The Candy Shop War, Vol. 2: Arcade Catastrophe (32 page)

“Almost certainly Mozag,” Ziggy added.

“Unless Jonas White is being sly,” Mr. Stott murmured. “Could he be using Pigeon’s tracker to lure you into a trap?”

“Possibly,” Victor said. “But this late in the game, I don’t think we can afford to ignore the signal.”

“How do you get the signal?” Trevor asked.

Mr. Stott held up a stocking cap and a pair of mittens. “By wearing these. Mozag enchanted them.”

“A single mitten is enough,” Ziggy explained, “but wearing everything clarifies the signal.”

“With one mitten, we can feel the direction of the various trackers,” Victor said. “With both mittens, we can feel the distance. Add the stocking cap, and we can almost see the location.”

“Did Pigeon break the button?” Trevor wondered.

“I’m not sure,” Victor said. “The signal didn’t last long. The mittens vibrate a lot if the button gets broken. That didn’t happen, but interference from the magical barriers around Arcadeland could have blocked the effect.”

“What’s the plan?” Trevor asked. “Are you going in?”

“The Battiatos came straight here after pinpointing the signal,” Mr. Stott said. “Victor intends to go after Pigeon. Ziggy will rest here in his depleted state. But you might be able to accompany Victor.”

“Really?” Trevor asked.

“Let me see the back of your hand,” Mr. Stott said. Trevor extended his arm, and Mr. Stott took a close look at the stamp, probing the ink with his fingertips. “It’s as I suspected. The stamp recently became inactive. When were you last stamped?”

Trevor considered the question. “About three days ago. Does this mean I can use candy?”

Mr. Stott produced a small box. “Bestial Biscuits,” he said. “My latest invention. A blending of Brain Feed, Mrs. White’s notes on Creature Crackers, and my general interest in shape-shifting.”

“What do they do?” Trevor asked.

Mr. Stott shook a biscuit from the box. “I’ve wanted to attempt something like this for years. Mrs. White’s notes together with this emergency provided me with the means and the motivation. Ideally, I’d like to produce a broader variety at some point. For now, six variations will have to suffice.”

“Same question,” Trevor said. Sometimes Mr. Stott could get a little long-winded.

Mr. Stott held out the biscuit to Trevor. “What does this look like?”

“A bear,” Trevor said.

“Correct,” Mr. Stott replied. “If you eat it, you will transform into a Kodiak bear, the largest of the brown bears.”

“Awesome,” Trevor approved.

Mr. Stott placed the bear cracker back inside the box. “Your bond to the simulacrum Jonas White produced corresponds directly to your physical form. While you remain in an altered shape, your simulacrum should prove useless. The transformation will only last for about half an hour. When you revert to your actual shape, you will become vulnerable again.”

“What other animals do you have?” Trevor asked.

“I’ve cooked up a mountain gorilla, a golden eagle, a great white shark, a Siberian tiger, a gray wolf, and the Kodiak bear. I made two of each. The effort stretched me to my limits. I want to retain one set for whoever loses the next competition.”

“So I get to go with Victor?” Trevor verified.

“It won’t be a picnic,” Victor warned.

“I bet,” Trevor said. “You guys don’t usually go after magicians in their lairs.”

“Not ideally,” Victor said. “However, this lair is more vulnerable than some. By taking prisoners and holding them in his lair, Jonas White has reduced his claim on the space, weakening his entitlement to protective magic. The more prisoners he holds, the more fragile his barriers become. Parts of Arcadeland are open to the public, which further weakens the lair. Plus, a Simulcrist needs to leave certain barriers down in order for his simulacra to stay connected with their targets.”

“Still, Jonas White is an old magician with plenty of skill,” Ziggy said. “He has help from several engineered apprentices, and we can count on him to have a number of other tricks up his sleeve.”

“That means Victor will need help,” Trevor said. “I’m coming. I have to help my friends.”

“They could use all the help they can get,” Ziggy said. “We haven’t confronted a threat like Jonas White in quite some time. The world is in big trouble.”

“Your clothes will be absorbed into the animal you become,” Mr. Stott explained. “Small items on your person as well. After you spend half an hour as a tiger, for example, you’ll revert to your true form, fully dressed with all of your gear.”

“Definitely beats having to streak across town looking for clothes,” Trevor said gratefully. “So I can keep extra crackers with me, and eat another as soon as I become human again?”

