The Power Within

by H. K. Varian

  “I had a strong feeling that Jai was also a naga, but I came into my powers later than most,” Ankur explained. “I was nearly fifteen before they awakened. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect Jai’s powers to show themselves so soon. He’s just eleven.”

  “That took us all by surprise,” Jiichan said.

  “After what happened . . .”

  “The flood in Middletown?” Fiona said.

  Ankur nodded. “He didn’t know what was happening. He didn’t know how to control the raw power. He was scared—so scared—and he told no one what was happening. His fear grew and grew, until it manifested into the terrible flood. It was my fault. If I’d been paying attention, if I’d seen the signs . . .”

  Mack thought back to the news coverage he’d seen about the Middletown flood. A dozen families had lost their homes.

  “Jai must have been devastated,” Fiona said. “How did he react?”

  “Jai is a good boy,” Ankur said. “He has a good heart. After the flood . . . He blamed himself, and there was not a thing I could say or do that would ease his guilt. It consumed him; I watched my boy draw within himself. I tried to begin his Changer training, but he was uninterested. He thought if he ignored his powers, they would go away. And strangely enough—”

  “His powers disappeared?” Mack interrupted.

  “Not at all,” Ankur said. “But he was suddenly able to exert complete control over them.”

  “Did this arouse your suspicions?” asked Jiichan.

  “Perhaps it should’ve,” Ankur admitted. “But I already knew that Jai was an unusual Changer. I thought that rapid advancements in his powers might be something to expect. And he seemed happy again. Calm. Like he had everything figured out. It was . . . It was a welcome change, after all we’d been through. I didn’t want to question it.”

  “What happened next?” asked Fiona.

  Ankur ran a hand through his hair anxiously, gluing his eyes to the floor. “He didn’t come home,” he replied.

  “Do you have a photo of Jai?” Fiona asked. “Something recent, like from right before he disappeared?”

  “I do,” Ankur replied as he reached into his shirt pocket for his phone. “I took these the night before he vanished. See? You see how happy he looks? Content.”

  Fiona took the phone and studied the screen. Suddenly, all the color drained from her face, as if she’d seen a ghost . . .

  Or something even worse.

  Chapter 7

  Gone

  Fiona didn’t want to alarm anyone. She wasn’t the type to jump to conclusions—not about something as serious as this. But her hands were trembling, ever so slightly, and her heart was pounding. Because what she’d seen in that photo—something small, something most people never would’ve noticed—had filled her with a terrible sense of foreboding. Fiona had never met Jai; she had never even seen his picture before, but there was something in the photo that was immediately recognizable to her: Jai was wearing the same imprinted leather wristband that Darren had on in Changers class.

  And Darren did so great today, Fiona thought, her mind whirling. Just like Ankur said that Jai’s powers were suddenly under control.

  It couldn’t be a coincidence.

  Or could it?

  A small part of Fiona was tempted to tell everybody her theory, right then and there. Why not let Mr. Kimura figure out what to do next? But if she was wrong—if she caused a whole lot of trouble over a whole lot of nothing—or worse, if she got Ankur’s hopes up for no reason . . .

  Fiona shook her head, just a little. I’ve got to be certain, she thought. One hundred percent, no-doubt-about-it certain.

  “Ankur, could I have copies of these photos?” she asked, scrolling through the others and hoping she sounded normal. She glanced from face to face. If anyone in the room had noticed her unease, they weren’t showing it.

  “Yes, of course,” he said. “You can go ahead and send them to yourself, if you want.”

  Fiona tapped at the screen until she had texted herself three different photos of Jai. In each one, the leather wristband was clearly displayed. As soon as she could see Darren’s wristband in comparison to the one Jai was wearing in the photos, she would know for sure.

  And then, Fiona hoped, she would know what to do next.

  Somehow, Fiona managed to avoid spilling all the details of her theory during the drive back to Willow Cove. But by the time they approached her house, she was about to burst with the secret.

  “Mack,” she said. “Do you want to study together for our math test?”

