The Magicians' Convention

by Elena Paige

  “Oh, that’s a wonderful idea, Aden. Thank you,” said Wesa, rummaging through the hundreds of hats sprawled carelessly on the floor. She picked up one that changed to green.

  “Oh, don’t mind that one. That’s a color-changing hat. It’s designed to do that. So how do you know that the Kirbys are also after the hat?” said Aden.

  Thatch dropped a golden hat he was about to try on. “I know why Billy, Rod, and Jim touched Toby earlier today. And then were trying to touch Wesa!” He sat down as though exhausted by his realization.

  “Go on! Share it with the rest of us then,” said Toby.

  “Ah yes, that does make sense,” said Aden. “The triplets are mages. Their magic ability is to take the identity of the person they touch. In every possible way. Well, they won’t look like you, but they’ll be you, until they touch someone else. Your powers will be their powers. Very clever,” he said, allowing himself to fall into the seat next to Thatch.

  He smiled and tapped Thatch on the back. “Well done for working it out, lad. Very clever.”

  “They want to be us so they can activate the hat?” said Toby, biting his lip as he caught up to Thatch and Aden’s realization.

  “But they haven’t touched us yet, right? We just have to make sure they don’t,” said Wesa.

  “We stopped them from touching you, but one of them, I think it was Billy, touched me this morning. I thought he was some sort of creepy perv or something,” said Toby.

  Thatch groaned. “Rod touched me earlier today. I’m such an idiot. I should have known better than to believe he was being nice to me. When Toby told me about them purposefully touching him, I guessed something was up. That’s why we stopped them from touching you, Wesa.”

  “They’re trying to take your identities to activate the hat,” said Aden, his eyes as wide as a child’s.

  “But they haven’t touched me, so they can’t,” said Wesa.

  “Not yet. But I bet they’ll try again,” said Thatch.

  “Not if they don’t know she’s Wesa,” said Aden, jumping up and dancing around in a childlike manner. He looked absolutely giddy with glee.

  “Let me guess—magic!” said Toby.

  “Exactly, lad. How about a clever disguise, my dear girl?”

  Aden started pacing the floor with enthusiasm. “In fact, you need an entirely new identity.” He paused and flashed his bright teeth, raised a singular eyebrow, and then began pacing once more. “Yes, that’s it,” he said to himself. “How would you like to be an illusionist for a day? See how the other side lives? Yes, yes, it’s a marvelous idea. Quite the best one I’ve had in a while!” He slapped his hands together.

  “Really? What did you have in mind?” said Wesa.

  “How about being, hm, let me see . . .”

  He stroked the thick blond hair sticking out from under his gold hat. “I’ve got it. Today you shall be Bonnie. Yes, Bonnie will do just fine. A good American name.”

  “So I change my name for the day and wear a golden hat, and you think the Kirbys won’t recognize me?” said Wesa, looking nervous .

  “Well, give me more credit than that, won’t you, lass? I’ve a much better plan than that. Now let me see where my special dust is. Ah yes. Here it is!” Aden picked up a small container from his messy floor.

  “It is safe what you have planned, isn’t it?” said Thatch.

  “Yes, of course it is. Harmless. It’s the perfect illusion.” Aden rubbed his hands together, then dipped them into the powdered chalk.

  “You’re sure about this?” said Wesa, holding her hat so tightly Toby could see the wire straining beneath the purple silk.

  “Abracadabra,” called Aden, unexpectedly sprinkling the chalk-like dust all over Wesa. She coughed as he took hold of both her hands, then let go and stepped back.

  “What have you done?” said Thatch, trying to clear the air, which was now so full of dust they couldn’t even see Wesa anymore.

  Toby just sat there in awe and waited to see the outcome of Aden’s magic.

  “What’s happened to me?” came Wesa’s voice through the dust.

  “That’s not Wesa!” said Toby, not recognizing her accent.

  “What did you do to her?” yelled Thatch, grabbing Aden by the T-shirt and shaking him.

  “Oh, goodness me. Settle down, lad. It’s all fine, I tell you.”

