Harley Merlin 19: Persie Merlin and the Door to Nowhere Read online

  I glanced at my friend. “I just want the blame to fall on the right culprit, that’s all. And I want to try and get Xanthippe back with the pixies’ help, to show that they’re not a threat… and neither am I.”

  “Aye, aye, captain.” She pretended to salute, seemingly satisfied. Weirdly, it used to be me who went along with her madcap schemes. Now the tables had turned, and she was once again demonstrating why she was my best friend.

  Ringleader or accomplice, here she stood, at my side, ready for anything.

  The halls lay eerily empty on our speed-walk to the engineering lab, our footsteps echoing loudly, as if a gang of people were following us. I had to look back a few times, just to make sure we were alone. I listened to the percussion of our footsteps until we reached Naomi’s gadget sanctuary.

  “Ms. Hiraku, are you in here?” The lab appeared to be as unoccupied as the rest of the Institute, the room miraculously cleared of any evidence that there had ever been a class.

  Without the clutter, I saw more of the lab as a whole. Shelves filled with gleaming metal devices, and jars with vividly colored powders and liquids inside. At the back of the room was a diorama of sorts, showing the evolution of the Repository orbs. I imagined, since they used a lot of Atlantean technology, that the Institute’s engineers had melded the old glass-box tech with new knowledge to make the orbs they had today. Away to one side, I spotted one of Naomi’s Omnispheres in a state of mechanical undress, connected to a beeping machine with red and green wires.

  An abrupt bump, followed by a sharp “ow,” cut through the silence. Naomi popped up from beneath her workbench like a cartoon gopher, rubbing her head. “Girls. Didn’t you hear Ms. Jules? Classes are canceled until further notice.” She winced, trying to squint up at her head injury. “Honestly, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do with myself. I know, I know, teachers are meant to daydream about snow days and vacation days, but I like to be busy! I don’t like things quiet.”

  I leaned against one of the workbenches. “We know, we just came by to talk about something.”

  “You did?!” She looked incredibly relieved.

  Genie chuckled as she came to stand beside me. “What were you doing down there?”

  “Cleaning. I thought I’d make a start. It’s spring, after all.” She scurried off to an old tin kettle, which she, rather alarmingly, put on top of a tripod and lit a Bunsen burner underneath. Even in tea-making, she was a scientist to the core. Then she set about preparing three mugs and three elegant, painted ceramic strainers for the tea leaves. I wasn’t much of a tea drinker myself, but I wasn’t about to turn it down, under the circumstances. “Now, what can I do for you lovely ladies?”

  Genie and I exchanged a conspiratorial glance before I answered. “Could you show us how the puzzle boxes work, again?”

  “Absolutely!” She checked her vintage wristwatch—a rose gold face with a blush leather strap. “In exactly… thirty-eight seconds. Oh, and make sure you let the leaves steep, or it’ll taste like trash.” She stood, timing it to the last moment.

  What I guessed to be thirty-eight seconds later, the kettle started squealing. Watching Naomi had the same effect as watching an elaborate ballet. In one fluid motion, she plucked up the kettle, poured the water into each teacup, set the kettle down, and lifted the cups on a tray. Balancing them perfectly on one hand, she scooped up a puzzle box with the other and made her way to our workbench.

  “I don’t suppose this technically counts as a class, with just the two of you.” Naomi spread the cups equidistant from each other. She was probably one of those gifted people who could draw a perfect circle freehand. “It’s more like a tutorial, in a way. Ah… I remember those from my days at Cambridge. Best years of my life.” She stared wistfully into the distance.

  Genie propped her chin on her hands, gazing at Naomi with newfound admiration. “You went to Cambridge?”

  “Both of them, yes.” Naomi scooted around to the other side of the workbench while Genie and I sat down.

  I tilted my head. “Huh?”

  “The magical one and the non-magical one, but I loved them equally. Punting down the River Cam, cycling through the town on a summer’s day. Wonderful times.” Naomi shook her head like a wet dog. “But you haven’t come here to hear me reminisce. Though you can, if you like? I’ll have a lot of time on my hands—too much time, until Victoria asks me to join the search. Where was I? I guess you could say my train of thought left the station.”

