Mystics #1: The Seventh Sense

by Kim Richardson

  One of the men had dark skin and a face that showed no emotion, almost as if he were a wax figure, maybe he was a wax figure. The other man was younger with a pale face and dark eyes that never blinked—he reminded Zoey of an android. The only other person who showed an ounce of emotion was the woman. She looked bored. Her blond hair was cut square across her pointy chin, and she was dressed in a bold, patterned jacket that looked as if it had been made from old curtains.

  Zoey’s nerves danced. She smiled at each director as she was introduced, but only director Hicks returned her smile. She felt like she was standing in front of a prison parole board—and they weren’t keen on letting her out.

  “Pleased to meet you, Zoey,” said director Hicks, still smiling. “Welcome to the agency. Please sit down.”

  Zoey blushed. “Thank you,” she managed to say.

  She pulled out a chair and sat next to Agent Barnes.

  “So this is the Drifter?” said the youngest director. His raspy voice sounded as though he had smoked a million cigarettes. Zoey didn’t like that way he emphasized the word drifter. His pale face had wrinkled prematurely, and he looked much older than he probably was. He had dark hair with splashes of gray, dark eyes, and a sunken face that looked like he hadn’t eaten in months. His striped, gray suit was tailored to perfection.

  “She doesn’t look like much. She looks half-starved and dirty, like one of those street kids,” he said with disdain.

  Zoey disliked him immediately.

  “I don’t see how that’s relevant, director Martin,” said director Hicks.

  He turned his blue eyes to Zoey. “So, Zoey, Agent Barnes tells us that you are an orphan and that you have no idea who your real parents are. You were given to the St. John’s orphanage without any sort of identification, without any birth records. Is that correct?”

  “Yes, sir.” She saw the woman and director Martin exchange a dark look.

  “And how old are you?”

  “Just turned fourteen, sir—director, sir,” answered Zoey, and then she added, “They gave me the sixteenth of May as my birthday, but I don’t know my real one.”

  Director Hicks nodded and laced his fingers on the desk.

  “And you’ve been living in foster care this whole time, fighting off dangerous mystics on your own to stay alive. What’s even more remarkable to us is that for fourteen years you’ve managed to keep the Mutes from discovering you—discovering what you are to be more precise. For someone so young, that’s quite extraordinary.”

  “She’s an extraordinary girl,” said Agent Barnes, and he winked at Zoey.

  She had to force herself not to smile.

  “I did what I could to survive,” she said, feeling her voice stronger. “Until now, well, from what I’ve seen here, I didn’t even know that there were friendly monsters—”

  “We prefer the term mystics, if you please,” interrupted the woman, spite coated her voice.

  “The M-word is so very discourteous to our friends and colleagues. It is forbidden in these parts, and if you wish to remain here with us, you best remember that.” She stared at Zoey accusingly.

  Zoey shrank back. Why were these people so displeased with her? They didn’t even know her.

  “Let’s give her a chance to learn our ways, director Campbell,” said the man with the dark skin. “She has only just arrived. There will be time for her to learn the laws of her people.”

  Director Campbell continued to eye Zoey suspiciously. “If you say so, director Johnson. Clearly she has lots to catch up on. Are we certain having her here is the right decision? Perhaps one of the Sevenths’ foster families will take her in? It might be less of a shock for her to live with them. It might make her transition to our world a little easier.”

  “She is one of us. She belongs here,” said director Hicks impatiently. “From what Agent Barnes has told us, she could do well in the operative’s program, but it is too early to determine her fate.”

  He turned to Zoey. “For all our sakes, and yours, it would be best to put you on a trial basis for now and see how well you do. Would that suit you?”

  Zoey felt her spirits rise. “Yes. Yes it would.”

