by Elena Paige
“You two really are hopeless,” said Thatch, belittling them.
“Don’t do anything stupid, Thatch, or she gets it,” said Billy.
Toby peered over the chair he was hiding behind. Thatch put down the statue. Wesa, standing on the far side of the room, had a knife pointed at her face.
“I mean it. I’ll do it,” came Billy’s voice. With one hand around Wesa’s neck, the other held a small pocketknife to her cheek. Wesa was white as a ghost and visibly trembling.
“Don’t listen to him. Let them have it!” called Wesa.
“You win. You’ve got our attention. What do you want?” said Thatch, allowing Rod to grab both his hands and hold them behind his back.
Toby wasn’t going to give in so easily. He kicked Jim and ran for the exit.
“One more step and she gets it,” said Billy, holding the knife so close to Wesa’s cheek she screamed.
Toby stopped short of the curtain and turned around to face Billy. He had always run from his bullies. He had spent his whole life running. Constantly teased for not having parents. For not having a TV. And then for dropping out of school. Something in him snapped. “Bullying girls now, are you? ”
Seeing Billy clench his teeth in response, he continued his taunts. “You’re a real hero, aren’t you? Think you three idiots have the brains to find the hat before we do? I doubt it.”
“Shut up or she gets it,” yelled Billy, his knife hand beginning to shake.
“Fine. Whatever. I don’t care about her. I’m going to find the hat before you do, Billy, and when I do, you’ll be sorry,” said Toby, impressed with his own words as he spat them out. “And we’ve hidden Wesa so you won’t ever find her. We know you can’t activate the hat until you do. We’re going to activate it first, and when we do, your powers are the first ones I’ll take!”
Billy’s eyes grew so big they almost bulged out of his head. As the truth of Toby’s words hit him square in the face, he pushed Wesa to the ground and ran for Toby. As he reached out to punch him, Toby ducked, causing Billy to run headfirst into the coffee table. Toby kicked him from behind and sent him reeling into the couch.
Thatch joined suit. Raising his lucky coin from his pocket, he directed it straight at Rod’s eye—catching him unawares. Rod howled in pain and fell to the floor. After returning the coin to his pocket, Thatch helped Wesa up.
Billy stood up recovering from Toby’s kick. He called out, “Jim, they’re getting away.” But Toby was too fast for him. He ducked and weaved between all the expensive furniture and statues laid out in the room and ran for the curtain.
“Let’s go, you guys!” he called out to Wesa and Thatch.
Billy roared like a tiger whose meal was getting away.
As Toby pulled the curtain aside, tiny hands pushed him backward. Catching his footing, he looked up to see a doll! Its hands against his chest, he retreated. The doll’s porcelain head lolled from side to side as it glided through the air, baring its teeth at him. It was fully alive and floating toward him.
He ran back inside. He caught sight of Thatch struggling with Jim. Wesa lay on the couch, captive to Rod, who was still nursing his eye.
Billy roared toward him. How was he going to get out of this one?
“Ouch!” yelled Toby, feeling prickles in his neck. Realizing the doll had bitten him, he reached for it, trying to get it off. But as Billy grabbed him and twisted his arm behind his back, and the doll’s teeth sank deeper into his neck, he felt his usual urge to faint. With every ounce of energy left in him, he regained his vigor. There was no way he was going to let those triplets win!
But he also knew when to admit defeat. Jim was holding his wand toward Thatch with one hand, and a sharp dart in the other. Wesa, meanwhile, was on the couch with Rod’s foot in her back.
“Fine—you win!” he called.
“You won’t get away with this. We’ll still find the hat first,” yelled Thatch, panting.
Wesa, face down, peered up at the curtain as it moved aside. “How could you, Abby?”
“Come, Annabelle,” said Abby in the same monotone voice she had used earlier.
What had the Kirbys done to her? Toby felt the sharp teeth release from the nape of his neck. The doll glided to Abby, who hugged it to her chest .
“I’m not on anyone’s side. Really, I’m not,” said Abby, speaking directly to Toby.
