“What did you call this?” I asked and pointed at the brick wall picture.
“Blending,” Mara said, her words still clipped. What was up with that? Had she wanted me to fail? “You’re a blender. Any other questions?”
“Tons,” I said.
“Tough luck,” she said. “On to the next test.”
She put a plain sheet of paper on the mat in front of me, and then handed me the pen I had moved a few minutes before with my mind.
“Draw fifty or sixty dots on the paper. Spread them out.”
Easy enough. I drew sixty dots. Six rows of ten. When I looked up, Mara was holding her phone with a stopwatch app ready to go.
“Okay, this is the test for the kinney talent. Touch all the dots as fast as you can with a finger.”
Again, pretty straight forward stuff. I touched the dots.
“11.4 seconds,” Mara said. “Now close your eyes and visualize touching them twice as fast, and then twice as fast as that, and then twice as fast a third time. Then open your eyes and touch the dots as fast as possible. And be ready. This one will leave you wrung out.”
“So six seconds, then three seconds, then one and a half seconds?” I asked.
“It doesn’t have to be that exact, but yes.”
I closed my eyes. I relaxed. I concentrated. In my mind’s eye, I was wearing a red Flash outfit, and my hand blazed across those dots. I took it one further than Mara had said, because Flash could totally get it done in less than a second.
My eyes popped open, and I touched those dots as fast as possible. When done, I looked up in time to see Mara’s thumb slowly descending toward the stop button in the app. That was odd. The time on her app seemed to be ticking by in slow motion. Then everything clicked back to normal.
Thomas made a choking sound. Mara’s eyes were huge. She held up her phone.
0.74s
A yawn cracked my jaws. Mara hadn’t been joking. I was worn out.
Mara slapped a paper with a picture of a dog down on the mat in front of me. It was a close-up of its head. Probably a German shepherd. It had perky ears. She passed me the hand mirror.
“What was that last talent called again?” I asked.
“Kinney. You’re a kinney. If you’re also a shifter—”
“The Seventy-Seven,” Jordan’s voice cracked as he spoke.
“A seventy-seven?” I said.
“THE Seventy-Seven,” Mara said. “I guess there could be more than one at a time, but it’s very rare. The Seventy-Seven. All seven talents. There hasn’t been a Seventy-Seven since the Italian died back in ’83. We’ll see. Take a good hard look at that picture, then close your eyes and picture your ears becoming like the dog’s.”
“This one is just so weird,” I said.
“You think so?” Mara asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “Don’t get me wrong. It could make for a great Halloween costume.”
Mara shook her head. “You’re not thinking about the big picture again. You’re just focusing on the test itself. Watch.”
She shifted, blurred, and suddenly a brownish-golden eagle stood where Mara had sat.
“Whoa!” Thomas yelled as he scrambled backwards. His legs tangled and he sat down hard. If he wasn’t careful he was going to make a habit of falling over. I remained perfectly still, but I may have lost bladder control for a split second. At least the fright woke me back up.
The eagle, Mara, leapt into the air and beat powerful wings as it circled the room twice before landing on the pad opposite me. There was another moment of eye-wrenching oddness, and Mara sat across from me once again.
“You see?” Mara said. “It’s not like putting on a costume. It’s about changing all of you.”
“Joss,” Thomas said in a quiet, awed voice from where he sat, “you’ve got to learn to do that.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Like you said, Mara, I guess I was just thinking about the dog ears, not the whole thing. So if I’m a kin… what was that word?”
“Kinney,” Mara said. “As in, kinetic energy. The energy of motion.”
“Kinney,” I repeated. “So if I’m a kinney, it isn’t just about moving my hand really fast. I could be Flash for real.”
“Where do you think the idea of Flash came from?” Jordan asked.
“It will take a lot of practice to move your entire body that fast,” Mara said. “Or ghost your entire body. Or heal a huge wound. Or shift into an animal shape. Or whatever. But yes, that’s what we’re going to train you to do.”
“Let’s do this, then,” I said. “Let’s see if I’m the Seventy-Seven.”