  “But she’s a Drifter!” Director Martin raised his voice. “She’s had no knowledge of our people or our ways since today—she’s practically a Mute! Without basic education and training, she’ll be years behind the other operatives. It’ll take her forever to catch up, if by a miracle she is able to manage. But even then, is it fair to introduce her to the program so early? And what about the other operatives? Will she drag them down? We’ve never had a Drifter join the program before. I say she should be sent to one of our foster families—”

  “She can manage,” interrupted Agent Barnes, his voice rising as well. “All Seventh children are schooled in our ways and are taught to fight, why shouldn’t she learn to do so as well? She’s already fought a Skin demon on her own, and many others like it. She’s ready. She should be with the other kids. It makes no sense to put her back into a foster home.”

  “Will you vouch for her then?” said Agent Johnson, his voice even.

  Agent Barnes gave a nod of his head. “I will. Little Red here’s got a lot of spunk. She has street smarts, and she’s proven that she’s capable all on her own. I think she’ll be a great addition to the program—the other kids could learn from her. I would be glad to have her on my team.”

  Zoey stared at Agent Barnes. Her heart swelled with respect and admiration for him. No one had ever spoken so highly about her before. She wanted to hug him.

  “So it’s settled then,” said director Hicks.

  He smiled warmly at Zoey. “Zoey St. John will join the operative program on a trial basis. She can board with the out-of-towners at the Wander Inn. All in favor?” He raised his right hand and looked to the other directors.

  Slowly, director Johnson and director Campbell raised their hands, but director Martin’s hands stayed flat on the desk. He glowered at Zoey.

  “Majority wins,” said director Hicks. “Welcome to your new home, Zoey St. John. I hope you’ll enjoy it here and make lots of new friends.”

  Zoey sat silently for a moment.

  “Really?” she said finally, trying hard to hide her excitement, although she wanted to jump up from her chair and start dancing.

  “Really,” said director Hicks.

  Zoey grinned widely. “Thank you, thank you very much. You won’t be sorry, I promise.” And when she looked over to Agent Barnes, he gave her two thumbs up and looked very pleased with himself.

  “Agent Barnes, please escort our newest member to the Wander Inn. They have already prepared her room.”

  “Right away, director Hicks.”

  After Agent Barnes had acknowledged the last of the directors with a nod of his head, he steered Zoey out the door—but not before she heard director Hicks call out, “Good luck, Zoey!”

  As they made their way down the hall, Agent Barnes laughed. “Thought you were going to faint in there—you were as white as a sheet.”

  Zoey felt a weight leave her as she stepped out the room. “I was more worried about being sick than fainting. I don’t think director Martin would have liked that very much.”

  Agent Barnes laughed. “No, I don’t think he would have.”

  The outcome was better than Zoey had expected, and her memories of life with foster mother number 28 began to fade. But even as she walked back she was still worried by the uncertainty in the faces of some of the directors. It was almost as if they felt she wasn’t good enough to be there—as if somehow her presence would taint the rest of the Sevenths like a bad apple. Being a Drifter, it seemed, was very similar to being an orphan.

  Tainted by association.

  They descended the stairs, passed the lobby, and went out the front doors. Zoey followed Agent Barnes across a smooth lawn. The moon shone down and cast long and looming shadows.

  About fifteen yards behind the agency stood a white stone building
the size of a large cottage. It had black shutters and a welcoming wraparound porch. Lights shone from the inside, and a hand-painted wooden sign on the front post said The Wander Inn.

  Agent Barnes walked up to the front door. “This is where the out-of-town Sevenths stay when they’re visiting. It’s your new home. It’s not as fancy as a hotel, but it’s real cozy. Just what an inn should be.”

  Zoey followed him in.

  They walked into a living area where a man reading a book sat comfortably in a large chair facing a fireplace. Two sofas faced each other on a plush, deep red Persian carpet, and the room had a cozy feel. A large staircase led to the upper floor, and on the opposite side was a dining area with a variety of small wood tables and chairs. It reminded Zoey of the little café shops she used to go to back in the city. The smell of cooked food brought water to Zoey’s mouth. Only then did she realize how hungry she was.

  “Hello again, Agent Barnes,” said a voice.