“That is exactly what I would suggest,” Mr. Stott approved. “The longer you spend in your human form, the more opportunity you’ll give Jonas to attack you with your simulacrum. Keep the Bestial Biscuits handy.”

“Are we ready to go?” Trevor asked.

“I believe so,” Mr. Stott said, looking to Victor.

Ziggy began to age, shrink, and droop. Victor swelled with new muscle, gaining several inches of stature. His face became more youthful and chiseled. His suit coat looked ready to burst. He rolled his head on his thick neck, producing snaps and pops.

“I’m ready now,” Victor said.

Ziggy sagged into a chair, wiping sweat from his brow.

“You all right?” Victor asked.

Ziggy nodded sluggishly. “I figured you could use all that I could spare. I’ll be fine. You’re the one heading into the thick of it.”

“You’ll probably want to start as an animal that can ride in a car,” Mr. Stott advised Trevor. “Victor can have a second biscuit ready for when you storm Arcadeland.”

“Will I still feel like myself?” Trevor asked.

“Losing yourself in your new form is an inherent risk of shape-shifting,” Mr. Stott said. “I’ve taken some measures to limit the risks. I modified the animals so that their senses will feel closer to what you’re used to experiencing. The minds of the animals will react as if under the influence of Brain Feed, which should allow your mental processes to remain unclouded. The limited time you’ll spend as each creature will also help you retain your self-possession.”

“Okay, let’s do it,” Trevor said. “I guess I’ll start as a wolf.”

Mr. Stott rummaged in the box. “Let me find the right biscuit.”

“Why call them biscuits?” Trevor wondered.

“Here in America, biscuits are fluffy,” Mr. Stott said. “In Britain, biscuits are like cookies or crackers.”

“Are you British?”

“Not particularly.” He held out a cracker to Trevor. “I guess I liked the alliteration—Bestial Biscuits.”

Trevor accepted the biscuit. “You want to give Victor the box?”

“I’ll give you the box,” Mr. Stott said. “It should disappear along with your clothes and remain with you. But let’s give Victor the biscuit you want to use inside Arcadeland. Eat it the moment you change out of your wolf form.”

“What should I use?” Trevor asked Victor.

“I’m no animal expert,” Victor said. “Gorilla, bear, or tiger all sound good.”

“I guess bear,” Trevor said. “It seems big and heavy and strong. A tiger seems better outside. A bear could bulldoze through those halls. Hopefully I’ll be able to help you knock down doors and intimidate the bad guys.”

“I like it,” Victor said, accepting the bear cracker from Mr. Stott. “Let’s get rolling.”

Trevor put the wolf biscuit in his mouth. It tasted like cinnamon shortbread, but it was a little too chalky for him to call it delicious. When he swallowed, his entire body burned and tingled. His arms and legs shortened as he fell forward. His nose and mouth elongated into a muzzle, his ears shifted higher up his head, a tail sprouted from his rear, and fur emerged all over his body.

By the time his front paws hit the ground, the rapid transformation felt complete. Trevor could feel new strength in his jaws. His eyesight seemed pretty much unchanged. He sensed a new spectrum of aromas rising from the carpet, as well as distinct odors coming from Mr. Stott and the Battiatos. Faint sounds that he hadn’t noticed before came to him clearly, like the news on the TV in the family room. Trevor stretched his back and lifted his paws. The new form felt surprisingly natural.

“Quick change,” Ziggy said.

“How do you feel?” Mr. Stott asked.

“Great,” Trevor said. “My hearing is sharper. I’m picking up new smells. I want to run.”

“I wouldn’t mind being in motion myself,” Victor said. “Follow me.”

Victor led the way out of the room, down from the apartment, and out the back of the candy shop. The pungent aromas coming from the display cases of sweets were almost too much for Trevor, but he liked how smoothly he could move on all fours.

Trevor paused after exiting the candy shop. What if Mr. Stott was wrong? What if Jonas White managed to attack Trevor with his simulacrum while he was in wolf form? Trevor supposed it was possible, but he had to take the risk.

Victor opened the passenger door to the van, and Trevor hopped inside, reflecting that without fingers it would have been almost impossible for him to work the handle. Victor came around and slid in behind the wheel, moving the seat back a little to accommodate his larger physique.

“Do we have a strategy?” Trevor asked.