Mara tapped the picture of the dog. I concentrated on the picture and focused in on the ears. I took in every detail. I pictured myself with those ears. It was strange. It didn’t feel like I was pretending. It felt like work. Hard work. I was so tired.
Thomas gasped.
“There will be no stopping us,” Jordan said in a low rumble under his breath. How had I heard him? Mara held up the little mirror. I only saw a flash of the impossible before my concentration shattered and the image was the normal me.
Mara looked at me, her eyes wide. “The Seventy-Seven.”
Chapter 7
THE PLAN
“COOL.” I STRETCHED. “The Seventy-Seven. What comes next?”
I was so very tired. Not zombified like Friday, but bone weary. And I didn’t feel like things were cool. When I was in fifth grade, someone had run a red light and hit our minivan. We’d all made it through okay, but I’d struggled with nightmares for a couple months. I kept seeing the car coming right for us. All this Seventy-Seven stuff made me feel like I was stuck in that moment right before impact.
“Thomas can break it down for you,” Jordan said. “Short version is we’re going to give a free class this summer. In return, you agree to spread the word next year in high school.”
“It’s sort of a cover,” Thomas said. “Sure, we get trained to be like ninjas or something, but you get trained as a Seven. A class within the class.” Thomas smiled and rubbed his hands. “And I score some serious money.”
“You need to get home, Joss,” Mara said as she gave Thomas a hard look. “All these tests wore you out. Like you just tried to sprint five miles. Sync up with Thomas tomorrow after you get home from church. If all goes well, we’ll see you on Tuesday.”
“Tuesday,” I said. “Wait. How do you know I go to church?”
“Go!” Mara stood up. She pulled me to my feet and marched me to the door with Thomas, who held a large mailing envelope. When had he gotten that?
“Thomas,” Mara said, “Get him home and make sure we have a class to teach, okay?”
“You bet, Mara.”
What, so now he was in tight with Mara? How did that happen? I didn’t have time to sort it out, because I was shuffled out the door to my bike. A minute later we were on the way back to our neighborhood.
“So the sleep thing,” Thomas said, “you getting tired all of a sudden, it’s the Seven stuff?”
“Yeah,” I said, “Mara said it has to do with the talents waking up. Something like that.”
“So the talents wake up and you go to sleep,” Thomas said.
I smirked. Then I swerved. How had I not seen that fire hydrant?
“Something like that,” I said. “She said I’ll get stronger with training. It’s just that today… it’s bad.”
We turned into our neighborhood.
“You know the really weird thing?” Thomas asked. “We’re riding our bikes talking about you being a freakin’ superhero like it’s normal.”
“I guess.” I grimaced. I felt overwhelmed, not heroic. “I’m pretty much clueless as to what comes next. What’s the plan?”
“What happens next is I make some money,” he said. “And I help provide a cover for you to receive training all summer long while learning some serious martial arts. It’s a win-win-win.”
“Break it down for me.”
“Okay. You need trai
ning, right?”
“Pretty sure I do,” I said. And a soda. Or maybe coffee.
“And your parents. They’re not going to sign up with the Guild to train you?”
“I don’t think so,” I said. “And I don’t want to ask to find out, cause once they’ve said no, it’s game over.”
“Exactly,” Thomas said. “So Jordan and Mara are going to offer a free class this summer. It’s supposedly to help them build the business next fall. They train a few of us with a crazy intense course. All morning, five days a week. We spread the word next fall at school. Show off what we’ve learned. That’s the story.”
“Who’s in this class?”
“I’m recruiting Tyler, Deion, and Arjeet. Maybe Frankie and Julius. The dojo is totally legit, and our parents can tour it if they want, watch the training, whatever. There’ll be some one-on-one time each day. That’s when you’ll get trained as a Seven. The rest of the time you’ll be trained with the rest of us.”
“And the money?” I asked.
“Right,” Thomas said. “I’m their inside guy. I can get the students they need for a cover. I know all the secrets. So they pay me a hundred bucks a week. Cash.”