  As the dust cleared, Thatch dropped Aden’s shirt. Toby dropped the bending fork he had been playing with. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Wesa no longer looked like Wesa.

  “Why are you all looking at me like that? And what’s happened to my voice? Something’s wrong with the way I look, isn’t it? Did you give me warts? A big nose?” She looked around the room for a mirror.

  “On the contrary, my dear. You look absolutely charming. You’re just a blonde-haired, blue-eyed twelve-year-old American illusionist. No one will ever recognize you,” said Aden, beaming. He danced around like his feet were on fire.

  Wesa finally spied a small hand mirror. Picking it up, she gasped at the sight of her new appearance.

  “Sorry about the . . .” Thatch pointed to Aden’s T-shirt while looking down at the floor.

  “That’s quite all right, lad. You’re just protective of your friend. No harm done,” said Aden, slapping Thatch on the back jovially.

  Toby couldn’t take his eyes off Wesa. “Say something?” he pleaded. Her accent was so authentic and southern.

  “Is this what everyone will see when they look at me?” asked Wesa, stroking her gold ringlets and opening her eyes wide as she looked at herself in the mirror.

  “Yes, it most certainly is. But just like Cinderella, the magic will wear off eventually. Don’t tell anybody I’m your fairy godmother.” He laughed aloud with such lightness, the children laughed with him.

  “Even my dress has changed color. It’s rather brilliant, Mr. McDermott. I mean Aden. I don’t know how to thank you.” She held tight to her original purple mage hat. “But what about my hat?”

  “Give me yours before you squeeze it to death. Here is a perfectly good illusionist hat. Now you’re Bonnie from head to toe,” said Aden, popping the hat on her head.

  “Now off you go, you three—you have a hat to find. You know where to find me if you need me. ”

  Thatch was once more fidgeting with his coin. “Everyone is a magician now, except for me.”

  “You’re absolutely right, my boy. What have I been thinking! You should all be magicians for the day. That’s the best way to fit right in. We can’t have you traipsing through the main pavilion in your security outfit,” said Aden.

  Thatch’s face went rosy red. “Really?”

  “Thatch is a wonderfully accomplished magician. It’s all he’s ever dreamed of being. Except he’s not allowed,” said Wesa.

  “Well, that’s all about to change today,” said Aden, handing Thatch a gold hat. “Now duck behind the dressing divider, take off those horrid overalls, and put on some pants instead. No magician wears overalls.”

  Thatch came back out, wearing oversized pants held up with a belt and the same red top he had on under his overalls. He was beaming from ear to ear.

  “You look wonderful!” said Wesa proudly. “You make a wonderful magician.”

  Toby could tell magic was really important to Thatch. Whenever Thatch got nervous, he would take out a coin and start doing magic tricks with it, or he would furiously shuffle his worn-out deck of cards.

  Wesa placed her arms across Toby’s and Thatch’s shoulders. “Off we go then.”

  “Wow, that accent of yours is so real, I keep forgetting you’re Wesa. There’s just one little problem. Please, sir, can you teach me a magic trick so I can feel like I’m a real magician?” Toby looked at the golden carpet beneath his wriggling feet .

  “Ah, you want to earn your hat. That’s very honorable of you, lad.”

  “We don’t have time for this. I’ll teach you magic later,” said Thatch.

  “There’s always time
for a quick trick or two, my friends. Come, sit down for another minute. Time to learn some magic,” said Aden, clearing the small coffee table of their drinks. “What’s a magician without magic after all?”

  Toby’s only family had gone missing. His life had been turned upside down. But he had never felt happier. He was at a magical convention, surrounded by friends. And now he was about to learn magic.

  12

  How To Do a Magic Trick

  “First, an oldie but a goodie—the disappearing-and-reappearing coin trick,” said Aden, flicking the coin into the air and splaying his hands as it disappeared. “But don’t despair. It’s in your left pocket, Toby.”

  “How did you do that?” Toby asked as he pulled the coin from his pocket.

