Tabitha tugged at her black hair. “Two days ago that might have sounded ridiculous, but now it actually sounds feasible. I don’t suppose she helped you find the missing piece while you were there?”
“I have some bad news. Miss Appleby destroyed the missing piece. That’s the only reason why she kept the machine around, because she knew it didn’t work.” Midnight’s bottom lip began to wobble as the reality of what had happened hit home.
“Do you think she might be lying?”
“Why would she lie about that when she was so happy to confess to everything else?” Midnight’s throat tightened. “And that’s not the worst of it.”
“How can it get worse than almost being killed by a one-hundred-and-fifty-year-old woman?” Tabitha demanded. “And look, I know that being peppy isn’t normally my thing, but we can’t give up.”
“I wish it were that easy. Unfortunately, thanks to the fact that I taught her how to use the ghost app, she can now leave Berry for the first time since 1895. And once she leaves, we’ll have no chance of stopping her.”
They’d failed. And it was all Midnight’s fault.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
As Midnight walked into the Country Kitchen with her mom, Phil, and Taylor that night, she knew she was in for a rough evening. The restaurant was cute enough—it had long chalkboard menus, mason jars crammed with lavender, and wide trestle tables made out of old barn doors. Even the food smelled nice. But she couldn’t get the events at Miss Appleby’s house out of her head. And then she saw that Sav and Lucy were there with Sav’s fancy lawyer father and society mom.
None of this was helped by the fact that Midnight’s mom was wearing a bright-purple, Mexican embroidered top with equally bright red jeans, and Phil had on his favorite Sons of a Gunnar T-shirt for the occasion. Midnight was pretty sure that even the blind woman at the far end of the restaurant turned to look at them with interest.
“You really must be the unluckiest girl around.” Taylor snickered. “Still, at least you’re not wearing a mouse costume.”
“They’re the least of my worries,” Midnight sighed, following the waiter to their table.
Sav and Lucy pointedly ignored her.
“Are you okay?” Taylor narrowed her eyes.
“Fine. Great. On top of the world.” Midnight bit her lip and willed herself not to cry. The worst thing about seeing Sav and Lucy was that it reminded her of just what a bad judge of character she was. After all, she’d been friends with two girls who’d been rude to Tabitha and Logan, not to mention half the other kids in their class. Yet Midnight hadn’t even cared because she’d been too busy congratulating herself on being popular. As for Miss Appleby, Midnight had been even blinder.
She’d messed up so badly, and now there was no way to stop it.
Miss Appleby could go anywhere, and what was to prevent her from changing her name or the color of her hair? She would just fall off the radar and keep capturing innocent spectral energy, regardless of the consequences.
“Look.” Taylor fell into step with her. “I shouldn’t have given you a hard time. The truth is that those girls are toxic and you can do better than them.”
“Thanks.” Midnight blinked, half waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Instead, Taylor reached out and squeezed her hand. “Don’t mention it.” Her sister smiled and while it didn’t stop Sav and Lucy from glaring, Midnight managed to walk past them without crying. Unfortunately, that proved to be the highlight of the evening, and by the time she crawled into bed, her head was pounding.
Her dreams were peppered with images of Elizabeth Irongate. Her face kept disappearing and being replaced with pale pink fog, begging Midnight to stop the woman who’d taken her life and that of her father. But instead of standing up and helping them, Midnight just laughed and held a car door open so that Miss Appleby could drive away. It was like assisting Darth Vader in getting the Father of the Year award.
By the time it was morning, Midnight was almost pleased to get up. She groggily put on her glasses and walked to the window. It had become her habit to stare at the tiny wisps of spectral energy floating around, waiting to pass across to the Afterglow where they would be safe.
Unless Miss Appleby got to them first.
Midnight took her glasses off and turned away, only to catch sight of the electro-pulse converter sitting useless on her desk. Suddenly the idea of having it in her room made her ill. What was the point of keeping it when it didn’t work? And even if she could fix it, Miss Appleby would be gone by the end of the day.