“I considered ramming the van through the front doors,” Victor replied. “I decided that might be a little dramatic, plus we could needlessly injure ourselves. It’s nearly eleven. Arcadeland will be closed. We’ll go in on foot, probably through a side door. I’m not sure how we’ll access the basement. We’ll have to improvise. Plan to storm in and play rough.”

This late there was only modest traffic on the roads. With every moment that passed, Trevor gained confidence that Jonas couldn’t harm him. He felt eager to be in motion and squirmed restively as they made their way to the arcade. At length, Victor eased to a stop a block from Arcadeland.

“Now we wait?” Trevor asked.

“We get out of the van,” Victor said, opening his door. “Then we wait for you to return to normal and instantly make you a bear.”

Victor closed his door and walked around the van. He opened Trevor’s door and let him jump down. They walked to a quiet alleyway.

Trevor could smell a discarded ketchup packet, old gum, and dozens of subtler scents. He followed Victor into the dark alley, aware of how the pads on his feet felt against the asphalt.

“How much longer?” Trevor asked.

Victor checked his watch. “If it lasts half an hour, we need to wait at least ten more minutes.”

“If I eat the bear biscuit now I guess we risk mixing magic,” Trevor said.

“Right. We have to hold off. No telling what would happen otherwise.”

“And I guess we shouldn’t get much closer,” Trevor said.

“Smarter to wait,” Victor said. “I could scout ahead and open the door, but I might get discovered and ruin our surprise. We’ll go together, a guy and his bear.”

The conversation died. Victor seemed content to stand with his hands in his pockets. Trevor paced back and forth, sniffing at the more interesting scents.

When Trevor finally transformed, there was little warning. His body became hot and tingly—then he was on his hands and knees, fully clothed, the box of animal crackers in his hand.

Victor was immediately at his side, the bear biscuit in hand. Trevor chomped it down, hoping Jonas White wouldn’t sense his availability in time to work any magical mischief.

Again heat rushed through him as his body fleshed out and expanded. His muscles ballooned, covered by layers of fat and shaggy fur. Rising up on his hind legs, Trevor looked down at Victor, surprised to stand so much taller than the burly investigator.

“That’s more like it,” Victor said. “Feeling good?”

Trevor dropped down to all fours. “I feel big.” He padded forward, heavy muscles bulging across his back. His hearing had lost some of its edge, but if anything his sense of smell was keener. “Jonas White better watch out.”

“Don’t get too cocky,” Victor said, walking beside him. “The guy is a magician. We’ll keep things quiet for as long as we can. When they come after us, don’t be shy about letting them have it. Tonight we’re playing for keeps. We have to find Mozag and get him out.”

“What about John?” Trevor asked. “What about Pigeon?”

“On our priority list, they rank a distant second,” Victor said. “I mean them no disrespect, but Pigeon and John probably can’t stop Jonas White. Mozag probably can. We need him to fix this mess and save the others.”

“Okay,” Trevor agreed. “But if we can save all three?”

“We save all three. Don’t get me wrong. John and Pigeon could help us fight our way out. I value them. I’d love to spring them as well. But we need to go in with our priorities straight. Once this gets started, I expect things will move quickly. We won’t have lots of time to ponder our options.”

“Got it,” Trevor said.

“This way,” Victor said, speeding up to a run.

Trevor increased his pace. He was not as light on his feet as before, but he could still move rapidly. He expected that at full speed he could easily outrace Victor.

They slowed as they reached Arcadeland. Producing a couple of tools, Victor went to work on a nondescript door. Trevor could hardly believe how quickly he opened it.

“Did you used to be a burglar?” Pigeon asked.

Victor shrugged. “You work as an investigator for almost a hundred years, you pick up a trick or two. Get in there.”

Trevor squeezed through the doorway, brushing the frame on both sides. The main lights were off, leaving the flickering displays of various games to illuminate the room. Trevor smelled no people, but some delicious fragrances beckoned him toward the snack bar.

“Stay with me,” Victor said, trotting past Trevor toward an EMPLOYEES ONLY door across the arcade. Upon arrival, Victor found the door locked, but he again used his tools to remedy the problem.

With the door open, they could hear an alarm blaring. “What did we do?”

“We’re both magically altered,” Victor said. “We probably tripped a warning system as soon as we entered. I bet Jonas didn’t want that kind of alarm heard in the public areas.”