“I find that hard to believe. And what? Your doll is possessed now?” Toby rubbed his neck with his free hand. It felt smooth and pain free.
“Shut your mouth,” said Billy, twisting Toby’s arm and causing him to double over in pain.
Abby giggled suddenly, more like her old self. “Isn’t it wonderful? Now you know why I love my dolls so much. They’re alive.” She danced her now lifeless doll around in her hands.
“Abby!” Billy yelled at her.
Abby returned back to her more subdued self.
“What have you done to her? Why is she doing what you tell her? You’ve put a spell on her or something!” yelled Wesa.
“Oh, shut up, blondie! You don’t know anything about this. So stay out of it,” said Billy.
Noticing that Rod and Jim were distracted, laughing at Wesa, who they thought was Bonnie, Toby winked at Thatch from across the room.
Toby took a deep breath to summon the courage, and then he elbowed Billy in the stomach with his free arm. Thatch picked up on the signal and punched Jim in the face, knocking him out cold. Wesa followed suit. Her hands burst into flames, two tiger-shaped flame animals emerging.
Rod fainted as the animals roared more flames at him before disappearing into smoke. Wesa sat up, straightened her gold hat on her head, and lit her hands up with flames, pointing them at Abby.
Toby glanced down and noticed Billy had hit his head. He wouldn’t bother him anymore for now. Before Toby could relax, the doll came flying through the air toward him. He threw it with all his strength at Abby. Pleased he got her square in the face, she fell to the floor.
“Let’s get out of here quick,” he called to Thatch and Wesa. As he ran for the curtain he felt his body go icy-cold. Unable to move his arm frozen in midair, his mouth hung wide open midsentence. Toby could see everything but was unable to move, just like earlier that day at the mage stage.
“What do we have here?” said a dry, amused voice.
Toby watched helplessly as Mr. Kirby glanced at his three sons lying unconscious on the carpet. “Imbeciles.”
He casually walked toward Wesa. She stood straight and fierce with the fire pouring from her hands, flames frozen in midair. “This is a surprise. A surprise indeed.”
Looking pleased with himself, Alexander Kirby moved toward Thatch next. “Quite gallant, aren’t you? For a nobody.” He moved face to face with Thatch. “You’re not a magician. You will never be a magician. You’re nothing—just like your father! You’ll stop looking for the hat immediately. Or I’ll have no choice but to fire your father. And hurt your little friends here. You wouldn’t want that, now would you?” He laughed like a snake about to eat its prey. Then he composed himself, stroking his mustache and straightening his hat.
He walked toward Toby next. Toby felt Kirby circle him a few times before stopping to face him.
“Quite the troublemaker, aren’t you? Breaking into the convention when you’re not even a magician.” Kirby paused and waved his finger at Toby. “There’s still time to get out of all this. The hat is nothing to you. This world is nothing to you. Why don’t you go home now and return to your normal life? You can, you know? I can help you. What do you say?” He stroked his chin and smiled.
Toby didn’t believe a word he said. Kirby knew more about him than he knew about himself. He had sent his sons to touch him that morning, knowing full well exactly who he was. Toby felt determination rising to meet his fear. He had to find out the truth now, no matter what the cost.
Feeling his lips suddenly able to move, while the rest of him stayed frozen, he replied. “No, thank you.�
�� He was surprised by the calmness in his voice and words.
“Stupid boy! Fine. Have it your way. I’ll take great pleasure in killing your grandfather. I did, after all, quite enjoy killing your father all those years ago.” He laughed, causing his black mustache to jiggle up and down as though it, too, was laughing at Toby.
A single tear leaked from Toby’s eye.
Pleased with himself, Mr. Kirby shook off his purple top hat and surveyed it proudly. “It won’t be long before illusionists are no more and the mages become the rightful magicians on the Earth. I’ll take great pride in killing them all. Starting with—”
But he never got to finish his sentence.
17
A Secret Hideout
“Follow me. Quickly,” said the man who had saved them.
