I didn’t move for a long time, drawing my breath in through my nose and out through my mouth, trying to steady myself.
“We have to warn your dad,” I whispered to Avery. “We have enough evidence. He’ll be able to help us.”
“We still don’t know who the Mastermind is,” she said.
“But we know his right-hand man,” I said. “It’ll have to be enough.”
Avery sighed. “I guess it’s time to turn ourselves in.”
“Top three criminals in Magix history . . . ,” said Hamid. “This is going to be big.”
“No offense,” I said. “But technically, you’re not wanted, Hamid.”
“Still, it’s probably not a good idea for you to come with us into Magix Headquarters,” Avery said.
“Is it because I’m just too powerful?” he asked. “My very presence could cause the whole place to explode?”
“Umm . . . no,” said Avery. “But it will be dangerous to take you in. They’ll try to wipe your memory. Besides, we could use someone on the outside.”
“Really?” he said. “For what?”
Avery grinned. “I’ve got a job for you.”
Chapter 32
FRIDAY, MAY 15
1:22 P.M.
THE LAWDENS’ APARTMENT, NEW YORK CITY
“This is a doorbell,” Avery said, holding up the little button. It was strange to see it not attached to the wall.
Avery, Fluffball, and I were in the Lawdens’ apartment on the first floor now. Hamid was no longer with us, having used the seat belt transportation boon from Agent Nguyen to transport himself back to my kitchen. I hoped he would be safer there. Plus, I wanted him to meet up with my mom and fill her in on what happened when she got back from traveling.
Nobody had been home at the Lawdens’ apartment, but Avery had used her key to let us in. It was much nicer and more decorated than the Cleaner’s place upstairs. Avery had led us into her dad’s home office, entering the director’s master code on a small safe and producing the detached doorbell.
“It’s an emergency boon that summons the Doorman,” Avery explained. “All I have to do is push the button and he’ll appear.”
I took a deep breath, holding the box of evidence in both hands. “I’m ready.”
Avery pressed the doorbell. To my surprise, it still made a little chiming sound. The Doorman appeared immediately, turning left and right with a look of utter shock on his face.
“You!” he shouted, his eyes on Avery. “And you!” he yelled louder, his eyes on me.
“We’re turning ourselves in,” Avery explained, holding up her hands to show that she meant no harm. “Could you please open a door to Magix Headquarters?”
“Don’t think you’re getting away with this,” he said, moving toward the office door.
“Umm . . . we don’t,” I said. “That’s why we’re turning ourselves in.”
The Doorman reached out, his diamond ring making a soft click as it touched the hard metal doorknob. I looked at Avery as she scooped Fluffball off the office desk.
This was it. Hopefully, the evidence we’d found and the things we’d learned would be enough to convince Frank Lawden of our innocence. He could help us compile the evidence into non-magical proof that would free my dad.
The Doorman yanked open the office door, and we found ourselves staring into the carpeted hallway of Magix Headquarters. The two guards on duty leaped to their feet as Avery and I stepped in, the door slamming shut behind us.
It was strange to think that, technically, I was still inside Frank Lawden’s home office, shrunk to a microscopic size and housed inside the Doorman’s diamond ring. This thought didn’t last long, as the guards all but pounced on us. They knocked my evidence box to the floor and pinned my arms to my sides with a long chain that was definitely a boon, judging by the way it sparkled and wrapped around me on its own.
“We come in peace,” Avery said. She was chained up, too, but I couldn’t see Fluffball anywhere. “You can tell my father that we’re willing to answer all of his questions.”
“I’m afraid your father won’t be hearing anything you have to say,” said a voice from the hallway to the left.
I whirled, gasping aloud when I saw who was striding toward us. It was Wreckage. Not Agent Clarkston in his gray suit and top hat—he was dressed as Wreckage. The welding mask was covering his face, and the reflective immunity vest glimmered in the fluorescent lights of the hallway.
And our enemy wasn’t alone. Wreckage was flanked by half a dozen Magix workers in gray, though I didn’t recognize any of them.