  Aden taught him the trick, which Toby picked up quickly after a few mishaps. The first time, he vanished it completely, only to find it on the other side of the room. And the second time, he dropped it onto Thatch’s head. But third time lucky, he nailed the trick, reappearing the coin in Aden’s pocket. It was all about the art of distraction.

  Thatch was already impressively good at it. As was Wesa who had practiced illusion magic since she was a toddler.

  Aden then showed them some ball-and-cup tricks. “The best magicians master the simple magic first,” said Aden, taking on a most serious tone.

  “To begin the trick, I shall place this ball under one of these three inverted cups. Now I will proceed to make the ball jump invisibly from one cup to another, like so.” He paused for effect, and the children clapped when the ball did exactly that. “And I can also make the ball multiply, like so.”

  “Fantastic!” Toby was completely immersed in the magic performance.

  “Of course, this seemingly simple trick isn’t simple at all. Aided by distracting you and a very skilled sleight of hand, I am able to add additional balls while secretly removing others,” Aden said, revealing how he did it.

  “Let me try,” begged Thatch. He performed the trick perfectly on the first try.

  “I was never very good at ball-and-cup tricks,” confessed Wesa.

  “You’re impressively good at these tricks, Thatch. What a shame you’re not allowed to perform them. You’d make a wonderful apprentice.”

  “Thank you, sir. That means a lot coming from you,” said Thatch.

  Equipped with a variety of coin, card, and ball-and-cup illusions, Toby wanted to learn the oldest trick in the book. “So can I pull a rabbit out of a hat?”

  “Yes, of course you can. Hold your hat and think of a rabbit. A big fluffy rabbit. That’s it.”

  Toby concentrated hard on the biggest fluffiest rabbit he could think of. With his eyes shut tight, he placed his hand inside and pulled out something soft and fluffy. Everyone laughed. Opening his eyes to see a stuffed toy bunny, Toby couldn’t resist laughing at himself either.

  “A terrible joke on my behalf, I know. But I couldn’t resist,” said Aden, laughing the loudest .

  “How did you get that into my hat?” Toby turned the rabbit over curiously.

  “I can’t tell you all my secrets, now can I?” said Aden, drumming his fingers on his chin. “How exactly do you intend to test every single hat at the convention? What’s your plan?”

  “A plan? We don’t have one,” said Toby, wishing he could stay in Aden’s private quarters and just learn magic all day long.

  “We haven’t thought about how to get people’s hats without seeming suspicious. It could be anyone’s hat we’re looking for, and there are hundreds of people here,” said Wesa.

  “Exactly two-and-a-half thousand magicians to be exact. Dad and I have the list. And one party crasher,” said Thatch, shaking a finger at Toby.

  “Why do you have so many hats, Aden?” wondered Toby aloud.

  “I’m a bit of a collector, I must admit. I love hats. Even purple ones,” he said, lifting a mixture from among the mess. “Perhaps the sensible thing to do is check my hats just as you first suggested. Wouldn’t that be a stroke of luck to find it here? Then you could get back the things that have been taken from you.”

  They still hadn’t told Aden what was really at stake if they failed. Toby, Thatch, and Wesa looked at each other, blank-faced.

  “So how do we do this?” said Thatch.

  “I guess we have to touch each hat at the same time for it to work,” said Wesa.

  “Let’s check the ones we’re wearing first,” said Toby .

  “Good idea,” said Wesa.

  They placed their hands on Wesa’s gold hat first. Nothing happened. They touched Toby’s and Thatch’s hats next, but they too remained golden. They tried all the rest of Aden’s hats and nothing happened to any of them.

  “This will never work,” said Thatch, falling back on the couch.

  “I think I have an idea. I read in a book one time about five guys who planned to rob a bank. In order to get a closer look at the bank, they got hired as the cleaners. While they were cleaning the bank every day, they would look for important details to help them break in when the time was right,” said Toby.

  “How is that going to help us?” said Thatch.

  “Well, we could pretend we’re cleaning hats,” said Toby.

  “It’s a great idea, lad, but it won’t work, I’m afraid. The hats are self-mending and self-cleaning. They’re all made by Mr. Okumora, a Japanese mage who designed them all that way,” said Aden.

