by H. K. Varian
With great care, as though carrying a newborn baby, Jasper brought the bundle across the room and placed it atop the pedestal. Then he pulled a piece of black chalk from his pocket and began to draw a series of symbols on the floor around the pedestal. The symbols looked familiar to Darren, and it took a moment, but he soon realized that they had formed a pattern of interlocking circles that was remarkably similar to the design on his wristband.
I have to get out of here, Darren thought, panic rising in his chest. He struggled against the ropes, but the warlock behind him grabbed his shoulders and held tight.
When Jasper finished the markings, he stepped up to the pedestal and removed the velvet cloth to reveal the Horn of Power. Darren recognized it at once. The sight of it filled him with dread, even though he could still see the long, ugly crack Mack had made in it during their first battle with Auden Ironbound. Jasper’s long, thin fingers traced the crack, making it glow with cold light.
They’re trying to fix it, Darren thought suddenly. He had to escape—but how?
Just then, Jasper began muttering words in a language that Darren had never heard before. Darren’s wristband began to glow, emitting a beam of golden light. He glanced wildly around the room, only to have his worst suspicions confirmed: Each Changer had the same wristband, and each wristband had begun to glow.
It wasn’t from Ray at all, Darren realized. He’d never felt so stupid in his entire life. There he was, desperate for a sign that his family would be okay—that everything would be okay—that he had convinced himself that Ray had reached out to him. But why would Ray have left the wristband in secret? No note? No text? Now that Darren took the time to consider it, it didn’t make sense.
Wanting and wishing doesn’t make something real, Darren thought bitterly, longing to rip the cursed band off his wrist and throw it into the fireplace, where the flames had begun to burn a supernatural green. It had been a trap all along, and Darren had fallen right into it.
I’ve let everyone down, he thought miserably. Ms. Therian and Mr. Kimura and Sefu and Yara and Mack and Gabriella and Fiona. Fiona. She tried to warn me, she was worried, but I didn’t listen.
Darren’s breath caught in his throat, ragged and uneven. And now they’ll be at risk, he thought. The horn will be repaired, and all the Changers in the world will be under Auden Ironbound’s command.
Darren’s wrist was hurting. Hurting bad. The wristband was vibrating, and Darren could feel his bones trembling along with it. Suddenly, a tremulous bolt of lightning burst from the wristband. It crackled across the room until it made contact with the pedestal. It was a puny bolt, but as the pain in Darren’s bones increased, so did the bolt’s strength. By his side, he could see the wristband forcing Jai to conjure water as well, and across from him, a torrent of wind was emanating from the tengu. That’s when Darren realized that the wristband was pulling all their powers from them—and using them for the worst evil of all.
The spark in Darren roared into a blazing fire. It burned away his fear, his sadness, his shame, and his regret, leaving only one emotion intact: a deep and pure sense of purpose. His lightning was his own; it belonged to him, and there was no way he was going to let Auden Ironbound’s henchmen use it to hurt his friends.
But not even Darren could’ve predicted what happened next.
Sparks of energy exploded from the wristband, tearing it in two and sending a massive bolt of lightning—Darren’s lightning, made by him, controlled by him—straight into the air. It destroyed the ropes that bound him, blasted the ceiling off the library, and shot straight into the sky. On the floor, the marble pedestal cracked in half.
Through the gaping hole above, Darren saw the stars. They looked so close, and brighter than ever—
Then everything went dark.
Chapter 9
Battle at Elmbridge
The tea had grown cold; food sat on the table, untouched. The First Four were in the kitchen at Mack’s house, talking in low voices as they tried to figure out a plan. It was getting late, but Fiona was only vaguely aware of the time. Sitting on the living room floor with The Compendium on her lap, she focused all her attention on searching for information about Darren’s mysterious disappearance. Fiona didn’t know what she was looking for, exactly, but The Compendium had the answers to just about everything—even to questions that had not yet been asked.
“I can’t even read this,” Mack complained from across the room as he stared at a stack of yellowed parchment pages. “I mean, what is this, invisible ink? I can barely see anything here.”