  “Our math test?” Mack repeated, looking confused.

  Fiona tried not to groan in frustration. “Yes,” she said, very clearly. “Our math test tomorrow. We can study together now. You could even stay for dinner, I’m sure. If you want.”

  Mack still looked clueless, so Fiona gave his ankle a swift kick.

  “Oh!” he said suddenly. “Right! That math test. I forgot. Jiichan, do you mind if I go over to Fiona’s house to study?”

  From the front seat, Mr. Kimura chuckled. “If you forgot you even had an exam, I think studying with Fiona is an excellent idea,” he said. “Call me when you are finished, and I’ll come to pick you up.”

  “Thanks, Jiichan,” Mack said as he and Fiona climbed out of the car. As his grandfather drove away, Mack turned to Fiona. “This better be good,” he said, leaning over to rub his ankle, “because that hurt!”

  “Sorry,” Fiona murmured. “I didn’t know how else to get your attention. Listen, I think I found a big clue.”

  Mack looked intrigued. “Since we met with Ankur?” he asked.

  “Actually, during,” Fiona corrected him. She held up her phone so he could see one of the photos of Jai.

  Mack stared at the screen for several seconds. “Okay, what am I missing?” he finally asked.

  “The wristband,” Fiona replied at once. “Check it out! I think it’s identical to the one Darren was wearing in class today!”

  A skeptical frown crossed Mack’s face. “Are you sure?” he asked, zooming in on the photo. “It’s similar . . . I think. To be honest, I didn’t get a really good look at Darren’s wristband. It was leather, right?”

  “Yes,” Fiona said. “With the same pattern imprinted on it.”

  Mack continued to examine the photo. “Maybe,” he said slowly. Then he gave Fiona her phone. “But I’m not totally convinced. Leather accessories are really popular. A lot of people wear them. Even me.”

  Mack reached under the collar of his shirt to pull out his fox-tooth necklace, a gift from his grandfather that hung on a sturdy leather cord around his neck.

  “They probably even got their wristbands from the same store,” Mack continued. “It’s not like those things are custom-made.”

  Fiona shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she said. “And the stories match up. Ankur said that Jai got his powers mysteriously under control right before he disappeared. And look at how Darren aced practice today—he was incredible! Like a complete and total reversal from yesterday and the day before!”

  “Yeah,” Mack admitted. “That was . . . unexpected.”

  “I don’t know how to explain it, but I think there’s a pattern here,” Fiona said as she started to pace back and forth in the driveway. “Like . . . imagine this: A group of warlocks who are targeting Changer kids having trouble controlling their powers. Somehow, they slip them a leather wristband that . . . that . . .”

  “What?” Mack asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Fiona said. “Maybe it gives them a false sense of confidence. Maybe it controls their abilities for them. Maybe it’s a tracking device. The thing is, I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if the other kids who disappeared were also wearing a leather wristband right before they vanished.”

  “Why don’t we tell Jiichan and Ms. Therian your theory?” Mack suggested. “Maybe they’ll be able to fill in the blanks for us.”

  “Yeah, I guess we should do that,” Fiona
said. “But we have to reach Darren first. At the very least he needs to take that wristband off before something happens to him!”

  With flying fingers, Fiona called Darren and then put her phone on speaker. One ring, two rings, three—and then, to her relief, Darren’s voice crackled over her phone.

  “Hey, Fiona, what’s up?”

  “Darren,” she began, skipping all pleasantries. “That leather wristband you were wearing today—where did you get it?”

  “My wristband?” Darren said. “My brother gave it to me.”

  Mack caught Fiona’s eye and mouthed, Told you so, but a nagging, insistent feeling made her press on.

  “I know this might sound weird, but would you mind if Mack and I came over to take a look at it?” she asked.

  “You want to see my wristband?” Darren asked, sounding confused. “Yeah, that’s fine, I guess. But I’m not home right now. Football practice.”

  “Oh, right,” replied Fiona. “Well, how about after?”

  “Sure, if it’s so important to you,” Darren said. “I’ll text you when I get home, and you can come over.”