Able to move freely now, Toby looked at Mr. Kirby face up on the floor. The vase that had rendered him unconscious was lying next to him, broken. Toby took his opportunity and kicked Kirby in the ribs.
“Toby!” called Wesa from across the room.
“What? He deserved it.” Toby felt justified in his actions. In fact he felt good kicking Kirby and wanted to do it again.
“Come on, you two. Hurry,” called Thatch from the other side of the curtain.
Toby stepped into the main hall, trying as hard as he could to calm his beating heart and smile naturally so as not to alert the magicians watching the video surveillance on the many televisions. Luckily, their eyes were glued to the screens.
Despite his severe limp, the man who had saved them moved through the crowd with precision and grace. Toby hadn’t caught a proper look at their savior. His long black cloak concealed him.
Toby couldn’t get Mr. Kirby’s words out of his mind. “I enjoyed killing your father.” If his parents were alive, Kirby didn’t seem to know it.
He sped up as Wesa and Thatch disappeared into the crowd in front of him. Everything around him was moving in slow motion. The words “killing your father” rang in his head over and over again like a broken record. He felt like the floating candles above him were descending on him. He couldn’t breathe. The crowd seemed to rush at him. His head throbbed with intensity as the blood rushed to it. And for the third time that day, he fell unconscious to the floor.
The familiar smell of flowers filled Toby’s senses. His eyes drank in the posies all around him and the warmth of the sun on his skin. He felt so happy. Coins swam through the air. He felt his chubby hands try to catch them and heard his own innocent laughter ringing in his ears. A purple hat lay before him on the green grass, reflecting the warm sun. A giant rabbit poked its head out, teasing him. As he reached for it, he felt himself lifted high in the air.
A face—a woman’s face—came closer. He felt her ruby red lips as they touched his cheek. He felt tickles. He moved from side to side, giggling. He put his hands on her face. She smiled at him. “It’s time to go.”
“Toby! Wake up! ”
He resisted the voice trying to wake him. He opened his eyes and saw Thatch’s face looking down on him.
“I saw her. I saw my mother just now in my dreams.” He shook his head trying to summon more memories of her. He had never dreamed of her before now. Or was it a memory? It seemed so real.
Feeling the hard surface under his head, he looked around. The ceiling above him seemed close enough to touch. Giant metal cylinders glowed all around him as the little light there was reflected off them. He followed the light to its source and saw Wesa a few meters away. Her hands were lit up in flames.
“Hey,” he called to her.
Wesa ran to his side. “You're awake.”
“Yep.” He couldn’t summon any more words as he remembered all that had happened.
“You passed out,” said Thatch, helping him to his feet. Toby could see the worry on his face.
“Toby. We heard what Mr. Kirby said to you. About killing your father,” said Wesa. Her big blue eyes blinked at Toby, filling with tears.
“Where am I and how did I get here?”
“We’re in the attic. We carried you up here. And you’re welcome. We’re just glad you’re all right,” said Thatch.
Toby glanced over at the man who had rescued them. He sat on a wooden beam, out of the light.
He hadn’t taken a good look at his savior earlier, but as Toby stepped closer to him, he saw him clearly for the first time. His face was disfigured. Badly burned, Toby guessed, by the look of it. He had small slits for eyes and his nose was visibly crooked. His mouth looked like it couldn’t possibly stretch open to speak.
He stood up as Toby stared at him wide-eyed and leaned heavily on his one good leg; the other made of metal reflected the light. He reached his hand forward, offering it toToby.
“I’m Rufus, Alexander Kirby’s other son, but please don’t hold that against me.” He smiled as best he could through the scarred tissue on his face.
Toby’s mouth widened to match his eyes. Forgetting to reach out his hand to shake Rufus’s, he stood there dumbfounded. He was Mr. Kirby’s son?
Thatch lifted Toby’s hand for him and placed it in Rufus’s. “He’s glad to meet you, Rufus. Aren’t you, Toby? Honestly.” Thatch shook his head at Toby.
Coming out of his initial shock, Toby looked at Thatch. “How do you know he’s not evil like the rest of his family?”