“It might be,” Fiona said thoughtfully. “I saw something about a potion for ink that could only be read by the Changer who created it.”
“Well, that seems pretty pointless,” Mack replied.
“Hang on,” Fiona said abruptly.
“Did you find something?” asked Gabriella.
Fiona frowned in concentration as she scanned the page. “Maybe,” she said. “Listen to this. ‘The Circlet of Subjugation. It is not their appearance that impresses so much as what these binding ties can accomplish: the wholesale harnessing of another Changer’s powers, whether or not he or she wills it. Indeed, their unassuming appearance has played an important role in the defeat of many unsuspecting Changers. Though rare, some Changers have been able to overcome and break the Circlet through an intense burst of power.’ ”
“The wristband?” Mack guessed.
“It’s possible,” Fiona replied. “I wish there was a description of them—or a drawing, or even info about how they’re formed.”
“Dark magic, I bet,” Gabriella said, wrapping her arms around herself.
“Jiichan and the others might know more about them,” Mack suggested. He stood up and started walking toward the kitchen.
But he never made it.
At that moment the entire house began to shake.
An earthquake, Fiona thought, pressing The Compendium to her chest as if to protect it. But even as those words formed in her mind, she knew how wrong they were. This was no earthquake. There was something far more powerful behind it. Fiona squeezed her eyes shut tight, as if to see with another sense. Suddenly, she, Mack, and Gabriella cried out in unison: “Darren!”
The First Four were by their side in an instant.
“What did you see?” Ms. Therian asked urgently.
Fiona shook her head. “I— It’s more like I can feel him,” she said haltingly.
“He’s close,” Mack added.
“But he’s in trouble. He’s trying to fight something off,” Gabriella finished.
“Let’s go,” Mr. Kimura said.
“Are we going to drive?” Gabriella asked, looking perplexed by the sudden turn of events.
“No time,” Yara said, sounding more sprightly than ever. “Backyard?” she asked, turning to Mr. Kimura.
“Yes. That would be best,” he replied.
Everyone followed Mr. Kimura to his perfectly manicured rock garden, where the gnarled bonsai cast strange shadows in the light of the moon. The world began to shake again, and this time Fiona could see why: in the distance, a bizarre bolt of lightning struck in reverse, blasting from the earth to the clouds instead of the other way around.
“Elmbridge?” Sefu asked in a low voice.
“Yes,” Ms. Therian replied. “There’s no doubt in my mind.”
“Come closer,” Mr. Kimura said. When everyone was standing in a tight circle, Mr. Kimura made a strange motion with his hands. Fiona watched in amazement as she seemed to fade away, leaving only the faintest outline of herself behind.
“A cloaking illusion,” Ms. Therian explained, anticipating Fiona’s question. “As close to invisibility as we can manage with a group this size, and easily reversed when the time is right.” The five land Changers transformed; then Ms. Therian and Mr. Kimura knelt down so that Fiona and Yara could climb onto their backs. Fiona had never ridden on a werewolf before; she grabbed fistfuls of Ms. Therian’s coarse fur and held on for dear life as the were
wolf began to gallop toward the lightning.
The world passed by in a blur as the Changers moved at top speed. Fiona could feel the thundering of their paws more than she could hear them. All the while they raced toward the strange lightning, a better beacon to lead them to Darren than Fiona ever dreamed they would have.
It seemed like just seconds passed before they arrived at a decrepit mansion deep in the woods. A weathered sign read faintly: ELMBRIDGE ESTATE. The darkness would have been all-consuming, but Darren’s lightning bolt shone as brightly as the sun—and a good thing, too, since Fiona suddenly shrieked, “Look out!”
There was an army of witches and warlocks approaching them, their curses crackling through the night air. Ms. Therian tried to shield her, for which Fiona was grateful. Outside of the water, her selkie transformation was useless, and her magic was still bound up in the selkie songs, which she could only learn from another selkie. Fiona watched as Gabriella and Mack took on a warlock by themselves, helping to clear the way up the mansion steps. When will it be my turn to fight like that? Fiona thought. When will I get to use my magic to protect my friends?
