn’t who
she
was.

With nothing to do but think for the four weeks she had been
imprisoned, she concluded that Elizabeth
must
have been an agent who had discovered something so important that she needed to
be silenced. That was the only thing that made sense—you didn’t imprison
ordinary people for no apparent reason. No, Elizabeth must have known something
dangerous—and they had locked her up to keep her from talking.

Zoey knew that orphanages kept records about every child who had
been in and out of their facilities going back for decades. The agency must keep
records about
all
their agents, too.
And she had a pretty good idea where they would be.

Zoey figured that the longer it took management to make a decision
about her case, the smaller were the odds that she would remain in the program.
It was pretty obvious she was going to get kicked out—so why not go out with a
bang
? Bangs are good.

Zoey sighed and rested her forehead on the window. Stuart walked
casually across the grounds with Claudia at his side—the way they were walking
so close to each other they almost looked like they were dating. She couldn’t
understand how anyone—even Claudia—could stand Stuart. There was something
different about him. He seemed to know things the others did not. It gave him
airs, and she hated him for it. What could he know?

She watched them as they joined another group of operatives at a
bench. Stuart’s lips moved, and they all started laughing. Then one by one they
looked up and stared at Zoey’s window. Even from a distance she could see the
evil smile on Stuart’s triumphant face. It was almost as though he already knew
her fate, and by the self-satisfied grin on his face it could only mean that
she was on her way out. He lifted his hand and waved.

Zoey closed the curtains and stepped away from the window. She
picked up a blueberry muffin, yelled in frustration, and hurled it into the
wall in an explosion of crumbs. It wasn’t very helpful, but she felt a little
release.

It wasn’t over yet. Zoey had a plan, and it started tonight.

At the stroke of midnight Zoey rolled out of bed in a T-shirt, hoody
sweater and sweat pants. She pulled on her sneakers and grabbed the flashlight
she had nicked from Aria’s kitchen at dinner. She tiptoed out the door and down
the stairs. As silent as a cat, she closed the front door behind her and crept
to the front entrance of the hive. She pulled open the door and looked around.
The main hallway was empty—her timing was perfect. She was not about to get
caught again. She pulled off her sneakers and hid them in a large plant pot
near the entrance door.

She sprinted towards the main stairway on the right, and after
sliding and slipping up the stairs, she reached the fourth floor. She held her
breath and peeked around the corner. The corridor was empty. She made her way
down the corridor and found a gray metal door with a sign at the top which read:
Supernatural Affairs, Room 4A.

This room was off limits, and she would definitely get kicked out of
the program for breaking in here. But finding the truth about Elizabeth was
more important to her. She didn’t care anymore. She
had
to do this.

If she was right about Elizabeth being an agent, then she might be
lucky enough to find out information about her
father,
too. Maybe he had also been an agent? But she didn’t want
to get her hopes up too high just yet. For now, she focused exclusively on her
mother—the rest would follow.

With her nerves fluttering in her belly, she wrapped her hand on the
handle and pushed in carefully. The room was dark, and she waited for her eyes
to adjust. She didn’t want to use the flashlight just yet and shoved it in her
front pocket. The room was as large as the entire main hall. Thick drapes hung
from tall windows at the opposite end. Shadows slowly took solid forms, and she
could make out a long rectangular table in the middle of the room, with chairs
around it and a large screen. There was a seating area with couches and chairs.
Pictures lined the walls, but it was too dark to make out what they were. She
crept inside. There were two other doors on the far right.

She opened the first door—a kitchenette and a small bathroom. The
other door revealed a small office. A computer sat on a wooden desk, waiting to
be hacked. But she wasn’t a hacker, and it would take forever to figure out the
password. She didn’t have the luxury of time. A large high-back upholstered
chair stood in the corner, and three large file cabinets backed against tall
bookshelves that wrapped the right side of the room.