by Michael Dahl
“No,” said Annie. “Each floor has a different flower. Roses, lilies, tulips, violets. I think that was Mr. Brack’s idea, because he really likes flowers.”
“This writing is important,” said Charlie, waving the yellow paper in his fist. “And it has something to do with the thirteenth floor, which is just below our feet. And something to do with a magic carpet. And whoever was visiting Brack last night saw his notes. These notes.”
“So now what?” asked Annie.
“‘Turn lily there,’” Charlie said. “I wonder where ‘there’ is? Well, we might as well head to the magicians’ rooms. But let’s keep an eye on the wallpaper. Maybe there’s a hidden code or something.”
As Annie led them toward the magicians’ rooms, Charlie kept his eyes trained on the lilies that flowed past them on the wallpaper. He started feeling dizzy from staring at the repeating pattern of flowers.
“Here we are,” said Annie. She had stopped between two doors. On the floor next to the wall lay several trays of half-eaten food, empty glasses, and a single coffee cup.
Charlie stuffed the yellow paper in his pocket. He felt something else.
The red hair.
The hair that matched the fake beard. If the hair was fake, then whoever was visiting Brack was in disguise. And no one would wear a disguise except someone who might be recognized.
“Theopolis!” said Charlie.
“Where?” said Annie, turning around.
“Upstairs, last night,” said Charlie. “That’s who visited Brack. He was the one who took the blueprints so he could get information about the hotel. And he’s stayed inside the hotel ever since.”
“But I thought Mr. Dragonstone and DeVille used the blueprints to figure out that trick with the glass door,” said Annie.
“Yeah, you’re right,” said Charlie.
“So how did the blueprints get from Mr. Theopolis to the dressing room for Mr. Dragonstone?” she asked.
That’s the big question, thought Charlie. How did the blueprints get in there?
“Charlie,” Annie said slowly. “Look.” She was pointing at the carpet.
There was a pattern in the carpet. A rectangle made of twisting lines of gold and turquoise and emerald and cream.
“It’s beautiful,” said Annie. “Like something out of the Arabian Nights.”
“Yeah, like something from Aladdin,” said Charlie. “It looks like —”
“A magic carpet,” they said together.
Charlie took a deep breath. “Remember what Brack wrote down.”
“‘Turn lily there,’” said Annie. They both turned to the wallpaper on either side of the hall and examined the painted flowers.
One of the lilies in the wall was not painted. It was actually a small plaster flower on the wallpaper itself, blending in with the two-dimensional flowers around it.
“I found it! I found it!” Annie said.
One of the magicians’ doors opened abruptly. “Who is making all that noise?” A man stuck out his head and looked at Annie and Charlie. His expression was not kind.
His face made Charlie think of a million things all at once. He thought of the fake red beard. Someone in disguise having coffee with Brack last night. Someone reading Brack’s writing as the old magician had been studying his precious blueprint. He thought of the signature on the card in Dragonstone’s room. The writer had not written “The DeV.” The writer had made a mistake. He’d started writing the wrong word — “Th” — and then changed his mind.
Then Charlie thought of the Glass Door trick. How the French wizard DeVille had told Ty to stand at the far end of the hall since he knew his way around there.
And how the man had shouted at Charlie, calling him “Hitchcock,” and ordering him to pull aside the black curtains to reveal Dragonstone.
How did DeVille know that Ty worked at the hotel? They never saw each other. Ty had already left for school before the Frenchman arrived. And how did he know Charlie’s last name?
How did DeVille know?
Because he had been to the hotel before. In fact, that’s how the blueprint got from Theopolis to the dressing room. The same man who stole the papers also hid them. The same man who saw the blueprint last night saw it during the rehearsal, and then suggested the Glass Door and Wormhole finale to Dragonstone’s Empty Straitjacket trick after the rehearsal.
Because he was the only person who knew the secret of the glass door besides Brack.
One person.
A single person behind two beards, one red and one black.
“Theopolis!” cried Charlie.
“You meddling little brat!” said the magician, stepping into the hall. “You’re always ruining my plans!”
“When Dragonstone called you, his friend ‘DeVille,’ to substitute for Brack, you were already inside the hotel,” said Charlie.
“I’ll make sure you never leave this hotel again,” said Theopolis. “I’ll deal with you like I dealt with Brack!”
“You’re angry with him just because he revealed one of your tricks?” said Charlie. He was stalling for time.
“Just? Just?!” The magician’s face contorted with rage. “A magician’s tricks are his life. I was never able to use that trick again.”
“You’ve never stolen a trick?” asked Annie.
Theopolis laughed. “I may have borrowed one or two. But I transform them. In my hands they become true miracles.”
Charlie and Annie heard a sound behind them in the hall. “This is great,” came a voice. “Just what I need for my scoop.” Joey Bingham stepped out of the shadows. He held a video camera aimed at the arguing trio.
“Young man,” said Theopolis. “Have you been recording all this time?”
“Mostly,” said Joey with a big grin. “Keep talking. This is great stuff.”
“What’re you doing here?” Charlie asked.