Luckily, the First Four were able to handle the warlocks and witches with ease. All Fiona had to do was stay out of the way. She had never seen the First Four using their powers together. Their skills and strategies were utterly captivating, but as much as she wanted to watch the battle, it was hard to draw her eyes away from the stunning lightning bolt.
At last it was quiet outside. Fiona held her breath, waiting for the next wave of warlocks and witches to attack.
But they never came.
Proceed with caution, Mr. Kimura’s voice rang in her head—and in everyone else’s too, she suspected. As quickly as they dared, they approached the mansion. Fiona stared up at it with apprehension. The building was enormous. Who knew how many witches and warlocks were inside? Was this just a trap, set to lure them in and destroy them?
There was only one way to find out.
Just moments after they crossed the threshold, two warlocks appeared, curses glimmering at their fingertips. Fiona felt a rush of air as Mack and Gabriella, both still in their Changer forms, passed her and tackled them. Once again, she felt that pinch of longing. It was almost unbearable to be so useless; so completely and totally useless.
I’m deadweight, Fiona thought. Why do they even bring me on land missions?
Then she shook her head and pushed forward through the dank hall. It’s not about me, she reminded herself. It’s about Darren—and Jai and all the others who disappeared—and rescuing them, no matter what it takes.
The same feeling that had alerted Fiona and the other kids to Darren’s location back at Mack’s house came to her again. She paused for just a moment to turn her focus inward. Something was telling her to climb the sweeping staircase up, up, up to the third floor of the mansion.
She moved forward—as if in a dream, as if there was only one path that she was ever destined to take, as if every step in her life had led her to precisely this moment.
Fiona glanced at the others, wondering if they felt it too.
That’s when she noticed everyone’s fur was standing up on end. Not from fear, though. From an electrical charge. Even Fiona’s ordinary human hair was floating in the air, as if the force of gravity had abandoned her.
She took the stairs two at a time. There was a doorway at the far end of the corridor, and a blinding light spilled from it.
Darren’s in there! Mack thought to them as he charged forward—or tried to charge forward. Before he could go more than a few steps, Mr. Kimura nipped at his neck.
Caution, Makoto, Mr. Kimura ordered. We approach as one.
Together, they crept forward in a tight group. Fiona knew it was no coincidence that she and Yara, still in their human forms, were huddled in the center, surrounded by everyone else for protection.
As they approached the blazing room, Fiona heard a strange creaking, one that filled her with fear. It was the doors; heavy wooden doors that were now splintered and destroyed, swinging from their hinges even though there was no breeze. There was another force moving through the air instead—electricity—invisible, imperceptible, and more dangerous than Fiona could begin to imagine. She mustered all her courage and stepped past the broken doors, shielding her eyes from the glare.
Nothing in the room was as it should be; Fiona could tell right away. A crackling, buzzing spider web of electrical current flickered throughout the room, holding everything within it—books, papers, even people—aloft. Everyone and everything floated on the current, motionless.
Then Fiona saw something that made her heart lurch. “Darren!”
They had found him. Darren was in the center of the room, his blank eyes glowing with white light, and he was emanating electricity from every inch of his body.
Chapter 10
Spirit-Walking
A quick flash, and Gabriella transformed into her human self. “Darren!” she screamed. She tried to run toward him, but the First Four wouldn’t let her. In an instant they had transformed back too.
“Let me go!” Gabriella cried as she struggled against Mr. Kimura’s grasp.
“Gabriella, he’s not there,” Mr. Kimura said in a terribly quiet voice.
Gabriella forced herself to take a deep breath. “What do you mean?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Of course he is!”
“We have seen this happen before, when a Changer is under extreme stress,” Mr. Kimura explained. He kept his hands on her shoulders, though the tightness of his grip loosened when he realized that Gabriella wasn’t going to charge forward.