  Zoey looked up. A six-foot tall woman with shark-gray skin and long, silky white hair came towards them. She was so thin, just skin and bones, that she looked as though she was drowning in her clothes. While she had odd, cat-like, yellow eyes, what made Zoey flinch were the woman’s four arms. Zoey’s skin tingled with a warm rush, similar to what she had felt in the main hall when the mystics had first stepped out of the mirrors, but the sensation was subtle and vanished as fast as it had appeared.

  “Hi, Aria,” said Agent Barnes. “I’d like you to meet your newest boarder, Zoey St. John. Zoey, this is Aria, the owner of the Wander Inn.”

  Aria held out one of her right hands. “Hello, Zoey. Everyone here calls me Aria.”

  Zoey shook one of her hands a little awkwardly, trying not to stare at the woman’s other arms, which hung at her sides like rubber hoses.

  “Thanks for having me,” mumbled Zoey, not knowing what else to say.

  “I’m glad to finally meet you,” said Aria. “Everyone’s been talking about you tonight. We’re all very excited to have you here with us, and I’m very happy to have you stay here with me. The hive being such a small community and all—you’re like the newest celebrity.”

  She stood with her four hands on her hips and looked grim. “You haven’t eaten in a while. Let me fetch you something to eat. I’ll bring it up. Agent Barnes, could you show Zoey to her room—top of the stairs, it’s the last one on the left.”

  “Sure thing, Aria. Come along, Little Red.”

  Zoey watched Aria disappear through the dining room. She then climbed the stairs behind Agent Barnes, who guided her to her room. A single bed was angled under a large window with soft white linen curtains, and a large dresser stood beside a closet on the opposite wall. Another door stood ajar and revealed a shower, a toilet, and a pedestal sink—her own master bathroom. She felt like she was staying in a fancy hotel.

  “This is my room?”

  Agent Barnes lost his smile. “What’s wrong with it? You don’t like it?”

  Zoey’s face lit up. She had never had a room to herself before. She’d always had to share smelly old mattresses and stained sheets with the other foster kids. This room smelled like lavender and lilacs. She had never imagined a bedroom could be so wonderful. And it was hers. “No, it’s perfect. I love it. I couldn’t have imagined a more beautiful room. It’s really amazing.”

  “Good.” Agent Barnes turned towards the door. “After you eat, you go straight to bed. You can do your exploring tomorrow. Tonight you’ll need all the rest you can get.”

  Zoey frowned, tearing her eyes away from her new room.

  “Why’s that?”

  “You have a big day tomorrow,” he said. “Tomorrow, you start your training.”

  Chapter 5

  The Sevenths’ Academy

  Zoey hardly slept a wink. She had kept her exploring to the confines of her bedroom. She tried on all her new clothes which, for the first time in her life, were miraculously her size. She jumped on her bed and flushed the toilet, just because she could. The excitement of the day still rushed through her. After a quick shower, she had fallen asleep in her bathrobe. She awoke to a soft tap on her bedroom door the next morning.

  “Time to get up, Zoey, breakfast is ready.” Zoey recognized Aria’s voice through the door. Her seventh sense reacted with the subtlest of warm prickles on her skin, as though she somehow recognized that the mystic was not a threat.

  “Come down when you’re ready.”

  “Okay,” mumbled Zoey, “I’m getting up.”

  She swung her legs off the bed, her eyes puffy with lack of sleep. She felt a pain in her arm from sleeping in an awkward position, but she didn’t let it dampen her spirits. At first when she woke up, she had thought it had all been a dream, that the hive and the agency weren’t real. But now—sitting on her lovely bed at the Wander Inn and staring out at the rolling hills outside her window—and not at a concrete jungle—she knew it was all real.

  She pulled on a new pair of jeans, T-shirt, laced up her sneakers, and brushed her hair into a static mess of a ponytail. She closed her bedroom door and went downstairs.

  She was greeted by the same man she had seen the night before. He was sitting in the living area, and another man in his thirties sat by himself. Zoey sat at a table near the windows. As soon as she had taken her seat, Aria rushed towards her, holding four plates piled with food.

  “Nothing like a good breakfast to start the day.”

  She placed the plates carefully in front of Zoey and watched her eagerly with her yellow, cat-like eyes.