“I’ve been here all day,” said Joey. “I kept seeing you two running around and always going back to the elevator. I knew something was up.” He laughed. “Up? Get it?”
Theopolis completely changed his manner. He became smooth and friendly. He sleeked his hair and bowed toward the camera. “Would you like a quick interview before the big show?” he said. “Learn how a famous performer prepares for the stage?”
“No,” said Charlie. “You want something better than that, Joey. Something more exclusive. Something amazing. Something like how a magic trick is performed.”
“No!” said Theopolis.
“Yeah,” said Joey.
“Like the secret of the falling magician,” Charlie said. “How did Dragonstone disappear from his straitjacket and then end up on the twelfth floor?”
Theopolis took a step toward the boys. “You’re just like that thief Brack!” he snarled.
Charlie faced Joey’s camera and spoke as quickly as could. “The secret is simple,” Charlie said. “There’s a second straitjacket stuck to the back of the real one Dragonstone wears. He probably has a string or flap he can secretly pull with his hand. When he falls, the second jacket pops off and falls toward the stage. Dragonstone, still inside the first one, falls behind a trick mirror onstage. They both hit the ground at the same time.”
“It looked like a cool trick,” said Annie.
“It was,” said Charlie. “And is. Dragonstone needs to be very skilled at timing, and at falling. He probably lands on some kind of safety net behind the trick mirrors. But it takes a lot of skill to fall and not break your neck.”
Annie smiled. “And didn’t you tell me earlier how Dragonstone passed through that solid glass door, too?”
“Enough, enough!” cried the magician. He folded his arms and looked down at Charlie. “What do you want?” he asked.
“I don’t want anything,” said Charlie. “But I’m sure Brack would like to keep
his hotel.”
“The hotel is mine,” shouted the magician. “And so is that video camera!”
Another door popped open. A tall, red-headed man appeared. He stepped into the hall pulling on a pair of gloves.
“What’s all this noise?” asked David Dragonstone. “Monsieur DeVille! You aren’t dressed for the performance yet.”
“Will there be a performance, Mr. DeVille?” asked Charlie.
Dragonstone froze. He stared at Theopolis. “What does he mean, DeVille?”
Charlie whispered to Theopolis, “If Brack doesn’t have a hotel, then you don’t have a trick. Joey and I will play his video to the audience that’s waiting for you downstairs.”
“Think you’re clever, don’t you, Mr. Hitchcock?” said Theopolis. “Very well. You have won this battle.” He turned and walked back to the door of his room. He stopped and shot Charlie a wicked glance. “But the war is not over!” And with a snap of his teeth, he exited the hall.
“Wish I could stay and chat with you youngsters, but I have to be onstage in twenty minutes,” said Dragonstone. He hurried down the hall toward the elevators.
“Wow!” said Joey, turning toward Annie and Charlie. “That was incredible! What a scoop!”
“You can’t show people your video,” said Charlie.
“I know that,” said Joey. “I need that magician guy to sign a release form first.”
“No,” said Charlie. “I mean you can’t show it ever. Or Brack loses the hotel.”
Annie smiled. “Let’s go downstairs to watch the show. And then Charlie and I can explain everything that’s been going on.”
“You got a deal,” said Joey.
As they walked back down the hallway, Charlie glanced at the magic carpet design beneath their shoes. A gleaming rectangle of many colors.
He knew the rectangle held the secret to finding his missing friends.
He also knew that as soon as he and Annie had convinced Joey Bingham not to show his video, they’d get right back on that elevator again.
They had to find the thirteenth floor of the Hocus Pocus Hotel.
Charlie had never slept in a magician’s house before. It was disappointing.
No unearthly moans.
No rattling chains.
No phantoms flitting through walls.
Charlie would have welcomed them, and would have spent the rest of the night trying to solve the mystery of what they really were. He loved solving puzzles.
Charlie yawned and pulled the blanket to his chin. Counting ghosts would have been a lot more fun than lying there counting sheep. Instead, he listened to the rumbling of the thunderstorm outside and to the ticking of a grandfather clock.
The clock faced the sofa on which he was trying to fall asleep. A flash of lightning lit up the dial.
Almost three o’clock? he thought. Only four more hours! He groaned and rolled over, gazing around Brack’s sitting room.
Groans came from the closet.
For a nanosecond, Charlie hoped it was a ghost, but he knew the sound was just old floorboards settling in the storm.
The boy glanced over at the magician’s big, wooden desk. The pile of books and papers covering the desk was the reason he was staying overnight.
On the magician’s desk lay a clue that Charlie hoped would lead him to his friends. It was a sheet of paper that held an unusual list of words:
It was the last entry in the list that bothered him the most. The 12. Did that mean the twelfth floor?
Then why hadn’t Brack written it the way he wrote 13th floor just above it?
Dnnng! Dnnng! Dnnng!
Three o’clock. Charlie shifted on the sofa and pulled the blanket around him more tightly.
What — or who — are the Twelve? he wondered. There were twelve months in the year. Twelve numbers on a clock. Twelve days of Christmas. Twelve signs of the Zzzzz . . .
Brack’s sitting room soon echoed with the thunder-like rumbling of Charlie’s snores.