“Do something!” I shouted to the guards. “That man is Special Agent Clarkston. He’s a hired bounty hunter working to take down Magix.”
But instead of setting us free, the guards offered the dangling ends of the chains to Wreckage. “They’re all yours, sir,” one of them said.
“The Mastermind will be sure to reward your loyalty,” Wreckage said.
“Stiiiiiinky!” came a battle cry from a familiar deep voice. I saw Fluffball pounce, a blur of white against the dark carpet. He landed on Wreckage’s leg, sinking in his huge buckteeth.
Wreckage howled in pain, his gloved hand coming down and slapping the rabbit to the floor. Fluffball leaped up, but before he could strike again, Wreckage had him by the ears.
“You wanna piece of me?” Fluffball goaded him, red eyes wincing in pain as he dangled by his ears. “I’ve eaten carrots that were tougher than you! It’s going to take a lot more than—”
Fluffball was instantly silenced as Wreckage ripped off the red boon collar.
“No!” I cried, trying to lunge at him, but the guard held me back.
Wreckage tossed the collar and the bunny to the floor like they were garbage. “Put them in that box and let’s go,” he instructed one of his workers. “We don’t want to keep the Mastermind waiting.”
It took a second for the workers to corner Fluffball. He looked scared, eyes darting around the hallway without a trace of his usual intelligence. Wreckage took the chains from the guard and dragged us down the hallway.
“I don’t understand,” Avery said. “Why isn’t anyone stopping you?”
“Those who would try are currently ‘stuck’ in a meeting,” he said. “Welcome to the new Magix. Some of us have been waiting years for this day.”
“It was always more than you and the Cleaner,” I said. “How many Magix agents were crooked?”
“Enough to do what needed to be done,” said Wreckage. “Finally.”
We reached the end of the hallway, and one of the workers scanned her security card, opening the elevator doors. With a jangle of chains, we filed in, the elevator quite full with the nine of us. I could hear Fluffball thumping around inside the evidence box, helpless and afraid.
“Where’s my father?” Avery demanded.
Wreckage chuckled. “You want to cry to Daddy? Tell him to make everything better? Frank Lawden is in no position to help you now.”
“What did you do to him?” she muttered.
“He’s fine,” said Wreckage. “You’ll see him soon enough. I thought he’d like to watch everything he has worked for come to an end.”
“He’ll stop you,” whispered Avery. But I didn’t think she sounded too convincing.
“Take us down,” Wreckage said. The worker scanned her card again, and the elevator began to descend.
“Down?” I said. Weren’t we leaving the ground floor of Magix Headquarters? The only thing down from here was . . .
“Lina Lutzdorf,” Avery whispered.
The elevator stopped, and I waited with dread for the doors to open. So much had happened since Magix had arrested me two days ago. Despite everything we’d learned, I felt my hopes for justice come crashing down as the elevator doors opened to reveal Lina Lutzdorf.
“So glad you could join us,” the woman said, standing in the middle of the large room. She was wearing a glittery red dress, as though she were headed to the Oscars.
Her black hair was tucked up and curled, and her makeup was thicker than ever.
There was a new feature in the middle of the suite that I recognized immediately. It was the large thermometer that measured the level of the magic core, the temperature now showing 37 degrees. It had been ripped from its pedestal in the Hall of Justice and was now propped on Lina’s glass coffee table.
There were only two other people in the room—Lionel Albrecht, who was seated at the kitchen table, drinking something from a stout glass, and Frank Lawden, who was sitting perfectly still in an armchair with a loose necktie around his neck.
“I’m afraid your father won’t be participating much in this conversation,” Lina said to Avery. “That boon around his neck is keeping him totally still and silent for the time being.”
Ah. So the tie was just like the one we’d used on Talbot. Except it seemed this one hadn’t been manipulated to let Mr. Lawden move his head.
“But I assure you,” Lina continued, “he can hear and see everything. Would you like to have a seat before we begin?” She gestured to the couches.
“Begin what?” I spat.