“Wow!” I said.
“Like I said, it’s a win-win-win. You get trained to be all freaky cool, I get money, and on top of that I learn how to be a tough guy. Should help in high school, right?”
“Yeah it should. So when do we start?”
“Tuesday, 8:00 sharp,” he said. “Doesn’t give me much time to recruit, but I’ll get it done. I’ll sell them on the idea. Then we let them sell their parents on this great chance to work out all summer. That’s free. Once in a lifetime opportunity. Blah blah blah. Shouldn’t be a problem.”
We turned onto Appleton.
“So,” I said, “you’re going to tell the guys they should get up early every day to learn martial arts? That’s it?”
“No,” Thomas said. “I’m going to tell them they should get up early to learn martial arts from a hot chick. You can’t leave out the hot chick part, Joss. Really. You need to learn how to sell.”
"You are wise, Master," I said.
"Thank you, Grasshopper. I’ll hand you a flyer when we stop. Tell your parents they should come with you the first day to check out the place. Seriously. Push to have them go with you. It will make it seem totally legit.”
"Just that simple, huh?"
"Just that simple," Thomas said.
We pulled to a stop at the corner of Appleton and Chickadee Place. Thomas opened the mailing envelope and pulled out a flyer printed on thick, glossy paper. BATTLEHOOP SCHOOL OF MARTIAL ARTS SUMMER STARTER PROGRAM. There was some text describing the program with a professional, clean look, and a picture of Jordan flying through the air kicking a board.
“All right,” I said. “We’ll see if it works.”
When I got home, I snuck a cup of coffee and took a cat nap. I got my second wind in time for a family outing to Uncle Guido’s Italian Restaurant. The flyer for Battlehoop was tucked away in my back pocket. Once my parents were each well into a glass of wine, I pulled the flyer out and showed it to them.
“Thomas handed this to me,” I said, leaning forward so they’d hear me over the din of the restaurant. “Looks totally cool, and it’s free.”
“What is it?” Janey asked. She got up and walked over to stand behind my parents to look at the flyer.
“Huh,” Dad said. “Where’d Thomas hear about this?”
I pretended not to hear him and barreled forward. “Thomas says parents are encouraged to visit. Honestly, I really want to give it a try, but I want you guys to check it out for me. Do you think one of you could go with me on Tuesday morning?”
That was all it took. Mom and Dad discussed the details for a moment, and decided Mom would go with me the first day to make sure it was a real opportunity and not a sales pitch or something. Shocking. Thomas had been right. It had been simple.
“I want to go!” Janey said.
Uh oh.
“Uh, Janey,” I said, “I’m not sure it’s designed for twelve year olds.”
“I want to go!” she said. “Mom, say I can go with you.”
Mom smiled. So did Dad. This was a disaster.
“Tell you what, sweetie,” Mom said. “You’ll go the first day and we’ll see together if it’s a good opportunity for you.”
So much for simple.
We headed to the dollar theater after dinner. We split up because we couldn’t all agree on which movie to watch. I had no idea why Mom and Janey didn’t want to watch CROCOCANE, a riveting story about a hurricane full of crocodiles. They went to some movie about a little dog.
I managed to fit in ten hours of sleep between arriving home from the movie and getting up Sunday morning for church. I grabbed a shower, dressed, and headed downstairs. Breakfast felt incredibly weird, mainly because it was totally normal. How could life be so normal, when I could walk through walls? Well, at least poke my finger through walls. I looked down at my Fruity Circles and focused on one of the yellow rings of sugary goodness. I concentrated, and it slowly rotated in a circle. I cracked a smile.
The smile lasted up until the exact moment the toe of Janey’s shoe met my shin under the table.
“What the heck?” I glared at her, then looked around. Of course. Janey had waited for Mom and Dad to go back to their room.
“What are you grinning about?” Janey glared right back at me. “And why did you try to stop me from coming to the class?”