  “Puzzle boxes,” I prompted.

  “Yes, these magnificent beauties!” Naomi picked up a sea-green box, with the silvered patterns. “Simple enough once you know how, as with most things. First, make sure all the designs are aligned. Then, when you’ve managed to immobilize a monster, you press the harp button and throw this luscious bit of ingenuity at it. It’ll get sucked right in, and the lid snaps shut. After that, it’s a case of twisting the box so the designs get all muddled, and you have it locked in and ready for transport.”

  Genie nodded along. “And how do you get the creature into a Bestiary box or a Repository bubble?”

  “That’s the easiest part. Twist everything back so the designs align again, press the harp button and, presto, you’ve made a deposit at the Bank of the Bestiary.”

  Naomi showed us, turning the narrow slats of the box backward and forward. She pressed the harp button and the lid slid back, revealing a blood-red interior. Fragments of gemstone and glowing hexes shone, neatly arranged on the inner walls like a circuitry board. For such a small box, it was overflowing with magical technology. It certainly put the plain Mason jars to shame, though I liked the familiarity of those.

  “Can I try?” Genie asked eagerly.

  “Of course you can.” Naomi pushed the box toward her and turned her attention to her cup of tea. I watched her take out the strainer and set it delicately on the workbench. She lifted the cup to her nose ceremoniously and inhaled, her eyes closing contentedly. Only then did she take a sip. I wondered if a whiff of the stuff would relax me for what I had to do next.

  Instead, I took a deep breath. “Could we get a crate of those boxes, to help with the pixie hunt?”

  Naomi stilled mid-sip. “Has this request been sanctioned by Victoria?”

  I stared down into the lurid green liquid of my cup, thinking for a moment. I considered lying, but I didn’t want to get Naomi in trouble.

  “No.” I sighed, choosing the righteous path.

  “Persie, I’m sorry, but I can’t hand over any puzzle boxes without Victoria’s permission.” Naomi sounded apologetic. I’d already known the answer when the truth had tripped off my tongue. Nobody defied Victoria lightly, if at all.

  Genie set down the puzzle box. “Shouldn’t, not can’t. What if we were to tell you that we had a really good reason for wanting them?”

  “I would listen, but that doesn’t mean my answer would change.” Naomi smiled, her eyes glittering with curiosity.

  “How about this: These are Persie’s creations that are on the loose, and she wants to tidy up the mess she made.” Genie cast me an apologetic glance. “You’re all about showing and not telling at this Institute, so how is Persie supposed to learn if she’s not allowed to fix the situation herself? It’d be like one of your Omnispheres glitching during an experiment, and someone telling you that you can’t make tweaks so it doesn’t glitch next time.”

  Naomi swirled her tea. “Interesting.”

  “Plus, she knows these creatures better than anyone.” Genie dove back in. “Victoria’s worried about them snatching other students, but that won’t happen to Persie. She made them, so they respect her. If anyone can catch them, it’s her. But she needs puzzle boxes to do it.”

  Naomi looked back at her private project, the exposed inner workings of her Omnisphere on display. I saw the cogs whirring behind her eyes, as intricate and sensitive as her self-made device.

  “I created them, Ms. Hiraku,” I said softly. “All I’m asking for is an opportuni
ty. They’re my Omnispheres, and I want to make sure they don’t hurt anyone. Please think about it before you decide. Who are they more likely to listen to—hunters they’re afraid of, or the woman who brought them back from extinction?”

  Naomi took a lengthy sip of her tea, leaving Genie and me on tenterhooks. “You make an excellent argument, but…”

  My heart sank. It was going to be another no, and I really didn’t want to have to steal the boxes. Nor did I want to rely on the handful of Mason jars I had in my backpack. They wouldn’t be close to enough, but with a decent number of puzzle boxes and the jars—then we’d be in business.

  “But?” Genie urged.

  Naomi sighed. “I can offer you five boxes. That’s all I can spare.”

  “Seriously?!” I yelped with excitement.