“My final plan, of course,” she replied coolly. “I guess I should explain. You see, I’m the one responsible for all of this. The one who makes the plans. I’m the one who calls the shots.” Lina Lutzdorf put her hands on her hips. “I am the Mastermind.”
I felt frozen inside. Of course she was! How had we not seen this coming?
“It doesn’t matter,” Avery bravely declared. “We know everything.”
Lina clucked her tongue disdainfully. “You know nothing.”
“We know about the Cleaner,” Avery said, pointing across the room at Lionel Albrecht. “We know that you hired him to rob the First Central Bank, using a disguise boon that made him look just like Mr. Morrison. The Cleaner planted mirrors over the security cameras outside the bank so the magical reflection could be recorded. Then he used the same trick to rob the boon church, framing Mason so that Magix would arrest him when he activated the music box.”
“The music box,” I whispered. “It was always about the music box, wasn’t it? You set me up so I’d get arrested because you thought they’d bring the box here. And you need it to transport yourself out of this basement prison.”
Lina Lutzdorf laughed. She clapped her hands a few times in mock applause at our words. Then her face suddenly grew serious.
“Like I said,” Lina remarked, “you don’t know anything. Sure, you figured out how Mr. Albrecht robbed the bank and the church. I warned him that someone would figure out the mirror trick.”
“Hey! It worked!” the custodian said, raising his glass to toast his own efforts. “A double reflection made it so the images on the videos were not reversed. It fooled them long enough.”
Lina waved a hand at him. “That was Lionel’s doing. But you’re wrong about my plans. I don’t have the music box.”
“But we heard Agent Clarkston say—”
“Exactly what I asked him to say, knowing that you were listening,” said Lina. “Knowing that you were starting to put the pieces together. You see, I don’t need the music box. I never did. Why would I, when I could just ask anyone in this room to kindly escort me outside? This was never about some transportation boon.” She looked right at me. “It was about you.”
“Me?” I croaked. “What are you talking about?”
Lina Lutzdorf seated herself on a velvet ottoman. “Shall I start at the beginning?”
Chapter 33
FRIDAY, MAY 15
1:50 P.M.
BASEMENT LEVEL, MAGIX HEADQUARTERS
“When I was eleven years old,” Lina began, “I crashed my bicycle in the street, and a car drove over my left leg. Uncle Lionel saw it happen and rushed me to the hospital.”
Uncle Lionel? I glanced at the custodian. The Cleaner was Lina’s uncle?
“He stayed by my side until they took me back for surgery,” she went on. “It was the most intense pain I have ever felt. Most of you wouldn’t know how excruciating it is to have your femur snapped in two. But Mason knows. Don’t you, boy?”
I stared at her. What did my broken leg have to do with anything? So what if Lina and I had that in common? It didn’t mean I was going to be her friend.
“The surgeon who took care of me was brand-new to the job,” she continued. “It was his very first operation, and he did a remarkable job, considering it took three metal rods and seventy-two stitches to piece me back together. His name was Dr. Roger Archibald. Does that ring a bell?”
It did. That was the same surgeon who had taken care of my broken leg. Where was she going with all of this?
“Your surgery was actually Dr. Archibald’s last,” Lina said. “Did you know that?”
I shook my head. I hadn’t realized it. Why did that matter?
“Three months after your surgery, he was in Utah, celebrating his retirement with a skiing trip,” Lina continued. “On his drive up the canyon, he came across a vehicle that had hit a patch of ice and gone off the road. Inside the car were a mother and two small children, upside down, three feet deep in a freezing river. Old Dr. Archibald didn’t hesitate. He splashed into the water, rescuing the mother and both children. But his legs were severely frozen, the nerves permanently damaged. He’s in a wheelchair now, but his act of pure goodness triggered a release of magic deep within the earth.” She pointed to the thermometer on the glass table. “The magic reached the top and it bubbled out, soaking into certain objects the doctor had touched. Objects that had meant something throughout his life. That’s how I became a human boon.”
