The Magic Castle
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“You look like you were hit by a bus.” Jack stood behind me as I stared down at myself in the hotel bathroom mirror. “Not literally,” he added quickly, and I heard it clearly enough from my back.
I glanced up. He was staring intently at my face. His eyes were narrowed so hard that they might have been carved of stone themselves; his mouth had dropped open slightly, and he was looking at me like I was some kind of alien creature.
It occurred to me for the first time ever that he might not actually know that my hair is blue or why. That realization made me smile, despite how bad I felt. My hand came up automatically as I saw a few drops of blood on the front of my shirt, but it wasn’t too bad. At least not compared to what I’d seen in other places.
The rest of my body was covered by the towel I was using as a bandage, which was stained crimson across most of its surface. There didn’t seem to be any way around having to change now that Jack had found out about my secret.
He watched me curiously, still silent, while I looked away briefly as I wiped my bloody fingers off one corner of the sink. When I turned back toward him again, though, he seemed to understand my reluctance to talk about it and just nodded instead. “What do we need to take care of?”
The thought had been lingering in my head for a minute or two. After the events at the museum this morning, there didn’t seem to be much point in wasting time here. We could probably spend another couple of hours doing research, but there would only be an extra hour or two left over before we needed to get to the airport if we went back down into the basement and took our time.
I wanted to make the most of that time, and that meant getting back in the game. But I also knew that we weren’t going to be able to keep playing forever without coming up against more problems that couldn’t be solved by magic. If we really did have a chance, it was important to figure out where those chances lay.
Jack’s eyes flicked up from the bedside table and he caught sight of my bandaged hand for the first time. “Let me see that.” Without waiting for permission, he reached forward and carefully pulled my sleeve back so that he could examine the wound properly. For a brief moment, he looked concerned; then, as his gaze passed slowly over the blood-soaked fabric, his expression relaxed again.
“Well, it looks like you’ll be fine.” He frowned as he considered it. “If you don’t want to tell me exactly what happened, maybe I can help you figure out what’s wrong next time? This isn’t anything complicated—”
“That’s all right.” I interrupted gently. I was grateful for his attention, and I appreciated the offer, but I wasn’t sure it was necessary. Besides, if the truth about what I’d done had any bearing on what we faced now, the information would already be out there somewhere. “I’ve been wondering that same thing.”
We were both silent for a second or two until I spoke again, trying to make the question sound casual. “So … where are we heading?”
It was a pretty obvious lead. The answer should have been easy to guess, considering that I’d just told Jack where we needed to go. But even after I’d spoken the words, the implications hadn’t fully registered. Then, suddenly, a rush of adrenaline shot through me: My mind went blank and my heart started pounding. “Oh,” I said. I forced myself to breathe in a slow pattern, to keep from panicking as I looked up into Jack’s eyes.
A beat of silence stretched between us as we waited for each other to say something. It didn’t feel good or comfortable, but it was familiar; the tension was like walking into a room and expecting to find someone waiting there who shouldn’t be. “I think you know what happens when we leave here.”
His voice was quiet and gentle as he replied, “Yeah. I’m sorry. No, wait.” He held up his hands in surrender and smiled nervously. “Don’t apologize. Don’t worry, either. We’re going home tonight.”
My relief was so intense that tears rose to my eyes. A small part of me had been afraid that we wouldn’t be going anywhere anymore. Another wave of gratitude washed over me. I was glad to hear him say that because he was right. I could sense the reality behind his statement.
There wasn’t any choice involved. Whatever he intended, whatever we planned, we would leave this place tomorrow night and we would never come back again. That was the nature of his power. He could have sent us back to New York in a heartbeat, or to wherever the hell he wanted to send us.
And I didn’t doubt for a second that he could have kept us here if he had wanted to. But that wasn’t how he used it, so that meant that he expected us to go home with him somehow.
It made no difference why he wanted it. Whether it was for his own amusement or some kind of test, or a simple desire to see whether we could do what he’d set us out to do, I was still committed to meeting his challenge. But as I watched his face, a cold chill washed over me.
He might be willing to sacrifice me for a reason like that—and there was nothing I could do about it.
***
As Jack had promised, we flew home late the next day. We were in the middle of a storm system, with heavy winds and a steady drizzle. The visibility was poor, so the plane came down well ahead of schedule; they were worried about losing control of the landing.