“Let me answer that. Take a seat just in case you faint again,” instructed Rufus, pointing toward the beams. They all sat stiffly while Wesa warmed her friends with her fire hands.
“We’ll be safe here. No one will find us. Toby, I have already explained this to the others, but I shall explain this to you properly as you don’t know much about the magicians’ history, I assume.” Rufus spoke slowly and eloquently. He was clearly well educated. Toby couldn’t work out his age given all the scarring on his face.
“What happened to you?” said Toby, unable to control himself.
Thatch thumped him on the head with his hand.
“Ouch. What was that for?”
“Never mind his curiosity. It’s a fair question, and it is part of the story. You see, my father, Alexander Kirby, whom you’ve already had the pleasure of meeting, is not a kind man. But he’s not altogether a villain either. He’s a proud man.”
“How can you say that after what you just told us he did? He’s a maniac!” Thatch jumped to his feet and started pacing.
Toby’s curiosity was piqued. “Ignore him. He’s all bark and no bite. Tell me more.”
“Ten years ago, my father organized a series of bombs to be placed in the entrance to the Magicians’ Convention. Bombs that ended up killing and injuring a great deal of illusionists.”
Toby’s heart started bouncing inside his chest.
“I thought that another magician did that,” he said, trying to remember the magician’s name.
“You mean Strebor? He got the blame for it, and since he was one of the magicians who died in the explosions, no one can refute my father’s claim. He provided evidence Strebor was behind it, but I know it is false evidence he gave.”
“So what’s that got to do with me?” said Toby, grinding his teeth nervously.
“Toby, your parents were also involved.”
“My parents died in a train explosion. At least, that’s what I was told until today. But I don’t even know what to believe anymore. Or who to trust,” he said, looking at all of them as if they were potentially villains. “I certainly don’t know if I can trust you!”
“I can understand your hesitation. My father is not a nice man. But there is more you need to know. Your mother—please understand it’s difficult for me to tell you this.”
“What about my mother? ”
“Toby, your mother was in cahoots with my father. She was involved in planning the explosions.”
Toby felt sick. Not even fainting would be good enough to escape what he had just heard. His mind raced, and his pulse felt like it was about to stop. He wanted to run away. Run away from this whole
day. “No! That’s not true! My parents had nothing to do with this world. They’re not magic. I’m not magic. My mother loved my father. She loved me!”
Toby fell to the floor. His tears streaked down his face and dripped into the darkness.
“I know it’s hard, Toby, but you need to know the truth,” said Wesa.
“Toby, there’s more. You need to hear the rest,” said Thatch.
As the pressure inside Toby’s head intensified, he couldn’t decide whether to run away or stay and hear the rest. “Go on,” he said finally.
“Toby, he also killed my mother, his wife.” Rufus paused, swallowing hard. It was clear this was still a touchy subject for him to talk about. “I tried to save her, hence my predicament. I survived, and my mother did not. Worse still, my father allowed my mother to die. He arranged for her to be there on purpose.”
“And you think he’s not a villain!” cried Toby, punching the beam he sat on. His body shook with frustration.
“It is my belief that my father loved your mother. And failed to protect her. I found a letter he wrote to her that I think was never delivered. I think you ought to see it.”
Toby, still shaking, took the crumpled piece of paper from Rufus. The cursive writing was hard to make out through his tears, but he read it aloud nonetheless. His voice shook more than his hands as the full realization of the words hit him.
Dearest Agatha,
Everything is in place. The bombs are set to go off at exactly nine o’clock, right before the doors open. Suffice to say, Hilary knows nothing of this and will be exactly where we need her to be. My sweet, we have dreamed of being together. Now we will be.
Please read this carefully, my dearest. I have also planted some bombs in the mage entrances. I have done this as a diversion. You must not, under any circumstances, enter the convention this year.
Do you understand me, my love? You must not try to enter the convention through any of the doorways. It is far too dangerous. I will be in touch when it is all over. Pack your bags, prepare Toby, and I will come to collect you in one week’s time.