  “When will that be?” Fiona asked.

  “Like, fifteen minutes,” Darren said. “Listen, I have to go before Coach catches me on the phone and makes me run drills for the rest of the week. I’ll text you soon.”

  And with that, he hung up.

  Fiona and Mack exchanged a long look.

  “He thinks I’m crazy,” she said.

  “I wouldn’t worry about it,” Mack told her. “Better safe than sorry, right? We’ll head over to Darren’s in a little bit, check out the wristband. When we see it in person, it will probably be completely different from the one Jai had.”

  “I hope so,” Fiona said, but she didn’t sound convinced. And she couldn’t seem to stop pacing, even after she and Mack went inside to start their homework. Her phone was sitting right there on the table, but the text she was waiting for never arrived.

  “It’s been a half hour!” she exclaimed impatiently. “Why hasn’t he texted?”

  Mack shrugged. “Maybe practice ran long,” he replied. “Maybe he’s still changing out of his gear. Maybe he forgot.”

  Fiona shook her head. “I have a bad feeling,” she said. “I’m going to text him.” She typed as fast as she could:

  Darren—All done?

  Then they waited. And waited. An agonizing ten minutes passed before Fiona finally grabbed her coat.

  “What are you doing?” asked Mack.

  “I’m going over to Darren’s house,” she replied. “Either he’ll be there, or we’ll be waiting for him when he finally gets home. I can’t just sit around here worrying like this.”

  “Okay,” Mack replied. “Let’s go.”

  Fiona told her father that she and Mack were going for a quick ride and then grabbed her bike from the shed. Mack borrowed her father’s bike. Then they rode through Willow Cove as the sun began to set and one by one, the streetlights flickered on. The unsteady buzz as they first illuminated reminded Fiona of the trouble Darren experienced with his powers—until he’d suddenly shown up with that unusual wristband.

  She pedaled faster.

  As Fiona and Mack turned the corner on to Darren’s street, they saw even more lights. But these lights were not the steady, golden glow of the streetlights; they were red and blue, flashing in a rapid pattern. They were warning lights.

  Police lights.

  “Oh no,” Fiona said breathlessly as she saw the police car parked in Darren’s driveway. “No, no, no.”

  “Come on,” Mack urged her, a frightened look in his eyes.

  They dropped the bikes onto the sidewalk and ran up the driveway, past the patrol car where one of the officers was on the radio. “Yeah, probably a runaway. Problems at home. You know the type,” he was saying.

  “A runaway”? “Problems at home”? Fiona wondered. There was no way the officer could be talking about Darren—he didn’t even know him. But before she could interrupt, another officer approached them.

  “Hey, kids,” she began.

  Just then, Darren’s mom ran out of the house. “Fiona! Mack!” she cried. “Have you seen Darren? Is he with you?”

  “No, he isn’t,” Fiona replied. “He— We were supposed to meet him here. Like an hour ago. You mean he’s not here?”

  Mrs. Smith’s whole face crumpled up as she shook her head. “No,” she said, choking on a sob. “He never made it home.”

  Chapter 8

  The Missing Changers

  Darren wasn’t sure where he was. He wasn’t even sure whether or not he was awake. It was like a third state, somewhere in−between, where everything was filtered through a hazy glow: sound and sight; touch, even. A sludgy weakness oozed through his body, making him feel heavy and dull. Darren was aware of all this, but the funny thing was that he didn’t really care. Everything was fine. It was all fine. Maybe he should sleep a little longer. That would be fine too.

  But something inside him—some small, ferocious spark—didn’t want to do that.

  Open your eyes, it hissed. Open your eyes.

  Darren didn’t see the point. Besides, his eyelids felt as scratchy as sandpaper. That small, insistent voice wouldn’t quit, however; not until he forced his eyes open, blinked a few times, and waited for everything to come into focus. He was in a strange room, a library of sorts, with built-in bookshelves that held thousands of books. The books weren’t the strange part, though. No, it was the tall pedestal in the center of the room—marble streaked with steely gray veins—that made Darren feel cold all over, despite the roaring fire in the fireplace.