I calmed my mind, and concentrated on the sharp pain in my shin. I imagined it dissipating. Just like that it was gone. Until Janey kicked me in the shin again. Then it was back. And I felt tired.
“Don’t stare at me like a baboon,” she said.
“Kick me in the shin again,” I said, “and I will… OW!”
“Well, you said, kick me in the shin again. So I did.”
I concentrated, and the pain dissipated again. It seemed to be getting easier. Or maybe my shin was toughening up. I took no risks, though, and kept my feet well under my chair.
Maybe if I reasoned with her, she’d drop the idea of going to Battlehoop with us. “Janey, would you want me hanging out with your friends? Like, going to a movie with all of you?”
“Of course not. But this is totally different, and you know it.”
“No, I don’t know it.”
Janey’s eyebrows came together in a frown. “This isn’t like going to a movie. It’s a chance to learn something. Like, if just because I had a chance to learn the guitar, you weren’t allowed to.”
“But all my friends are going to be there.” I shook my head. All I needed was a repeat of the Christmas break incident when Janey had tagged along to the mall with me and Thomas. She’d spent the whole time telling Thomas embarrassing stories about me and trying to flirt with him. It had been both irritating and gross.
“So? It’s a free class, Joss. Just because your friends are going doesn’t mean you own the place.”
I shook my head in frustration, but didn’t bother answering her. She wasn’t going to give in. Hopefully, the class would be too intense and Mom wouldn’t let her stay. The last thing I needed was Janey hanging around while I was secretly trained as a Seven.
After church, I hid out in my room and called Thomas. He picked up immediately.
“You good?” Thomas asked.
“Yep,” I said. “My mom’s going with us Tuesday morning.”
“Good. That’s what I needed.”
“What for?”
“I’ll pass that along to the others so they can use it as ammo to help bring their parents around.”
“What about you?”
“Oh,” Thomas said. “I’m good. Mom just wanted to make sure at least one parent was going.”
“That’s great. One problem. Janey is going.”
“Huh. What’s the problem?”
“Janey?” I said. “My sister? She’s coming with us.”
; “Yeah, I heard that,” Thomas said. “What’s the issue?”
“I don’t know. Oh. Wait. Yes, I do. My little sister is going with us!”
“Whatever. That’s actually pretty cool. Good for her.”
Thomas didn’t have any brothers or sisters. Just him and his mom. She did great. Some sort of big-shot lawyer. Thomas was never shy about mentioning he wished he had someone else in the home while his mom worked long hours. He didn’t understand the burden of having a little sister.
“Just text me when you hear from the others,” I said.
“Will do.”
The first message came about an hour later.
Deion is in. His Mom is coming too
Unreal. Thomas was going to make it happen. We just needed a couple more. An hour later my phone buzzed. And buzzed again.
No go on Tyler. Doofus.
But we’ve got Arjeet. And Frankie
We are on!!!!!
I’m in the $$$
Deion’s house Tues 7:45. We bike over together
A tightness in my chest that I hadn’t even noticed loosened. I was going to be trained as a Seven. The tightness gave way to a lump of ice in my stomach. What was I getting myself into? And how much time did I have before this Mocker caught up with me?
Chapter 8
BATTLEHOOP
SUNDAY AFTERNOON CRAWLED by like a slug on a hot road. The clocks seemed to slow down. The anticipation as I waited to begin my training Tuesday morning almost killed me.
My family ate big lunches together after church, so Sunday evening was every man for himself. I scrounged up some crackers, reheated a hotdog that had been grilled the previous weekend, and found an apple in the refrigerator. I wasn’t sure why people always acted like cooking was such a big deal. I had no problems preparing my own meals.
After dinner, I decided to practice my talents. Mara had said practice would make me stronger, so I figured doing something, anything, was better than sitting around. I locked myself in my room and practiced ghosting. After an hour and a half, I headed to the bathroom to try it in the tile and glass of the shower stall, and to see what would happen if I ghosted in water. It was tiring work, but I improved fast. Within an hour, I could stick my arm into the wall between my bedroom and closet up to the elbow with a flicker of thought.
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