  “Hope you like a big breakfast. I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I made a little of everything. I’m afraid I got a little carried away. But please don’t feel pressured to eat everything, I don’t want to make you sick on your very first day.”

  Aria’s yellow eyes and four arms still made Zoey a little uncomfortable, and she did her best not to stare. And yet, there was something comforting about the gray-skinned woman. Like a real aunt or close relative, Aria made Zoey feel safe.

  Zoey had never seen so much food so early in the morning. It was a breakfast buffet for her alone, and she was ravenous.

  “This is great. It smells amazing. Thank you, Aria.”

  Aria beamed and wiped her four hands on her apron. “Well, let me know if you want anything else. I’ll go and fetch you a nice big glass of orange juice. Be right back.”

  There was bacon, scrambled and poached eggs, eggs benedict, pancakes, French toast, potatoes, sausages, fruits, breads, oatmeal, three different types of cereal, and baked beans. She had two servings of everything and washed it all down with a giant glass of orange juice. It was the most delicious breakfast Zoey had ever eaten. Clearly Aria was a master chef. She burped when she had finished, and Aria giggled.

  “Morning, Aria.”

  Tristan strolled through the dining room. Zoey’s eyes met his for a second, and he looked down with a widening smile.

  She wiped the crumbs from her face. She realized that the enormous pile of plates in front of her made her look like a pig, and that he had probably heard her burp, too.

  Then another series of goose bumps riddled her skin, but she had no idea what to make of them. Was it because Aria was near? She would have to control her seventh sense. She tried to calm down, and the feelings slowly disappeared.

  Aria stacked the empty plates. “Hi, Tristan. Can I get you anything? There are still lots in the kitchen. A growing boy like you needs to eat.”

  “Smells delicious, but I’ve already eaten, thanks. I’m here to pick up Zoey for her first lesson.”

  He stared at the leftovers on the table and the crumbs on her shirt. “Someone’s been busy. Did you eat all of it?”

  “What?” said Zoey, wiping her shirt. “I have to catch up on fourteen years of malnourishment. Thought I’d get an early start.”

  “I can see that,” laughed Tristan.

  “I couldn’t help myself,” said Zoey as she sipped the last of her orange juice and smacked he
r lips loudly. “It was the best food I’ve ever tasted in my entire life.”

  Aria beamed.

  “Well, our first class starts in fifteen minutes,” said Tristan.

  “We better get going. Agent Ward is really strict about punctuality. She’s always giving extra duties for being late. I think she secretly enjoys it. You don’t want to start off on her bad side—trust me.”

  She swallowed. “Right—the operative’s program—Okay. Well, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” She knew she didn’t sound very convincing, even to herself, and she doubted Tristan bought it.

  Leaving the Wander Inn behind, Zoey followed Tristan across the grounds and into the agency. Throngs of humans and mystics stepped out of the mirrors, and even though she had seen them the night before, she still jumped when a hairy man with four legs scurried out of a ruby red mirror on her right.

  Tristan chuckled, and she pushed him playfully.

  As they passed the front desk, Zoey could see that Mrs. Andrews and an older woman with short, white hair were in deep conversation. The two women looked up as they neared, and Mrs. Andrews waved desperately to get Zoey’s attention. But Zoey pretended not to see them and kept moving. Mrs. Andrews probably only wanted to boast to her friend that she knew the Drifter. Besides, Zoey suspected that Mrs. Andrews was only going to say something very rude to her, so it was best to avoid them all together.

  She let out a shaky breath and inhaled deeply. She tried to breathe normally, but she could tell she was on the verge of hyperventilating. Why was she so panicked? She was as tough as they came. But even as she tried to convince herself so, it only seemed to increase her nerves. She had to force herself to think of something else.

  “So, do you have a girlfriend or something?” she blurted out. She regretted it as soon as she said it. She felt stupid and forward, but the words were already out there.

  Tristan’s face darkened to a deep shade of burgundy, and he looked embarrassed. Zoey felt even more uncomfortable. Great, now he thought she was a freak. Her ears burned, and she wanted to kick herself for being so dumb. How could she say something like that?