  “Yes, but I have provisos.” She waggled a stern finger at us. “They are to be brought back as soon as you’re done with them, and all captured pixies are to go to the Repository every single time. No keeping them as pet projects, tempting as that might sound. The Institute is already on edge about this fiasco, and they will be until Xanthippe is returned. Don’t make me regret this, do you understand?”

  I grinned at Genie. “We won’t let you down, Ms. Hiraku. Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

  “Why do I already feel like I’m making a huge mistake?” Naomi griped, but she didn’t rescind her offer, and that was all that mattered. After a relentless day and night, things were finally starting to go my way.

  Fourteen

  Persie

  Puzzle boxes and Mason jars safely stowed in my backpack, Genie and I set off on our two-woman mission through the Institute. Keeping things nonchalant, of course, so as not to attract any unwanted attention. We paused beside display cases and pretended to read the notes, all the while eyeing our surroundings for any whisper of a pixie. Black-suited hunters swarmed the main corridors and common areas, encouraging us to stick to the paths less traveled. The pixies wouldn’t be foolish enough to come out where their would-be captors were congregating, which made me wonder why they were being so obvious. Perhaps the hunters had some sort of flushing operation to siphon the creatures into one spot.

  Anyway, their plan of action didn’t concern me too much. We just had to stay out of their way and keep our heads down. Not literally, though, or we wouldn’t be able to scan for the mischief-makers.

  “Anything?” Genie whispered, as we walked down a narrow corridor that housed a bunch of study doors. They had bronze plaques outside, bearing names I didn’t recognize: Scheherazade Rouhani, Advanced Tactical Practice; Damian Greatorex, Covert Operations; Kofi Smithson, External Affairs. I guessed they weren’t people we needed to know in our first year. There were so many people in this place, from students to teachers to graduated hunters to visiting hunters to general administration, that I doubted anyone knew everyone’s name.

  I shook my head. “Not even a wing flutter.”

  “They can’t, like, go invisible, can they?” Genie stopped for a swig of water.

  I shrugged reluctantly. “I don’t think so.”

  “I love you dearly, Pers, but why did you have to Purge something that’s been extinct for ages? Couldn’t you have gone for a critter that at least has a crystal-clear entry in monster history?” She pretended to flip open a book and run a finger down the imaginary page. “Bullet-point one: this creature can’t disappear at will. Bullet-point two: leave out a cookie and it’ll come running. That’d be sweet right now.”

  “I don’t get a lot of choice in what I Purge.” I took the water flask she offered and gulped down a mouthful. This secret-agent stuff made a girl sweat. No wonder my mom always came back from her missions looking disheveled. “Hey, maybe when I get better at this Purging stuff, I’ll be able to decide what I create.”

  Genie laughed. “Promise you’ll make them small and singular?”

  I crossed my heart.

  “Come on.” Genie made to continue up the corridor. “Let’s check the orchard, see if we can notice any signs of a pixie shindig.”

  Twenty minutes later, we had fresh air on our faces. It made for a nice change from being stuck indoors. There didn’t appear to be any black-suits out here, either. It gave me hope that we were on the right track.

  “I should’ve worn an extra sweater,” Genie grumbled as we ambled through the trees. The spitting rain pattered at the leaves, and misty rays of dulled sunlight sliced through the canopy, dappling the ground below. The weather might’ve been grim, but the rain and soft light soothed my raw nerves. The earth was covered in a mass of foliage in various stages of decay: fresh green leaves on top of their dry, russet-toned forefathers, with the browned mulch of older dead carpeting the ground beneath. Tufts of grass pushed through, creating a pretty patchwork of color.

  Admiring the scenery, I almost forgot why we were really there. In fact, I was so engrossed in the shade and light that I didn’t see the figure stalking toward us until she was beside us.

  “Shouldn’t you be in your rooms, staying out of the way?” Charlotte shoved her hands aggressively into the pockets of her jacket. Her hazel eyes fixed me with a stony glare. “Hunters are sweeping the place, and I don’t want anyone holding them up.”

  I rubbed my arms to chase out the cold. “There weren’t any hunters out here, so we figured it’d be okay.” I understood her frostiness more than she knew. If Genie were missing, I’d be hostile to anyone who I thought was remotely responsible.