  Toby felt bitterly disappointed.

  “So that’s how my hat mended itself after the triplets destroyed it,” said Toby.

  “What about if we say we’re looking for a stolen hat? Thatch is security, so the magicians will happily hand over their hats for him to check them,” said Wesa.

  “Was security. I’m a magician now.” He held onto his hat with both hands, pulling it to his chest.

  “It is a better idea.” Toby avoided making eye contact with Thatch. He knew Thatch wouldn’t be happy that he agreed with Wesa .

  “I must say, I think that’s a mighty good idea,” agreed Aden.

  “But if Mr. Kirby sees me inside, that’s worse, isn’t it? I’m supposed to stay in the foyer. Kirby has his own security inside the convention,” said Thatch.

  “I doubt the magicians will care what sort of security you are,” said Wesa in her American accent. “It’s a really good plan. And we’ll just have to stay out of Kirby’s sight. I don’t see how else we can check people’s hats. Your dad needs your help more than anything else right now.”

  “Fine,” said Thatch bitterly, throwing his hat across the room. He ducked behind the divider to change back into his overalls.

  Toby felt bad for him. He would hate being security at this amazing convention, and having to spend the day in that horrible foyer corridor. He couldn’t think of anything worse.

  “Hey, Thatch,” called out Wesa.

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you remember when we met at the convention last year after I had failed my performance? It was you that found me crying behind the stage and cheered me up with your vanishing tricks. Do you remember what I said to you?”

  Thatch didn’t answer.

  “Thatch?”

  He stepped out from behind the divider wearing his familiar overalls once again. The word security blaring on the front and back clearly stated he wasn’t a magician.

  “What about it?” he said, looking down at his feet.

  “I said I would help you find a way to become the first magician who wasn’t of magical blood. I meant it, Thatch. I won’t give up trying to change the stupid rules. I think you’re a wonderful magician.”

  “Listen to the lass,” said Aden. “She’s got a smart head on her shoulders. I agree with her.”

  “You do? Even when it’s against the rules?” said Wesa.

  “Rules are made by the Council, and the Council is full of thugs. They’re all brainwashed high-for-nothing dimwits if you ask me.”

  Toby was beginning to understand there were a lot of rules and opini
ons about who could and couldn’t do magic. He felt bad Thatch was not allowed to be a magician despite how good he was at magic.

  He thought about Wesa, and how she could do illusions, plus real magic, but resented being a magician. What about him? If he was able to activate the magical hat everyone wanted so badly, could he do magic too?

  “Now off you three go for real this time. The clock is ticking. There are only eight more hours before the convention is done and dusted for another year,” said Aden, disturbing Toby from his thoughts.

  Toby pushed his own selfish thoughts about being magical aside. He had to focus on finding Grandpa. That was all that mattered. Finding the magical hat before the Kirbys did and saving Grandpa.

  13

  The Search Begins

  Toby, Thatch, and Wesa all agreed to check hats in the illusion half of the pavilion first. Thatch was still in a bad mood about having to change back to security.

  “You can wear my hat when we’re done,” said Toby, trying to cheer him up.

  “Thanks. That’s really good of you, but you should keep it,” said Thatch in a flat voice.

  “We can say that a reporter broke into the convention. That will stir up a panic. Then they’ll gladly hand over their hats,” said Wesa.

  “Why is that bad?” said Toby.

  “Apart from protecting magicians’ illusions, can you imagine if people everywhere knew that some of us had real magic?”

  Now that Toby thought about it, it was kind of obvious.

  “So how come Mr. Kirby has so much power around here?” asked Toby .

  “He’s in charge of organizing the convention. He's also the president of the Magical Council,” said Wesa.

  Toby imagined this big round table full of magicians arguing over who was allowed to perform what trick at their next performance. What else would a council in charge of magicians do?

  “Excuse me, sir,” Thatch said to a huge passerby. “There’s whisper of a reporter at the convention. Now don’t panic. We don’t know for sure, but we need to check your hat to make sure you’re a real magician.”