  Now, move your arms, the voice inside told him. Move your legs.

  Darren tried. Failed.

  What . . . , he wondered as the power of thought slowly returned to him. He looked down, and that’s when he realized that he was tied up. Heavy ropes as thick as his wrist had him bound to a wooden chair.

  No way, Darren thought as that spark inside him flared, bolder and brighter this time. He strained against the ropes, but they wouldn’t budge. That wasn’t a problem, though. He would just transform, or blast his way out with a blazing bolt of lightning.

  But nothing happened.

  Darren tried—again and again and again—but it was almost as if his powers were gone. Completely, totally, and utterly gone.

  A thin film of sweat formed across Darren’s forehead as he glanced around the room. That’s when he noticed at least three other chairs arranged in a circle around the pedestal. Each chair had a motionless kid tied to it. Perhaps most disturbing, the kids were all breathing with the same slow, steady motion: in and out, in and out, as if even that was being controlled for them.

  “Pssst.”

  The whisper was so faint that at first Darren wondered if he had imagined it. He turned his head to the left and noticed that another boy next to him was awake—and he was staring at Darren.

  “Hey!” Darren said. “What— Who—”

  “Don’t struggle. It’ll just make things worse.”

  “Where are we? Who are you?”

  “I don’t know—I woke up here too. I’m Jai,” the boy said.

  Jai.

  Darren sucked in his breath sharply. He’d found Jai! He had no idea how he’d done it. Actually, he had no idea how a lot of things had come to pass. But here was Jai, the missing boy whom they’d been searching for.

  Darren’s entire body went rigid with tension.

  Jai. The missing boy.

  If Darren was with him, did that mean that he was missing too?

  Darren’s mouth was very dry, but he finally managed to ask, “What’s going on?”

  “I’m not sure,” Jai whispered back. “But I think it’s for a spell.”

  “A spell?” Darren repeated, trying to understand. If only his brain didn’t feel so foggy and cluttered.

  “We’re all Changers,” Jai whispered back. “I mean, you are one, right?”

  “Yeah,” r
eplied Darren.

  “I think they needed to gather all the elements,” Jai said. “That much I could figure out. See, I’m water, and that girl on my other side is a phoenix, so she has fire. The other girl—she’s been knocked out for a while—but the phoenix said she’s a púca, so earth. And that guy across from you? He’s a tengu, a bird with power over wind. What are you?”

  “Lightning,” Darren said, feeling a little sick.

  Jai nodded knowingly. “Of course. Energy to bring the elements together.”

  “But what do they want from us?” Darren asked.

  “I don’t know,” Jai replied. “Every time I start asking questions, they knock me out again.”

  “Is that what happened to them?” Darren said, nodding toward the other kids, who were all still breathing in perfect, unsettling unison.

  Jai shook his head. “No. It was worse. They tried to escape.”

  Suddenly, Jai’s shoulders stiffened, and even in the dimly lit room, Darren could see the fear flash through his eyes. “They’re coming,” he murmured. “Be careful!”

  Darren sat very still. Then he heard it too: steady, even footsteps, growing louder. Coming closer.

  Five witches and warlocks entered the room then; each one positioned him- or herself behind a chair. Darren tried to twist around to see who was standing behind him, but a swift, hard kick to his chair jolted his head so he was facing forward.

  “Don’t move,” a deep voice growled. “And keep your mouth shut.”

  A heavy silence filled the room, thick with anticipation and fear.

  The double doors to the library creaked loudly on their hinges, and a tall man who was impossibly thin glided into the room. In his arms he carried a bundle, something draped in gold velvet that cast an otherworldly gleam on his face. It wasn’t quite a smile that crossed his lips, but something far more sinister—a look of triumph.

  The warlock behind Darren’s chair moved to meet the strange man.

  “We’ve found the last youngling, as instructed, Jasper,” said the warlock.

  “Then we must make haste. The First Four will be hunting for him even as we speak.”