When we emerged from the terminal to walk across the tarmac, the temperature was dropping rapidly, and rain lashed the pavement like hailstones.
The pilot had left our bags at the bottom of the stairs. As we climbed them, he shouted, “Welcome home!” I couldn’t understand much of what he was saying through the wind and rain, but his words sounded cheerful enough.
The airport itself felt more cheerful than it had before we boarded, but I couldn’t put my finger on any one factor. Everything just seemed better, lighter somehow, as though the pressure inside was lessened, the weight of whatever was coming had lightened. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.
At least we knew we weren’t being followed. After we landed, I’d asked Jack to check and he’d come back immediately shaking his head. There were only three people he’d seen since we’d left New York, and none of them had looked closely at us once. They might not care that we’d been gone, but I was still relieved. It was too bad that it didn’t mean anything.
There were four cars waiting for us outside the building. Three were black and shiny; one of those was a stretch limousine. Jack went up the steps first, leaving me behind as I tried to work out what exactly I thought I knew was happening.
“What’s wrong? Don’t tell me you’re tired.” He turned around quickly, but his smile was genuine. “Come on, get in.”
He’d been so eager to help, and so friendly with me since we got back. If I had been suspicious, it was hard to know which emotion was stronger: the fear of discovery or the excitement of having someone else look out for me. At the moment, I found myself wanting both things all at once.
We piled into the limo together, and a few seconds later it pulled smoothly away from the curb. From where I was sitting, I could barely see outside the windows; everything was wet and smudgy, and we were moving fast enough that I couldn’t really make out the details.
But then Jack leaned forward and grabbed a hold of the seat in front of him, and I saw that we were passing through the city streets at high speed, racing toward another building. Then he let go and said, “That should do it,” and the limo slowed to a stop in front of a tall, sleek modern structure, lit by floodlights.
I looked at the building curiously and asked, “Where are we?”
Jack grinned and pointed out the window. “You’ll see when we get out. Come on.”
With that, he opened the door, jumped down onto the pavement, and waited until I joined him. We stepped out of the car in time for the door to close behind us and an electronic chime to sound, telling us that we’d now entered a guarded facility. There were two men on duty there, and they came running as soon as we appeared at the top of the stairs.
The lobby was huge, but I wasn’t able to see very far past the security guards stationed at the entrance, who wouldn’t give us any more than an awkward nod of acknowledgment. I couldn’t imagine what would have brought Jack here—and even if I had, I doubted he would be willing to share information on this site. My mind kept wandering to his earlier warning: I don’t want to get you involved. It seemed obvious enough that he meant me personally; I was beginning to feel the full extent of the unbelievable situation.
After we passed through the security area, Jack led us into an elevator, pressed a button for a level below ours, and held the doors open so that we could jump inside. The lights dimmed and we rose swiftly to the second floor, where a corridor stretched before us and several other elevators stood waiting.
We got into one, rode it down, then climbed out again and walked along another hallway. This one had glass walls, looking out over some kind of vast space, lit by a multitude of floodlights.
I stared out the window as we walked by, trying to find out what the place was. In fact, I wasn’t certain that I actually did know; it might just be something that I’d seen in a movie. There were no signs identifying the building’s purpose, nothing beyond its sheer size to give it any meaning.
When we reached the end of this hall, Jack pushed open a set of double doors, leading us into yet another spacious lobby, this one lined with tables and chairs, while ahead of us a bank of windows stretched off into the distance. On my right, I noticed rows of lockers that reminded me of the storage facilities we used for our supplies.
And in the middle of the room was a large stage with a long podium, standing alone in the middle of the floor. People were already milling around, including a couple of familiar faces who called out to Jack from across the room: “Hey, Jack!”
It took me a second to realize that the people were talking about him. They hadn’t recognized me; I’d managed to keep myself concealed well enough. A young man with curly blond hair rushed toward us with a big grin. “Jack! You made it!”
“Yeah, yeah.” He waved off his friend’s enthusiasm. “This is Chloe, I hope you remember her.”
Chloe smiled warmly. “Of course. It’s nice to meet you, finally. I heard lots of great things.” She gave him an appreciative smile. “Sorry that you’ve had to drag me all the way here.”
His cheeks colored. “Don’t worry about it. It was your choice.”