  “Well, it’s not okay.” Her voice hitched for a split second, exposing some serious subtext. She was torn up about this, and who wouldn’t be? She wanted her friend back, even if her friend did happen to be a bigoted snob. After all, friends were the family we chose for ourselves. Maybe Charlotte saw something in Xanthippe that we didn’t.

  Genie looped her arm through mine. “Do you want us to go back inside?”

  “I can’t make you.” Charlotte scuffed her boot through the dead leaves. “I’m just saying, don’t get underfoot. There’s important work going on.”

  “We know,” I said softly.

  Charlotte’s head snapped up. “The Institute has never had anything like this happen before. My mom is so proud of that, and so was I. But the two of you are here for a week and all hell breaks loose.” She hissed a breath through her teeth, visibly trying to calm down. “Do you have any idea what kind of damage this could do to my family name, if it ever got out? We’re just lucky it’s Victoria in charge, and not some sap who cracks under pressure. Meanwhile, my friend is…” She trailed off, dragging in unstable breaths.

  “I’m sorry. I understand that you’re hurting.” I tried to offer an olive branch, but I’d never been one for good timing. She didn’t want sympathetic words from me right now. She wanted someone to blame.

  Her eyes narrowed. “I just want to ask one thing, and I want an honest answer because I’m on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Did your monsters do this? And don’t pretend they’re not yours; the math isn’t hard.” Bitterness dripped from her words.

  “Why don’t we take the animosity down a notch, huh?” Genie cut in, pulling on my arm so I ended up a half step behind her.

  I smiled at my friend. “It’s fine, Genie. It’s a valid question.” I held my ground and answered Charlotte. “Not that I know of. They’re not cruel or malevolent by nature, so it doesn’t seem like something they’d do.”

  “What, are you also best buddies with the things you Purge?” Charlotte chewed her bottom lip.

  “No, but I read up on them.”

  She snorted. “Is that what you’re carrying around in that massive backpack? Books on all the creatures you’ve spat into this world?” Her eyes flitted upward, like she was trying to blink away tears. She was the model hunter with a perfect record and a famous mom—she carried a lot on her shoulders. And, hey, at least she could actually match up to her mom’s legacy. That couldn’t be said for everyone. But it was sort of humanizing to see that exterior slough away, l
eaving behind a sad girl who just wanted her friend back. It certainly made it easier to ignore the insults.

  “What did you say to her?” Genie straightened, shoulders squared. I nudged her gently to get her to back down, but it was like trying to wrangle a bull who’d seen red.

  “Oh, come on, you can’t say you admire that messed-up ability?” Charlotte refused to look at me. “It’s unnatural.”

  You’re not wrong there… I doubted she’d believe my sincerity if I agreed, though.

  Genie laughed coldly. “Isn’t that what your friend thinks of me?”

  “I didn’t tell them to gang up on you!” Charlotte’s eyes widened, a flicker of guilt crossing her face. “I had nothing to do with the other night. I stood up for you!”

  “Yeah, to save face,” Genie shot back. “But that doesn’t mean I think your friend should’ve been taken. We’re not out here to cause problems. I hope your friend gets found, because I’d be out of my mind, too, if anything like that happened to Persie.”

  Charlotte gaped like a beached fish, and I breathed a subtle sigh of relief. I didn’t want a repeat of last night. Impulsively, I made a bold move. “Believe it or not, we’re trying to help. That’s why we’re out here.” I pulled one of the puzzle boxes out of my bag and showed it to her. “We’re looking for the pixies so we can catch them. Same as everyone in there.”

  Charlotte eyed the box. “Where did you get that from? Did you steal it from Naomi’s storage?”

  “No, of course we didn’t.” Genie rolled her eyes. “You’re not listening, are you? We. Are. Trying. To. Help!”

  “You expect me to believe—”

  Just then, the intercom system screeched to life, cutting her off. A deafening siren blared three times before a familiar voice crackled through the speakers: Victoria’s voice.

  “This is your head huntswoman speaking. Another magical has been reported missing. As of this moment, the Institute is now on high alert,” she boomed. “Everyone, return to your rooms immediately and remain there until further notice. The Institute is now officially in lockdown.” Three more piercing sirens sounded, ending the transmission.