And while the boy slept, a dark figure — waiting patiently in the shadows — slipped from the closet, made its way to the front door, and darted away from the magician’s house.
* * *
Four hours later, Charlie yawned and stepped off the elevator, shuffling through the vast lobby of the Abracadabra.
“Charlie! Over here!” came a voice.
Charlie rubbed his eyes and saw Annie waving furiously near the front desk. Another girl stood next to her.
“Charlie,” said Annie, smiling widely. “This is Cozette. She’s new here. Just started a couple weeks ago.”
The other girl held up a hand and said, “Hey.” She had thick dark hair and bright eyes, and wore pink shoes that matched her fingernail polish.
“Cozette’s going to help us,” said Annie. “I figured two heads are better than one, and, well, three heads are better than two.”
Before Charlie could ask a question, Annie grabbed his hand and pulled him, along with Cozette, toward the hotel restaurant. “Come on, I’m starving,” she said.
Tyler’s dad, Walter Yu, showed them to a table. “Breakfast is on the house,” he said. “Thanks to you, Annie, and your friend here, we can all keep our jobs. And the hotel is safe!”
Cozette looked puzzled, so Annie said, “I’ll explain it all later.”
And she did, with help from Charlie, while the three of them dug into eggs, toast, bacon, and fruit.
Annie explained how the two of them, but mostly Charlie, had saved the hotel from falling into the hands of Theopolis.
“That snake threatened to take away the Hocus Pocus if Mr. Brack didn’t pay the rent,” said Annie.
“But Mr. Brack is missing,” said Cozette.
Annie and Charlie nodded. Charlie had kept Theopolis from stealing the hotel. But who knew how long that would keep the evil magician quiet? Charlie was afraid the man would come up with another awful plan. And soon.
“That’s why we have to find Brack,” said Charlie.
“And Tyler, too,” added Annie. “They’re both in trouble.”
“We told Ty’s parents that he’s been helping us look for Brack,” said Charlie. “But if we don’t find him soon, Mrs. Yu’s going to get suspicious.
“You should call the police,” said Cozette.
“We will,” said Annie. “Tomorrow. If we still can’t find them by the end of the day. But we know they’re somewhere in the hotel.”
“On the thirteenth floor,” said Charlie.
“Thirteen?” said Cozette. Her eyes grew wide. “That seems unlucky.”
“But we’ll go to the fourteenth floor first,” said Charlie.
“Right,” said Annie. “The lily.”
Cozette put down her fork. “Lily who?”
“No, it’s lily what,” said Annie. “A flower.”
“But not really a flower,” said Charlie.
Cozette sighed. “I don’t know why you talked me into this, Annie.”
“Because we have to help Tyler,” said her friend. Cozette and Charlie shared a glance. They knew Annie liked Tyler. Really liked him.
Cozette patted her lips with her napkin and then dropped it on the table. “Okay then,” she said. “Let’s go rescue Tyler.”
When they got off the elevator at the fourteenth floor, Charlie led them to the hallway he and Annie had investigated the day before. Annie waved toward two doors, side by side. “That’s where the magicians are staying this week. Theopolis there, and Mr. Dragonstone there.”
“David Dragonstone?” said Cozette. “He is so cute! Do you think he’ll come out if we knock on the door? Will he be wearing his white suit?”
“We’re here to look for Tyler, remember?” said Annie.
“Besides, David Dragonstone might be involved in this,” added Charlie.
“What’s that?” asked Cozette.
“The trick where he walks through a glass door down on the twelfth floor,” Annie said. “Charlie knows how he got through the glass. But he doesn’t know how he got to the twelfth floor in the first place.”
Charlie walked down the hall.
“Tyler stood at one end of that hallway. The solid glass door was at the other end. But somehow Dragonstone appeared in the middle,” he said.
“How?” asked Cozette.
Charlie was staring carefully at the wall. “I think it has something to do with this.”
The two girls rushed over to him.
“That’s the lily!” said Annie. The dark wallpaper was covered with patterns of lilies. The flower Charlie was staring at, however, was not printed on the wallpaper. It was made of plaster and sat on top of the paper, in three dimensions, but blended in with the flowers around it. If a person hadn’t been looking for it, they would have overlooked it in the flowing pattern.
“Brack’s writing,” said Charlie, referring to the paper he had found the day before, “had the words ‘turn lily there.’”
“I figured out that part,” said Annie.
“So, how do we turn it?” asked Cozette.
“I’m not exactly sure,” said Charlie. He took a few steps back for a better view. On the floor beneath his shoes was a rectangle. It was the only shape in the otherwise plain, red carpet. A rectangle made of twisting lines of gold and emerald and cream. Charlie was sure that the two items that didn’t fit in, the rectangle and the flower, were parts of the same puzzle.
Cozette shrugged. “Why don’t you just try turning it?”
She reached out and grabbed the plaster lily. With a small crunch, it turned in her grip like a doorknob.
Something thudded in the hallway and shook the floor. Annie gasped. The rectangle in the carpet tilted downward, like a waterslide, into a dark rectangular space. The last things Charlie saw were Cozette’s pink shoes.