She laughed and shook her head. “No, it’s fine, really. I’d rather be here than anywhere else.” Her voice lowered suddenly. “I can’t believe you dragged me along like this.”
He shrugged apologetically. “Sorry, but I had to show you something. And besides”—he gestured at his surroundings—”this place is awesome.”
At that moment, a group of five teenagers walked into the room. Two of them looked up as we entered and immediately stopped talking.
As if on cue, they turned back to their conversation when they realized I wasn’t part of it and began to talk about whatever topic had been occupying them. I watched as Jack greeted each of the kids in turn and exchanged pleasantries.
They weren’t much older than I was, maybe fifteen or sixteen. All of them wore jeans and hoodies, with various brands emblazoned across their chests; the one thing they all had in common was that none of them seemed terribly interested in what Jack was saying to me, though one kid gave me a quick once-over as we passed.
Jack was smiling widely when he finally came to me, so obviously pleased that I felt compelled to return his good cheer with an equally big grin. “Well,” he said, “we’ve met. Hope you don’t think I’m being too weird.”
My smile faded away as I tried to process everything he’d told me thus far. “Weird? No—you’re just—” I glanced at the group of kids behind us. “How old are these people?”
“That’s what I wondered the first time I saw them,” Jack replied. “But apparently this isn’t a normal high school.”
I thought back to the last night I’d spent under the freeway and decided not to ask how the students could have possibly gotten there. “Then you must be very important if you come to visit them regularly.”
He gave me another shy grin. “Not really, but the guys here seem pretty happy to see me.”
There was a sudden commotion from outside the window, and Jack pointed out the door, where two boys and three girls were running toward us, yelling excitedly. When they got close enough, they stopped short, staring at me.
I smiled as brightly as I could and gave the kids a friendly wave, then looked back at Jack, wondering what exactly I should say.
“You know, I didn’t expect you to get a lot of reaction out of them. Most people don’t.” Jack spoke with a such casual ease that he might have been discussing the weather. “The only reason we even noticed it happening was that we’ve been working closely with some of the other members who are involved in training our people. We’ve done a ton of research over the last year.”
I nodded, trying to follow along. “So why aren’t they aware of us? Do they live here? Or are they all over the world?”
“Most of them are spread out in different places; others are still living their lives, but we’ve found that the ones who have taken on this kind of role tend to be more focused on helping the others in need.” He paused for a minute to consider my question.
“Actually, that’s probably the easiest way to put it—they’ve chosen to focus their energies on doing good works. The ones who live here have mostly become like caretakers, keeping an eye on the ones who are gone.”
A new voice interrupted as someone stepped into view behind Jack, making me jump and look down.
“Good news! We’ve found her!” The man’s face lit up with pleasure. “I’m Dr. Kravitz, one of the trainers in this program. I’ll introduce you to everyone in a moment. For now, would you mind staying here while we go find some chairs? We want you to be comfortable.”
The man held out his hand and gave me a smile as warm and sincere as any I’d ever seen. He was tall, with a broad chest that was easily visible beneath the open white shirt and light brown slacks he wore. His black hair was short and styled neatly, his skin dark and smooth, and his eyes were bright and sparkling; he reminded me of Jack but ten times younger.
And when he smiled, it made him even more handsome.
I took his hand in mine and shook it firmly. “Thank you, Doctor.”
Kravitz led us to the dining hall, which was full of tables arranged in neat rows, each holding eight seats and surrounded by a long line of windows looking out onto a grassy lawn and the ocean beyond. The room was brightly lit and airy, and the walls were painted a soft yellow. As soon as I stepped inside, I breathed a sigh of relief.
I hadn’t realized until then how desperately I needed a change of scenery.
Kravitz introduced me to the other staff members who were busy organizing food trays and setting out plates of cookies, sandwiches, pasta salad, and other dishes on every table. “This is our resident doctor,” he said to one of them. “Doctor, this is Dr. D’Angelo.”
She smiled at me and bowed slightly, showing off perfectly manicured fingers adorned with rings of gold and silver. Her clothes matched those of the rest of the staff in a subdued blue and gray pattern, and she was wearing a pair of simple black flats instead of heels.
She was about my age, and though her features were much less pronounced than Jack’s, I couldn’t help noticing how attractive she was. But unlike Jack, she was also beautiful without any hint of pretension or arrogance.
The End