“That’s impossible,” Avery snapped. “You can’t be a boon. The detectors don’t register anything when they look at you.”
“That’s because the boon is inside me,” she said, pointing to her left leg.
“The metal rods,” I whispered. “They filled with magic after Dr. Archibald saved that family . . .”
“That’s not how it works!” Avery cried. “The magic fades as soon as it enters a person’s body.”
“Also true,” said Lina. “After I received my powers, I was confused about how it had happened. Uncle Lionel stumbled across my old X-rays while using a detector. He realized that one of the rods in my leg had become a boon. We set out to make more human boons like myself, building our criminal network. We injected small known boons under our subjects’ skin, but the magic faded, just as Avery pointed out. Nothing worked.”
“It’s because you’re making it up,” said Avery.
“No,” barked Lina. “It’s because the boon cannot be inserted. It must already be inside the person when it turns magical. It was an ordinary rod in my leg for over two decades. Then, three years ago, it became a boon, making me immune to all other boons around me. Once we realized how this had happened, my uncle and I stopped trying to create human boons. Instead, we looked for another like me. We knew Dr. Archibald had caused the magic to boil over, so we started there. It was a daunting search—literally thousands of X-rays from his long career as a surgeon. But we narrowed it down. We knew it had to be a permanent implant that Dr. Archibald had touched. We knew it had to be a surgery that meant something significant to the doctor. And that’s how we figured it out. I was his first surgery . . . and you were his last.”
I shook my head, my hand absently rubbing at my old scar on my right leg. “No,” I muttered. “I’m not a boon. I don’t have any special powers . . .”
“You never had time to discover your powers,” said Lina. “Because my people got to you first.”
“The vent cover,” Avery whispered. “It was a dampener boon that stopped any magical abilities Mason might have had.”
“Now you’re catching on,” said Lina. “The metal rod in Mason Mortimer Morrison’s leg was one of the most dangerous types of boons ever known.”
“What does it do?” I asked, dreading the answer but needing to hear it.
“It activates other boons without knowledge,” she
said.
“That’s how I used the music box during my book report.” I spoke softly.
“Yes,” said Lina. “Because Vanderbeek removed the vent from your bedroom the night before. You were in possession of the music box by the time the dampener wore off. We knew you’d activate the little box the moment you opened the lid.”
Everything made so much sense now!
Avery was staring at me like she didn’t even recognize me anymore. “The banister post that you used to break the window on the ninth floor,” she said. “I couldn’t figure out how you used it when neither of us knew what it could do.”
“And the bedspring,” I said, remembering the way my leg had cramped. “It froze my leg because . . . I’ve been a boon all along.”
“Well, just for the last three years or so,” said Lina. “And it was a full-time job to keep you from finding out.”
“You broke up my family,” I whispered. “You tried to ruin my life.”
She shook her head. “Your dad became a problem when my sources picked up traces of reversal boon magic on his hands—a gift he was planning to give you. But we couldn’t let that happen.”
“Because a reversal boon would have changed the vent in my room,” I said. “Instead of dampening magic, it would have amplified it.”
“Which, in turn would have caused your magical ability to flare up before I was ready,” she said. “It’s difficult to coordinate everything from the basement of a hidden magical building. My two years locked up here really slowed down my plans for you.”
Plans for me? That sent a shiver down my spine.
“What are you going to do with him?” Avery asked, her voice threatening.
“Magic isn’t fair,” spat Lina, her beautiful face twisting. “It benefits those who are Ignorant, and it punishes those who are Educated.”
“Hey. If you want to forget about magic,” said Avery, “we can arrange a memory wipe. We can easily turn you into a happy little Ig.”
“Except you can’t,” said Lina, patting her leg. “We looked into having the rods surgically removed—they were intended to be permanent, even though my leg has been healed for over twenty years. Unfortunately, surgery isn’t an option. The magic has fused itself with my leg. Removing it could be fatal. That’s why I’ve been rotting down here in Magix’s basement for the last two years. My immunity boon won’t allow any memory wiping to take effect against me.”
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