“Darren used all his power in defense against . . . whatever was happening in here,” Ms. Therian said as her eyes glanced at the cracked pedestal. “He is in a . . .” Her voice trailed off as she glanced to Yara for assistance.
“It’s more than sleep,” Yara said. “It’s like a trance, almost. In a last-ditch effort, Changers of remarkable power can unleash their ability blindly to save themselves—but their senses are muted to the real world. At this moment Darren is only aware of the world within his own mind.”
Sefu shook his head in dismay. “Never, never have I seen this happen in one so young,” he said softly.
Something in his voice kindled Gabriella’s fear—and her fight. She flexed her fingers and felt the razor-sharp edges of her nahual claws brush against the soft skin of her palms. “But there’s something we can do, right?” she asked. “There has to be something we can do!”
Mr. Kimura looked at her. “There is something you can do,” he replied.
“Anything,” Gabriella said at once.
“No, Akira,” Sefu said, speaking right over Gabriella. “She isn’t ready. We should summon Rosa—”
Mr. Kimura raised his hand, signaling for calm. “Rosa would never make it in time. Gabriella is his only chance.”
“Whatever it is, I want to help,” Gabriella insisted.
“Listen to me first, and then make your decision,” Mr. Kimura told her. “To save Darren you must spirit-walk, Gabriella—slip into Darren’s own unconsciousness—and find a way to bring him back with you to this world. It’s an advanced nahual technique, one that takes decades to master. Your aunt has only just recently come into this power.”
The only sound in the shattered room—it must have been a library since there were bookshelves everywhere—was the faint buzzing from the electrical currents. Gabriella weighed Mr. Kimura’s words. Spirit-walking? She’d heard of it before but never really imagined doing it herself. I guess there’s a first time for everything, Gabriella thought.
“Gabriella, wait,” Ms. Therian said just as Gabriella was about to answer. “You barely know what Akira is asking of you—or the risks. Spirit-walking is highly dangerous, even for advanced adult nahuals. When you leave your body, you run the risk of forgetting how to return to it—or even forgetting why you’d want to. Then your spirit has no choice but to roam the wide world, forever searching for
something that it can no longer find.”
Gabriella swallowed hard, staring uncertainly at Ms. Therian. “But . . . can’t you just wake me up?” she asked. “There must be some spell, or something from The Compendium—”
Ms. Therian shook her head. “It is not so easy, I’m afraid,” she said. “There is no such thing as a spirit alarm clock. What is done will be done by you alone, on your own terms. If you spirit-walk, we cannot help you, even if the worst comes to pass.”
“I don’t like this,” Sefu said. “She is but a child, she cannot fully understand . . .”
A strange calmness overcame Gabriella then; her fists relaxed, and her claws retracted. “But I do understand,” she said. “I’m willing to take the risk. Any risk, if that’s what it takes to save Darren. I have to try, at least—he would do the same for me. I know it.”
No one spoke, but Gabriella thought she saw a glimmer of respect in Mr. Kimura’s eyes. She turned to face him again. “So . . . spirit-walking. How do I do it?”
“I’ll use my powers to hypnotize you into a deep sleep,” Yara told her. “You will awaken in a dream. Now, this is very important, Gabriella: you must remember that it is a dream. That kind of awareness in a dream-state is what will give you the power to reach Darren.”
“I understand,” Gabriella said again. “So, when I realize I’m dreaming—”
“You must will yourself out of your own dream and into Darren’s,” Yara said. “It’s hard to explain, but I think you’ll understand what to do when it’s happening to you. When you find him, Gabriella—listen carefully, this is also important—you must convince him to wake up immediately, for your sake as well as his. If he doesn’t wake up, the chance of you finding your body again is very slim.”
Yara paused to gesture toward Darren, whose skin had a sickly gray cast that was highlighted by his vacant white eyes. “He can’t keep this up forever,” Yara continued. “If you don’t reach him in time, he will exhaust his powers. And if that happens, we will lose him.”