She gathered it up and marched downstairs. The sooner it was gone, the better. But it wasn’t until she walked into the kitchen that she realized Phil was there. He was wearing a gray tunic with embroidery around the neckline that was barely visible thanks to the heavy metal pendant hanging there. On his head was a fur-lined hat the size of a house. The table was covered with a sword, a leather belt, and some kind of thing that had a chain attached to it—just in case she thought her day couldn’t get any worse.
“It’s okay.” Phil stood. “I’m just on my way out. We’ve got a big battle next week and we still need to work on our shield techniques.”
“Um, that’s nice,” Midnight said, reminding herself that she’d promised to be polite. Besides, she wasn’t actually annoyed at Phil; she was more annoyed with herself for failing the world. Big time.
“Now, that looks interesting,” he said, noticing the electro-pulse converter. “Let me guess, late-nineteenth century? Locally made, judging by the Virginian pine timber, though I’ve never seen an electromagnetic battery modified like that before.”
Midnight’s jaw dropped. “Y-you know what this is?”
“Sure, they were used to deliver electric shocks to patients during the Victorian era. We have several of them in the museum.” Color rose in his cheeks. “Okay, I didn’t mean to say that.”
“Say what?” Midnight blinked.
“About the museum,” he said as he sat back down and let out a sigh. “If any of the Gunnars knew that I did a bit of work for the Berry American History Museum, I’d never hear the end of it. The museum claimed that Vikings weren’t technically part of American history and refused to donate to help us build a longboat. Ever since, they’ve been feuding. But I like fixing things, so I’ve helped them maintain some of the equipment.”
“Wait, you actually know how this thing works?” Midnight’s pulse quickened. Was this some weird dream too? One where Phil was telling her that he wasn’t just her mom’s annoying fiancé who dressed like a Viking, but that he actually knew how to fix the converter?
“Pretty much.” He gave her one of his goofy nods, but this time Midnight didn’t mind it. “But there’s something different about this. It’s been modified, and of course, it’s missing the main capacitor.”
“Capacitor? What’s that?”
“They’re used to store energy in an electric field. My guess is that this one would’ve been made of glass.”
“S-so if I wanted to get one of the capacitors, how would I go about that?” Midnight said, hardly daring to move.
“It would cost a fortune to buy an original, but if you just wanted to make the machine work, I’d be happy to rig you up one. It wouldn’t look pretty, but it would do the job.”
“You could really do that?” Tears prickled in the corners of her eyes. She might still have a chance.
“Sure,” Phil said. “We could head over to the garage now if you like. I’m not due at the park for another hour. Tell you what, you go get ready, and I’ll call your mom to let her know what we’re doing.”
“I—” Midnight paused, uncertain of how she could fully express her gratitude. In the end, she just gave him a shy smile. “Thank you.”
“Don’t be silly. It’s my pleasure.” Phil beamed before reaching for the phone while Midnight hurried upstairs. It didn’t take her long to get ready, and she only slowed down long enough to text Tabitha before racing back downstairs
to where Phil was waiting, his fur-lined hat tilted slightly back from his head and the chain mail beneath his tunic clanking as he moved.
Ten minutes later, they were at the garage, and Midnight caught sight of her mom’s old Vespa sitting in one of the bays. Gone were the faded, peeling paint and rusted parts. Now it had a pastel yellow body, gleaming chrome, and off-white upholstery. She let out a soft gasp and Phil looked up in concern before realizing what had caught her attention.
“Looks a bit different, doesn’t it?”
“I can’t believe it’s the same scooter,” she said truthfully as she walked around it. Suddenly she understood just why Taylor had been so excited. “It’s amazing.”
“Thank you.” Phil’s round face lit up. He beckoned for her to follow him past the cars and spare tires to the back room. The place was filled with everything from an old-fashioned gas pump to gleaming swords. Along the back wall was a neat bench with long shelves filled with plastic boxes full of spare parts.
Phil carefully lifted the electro-pulse converter out of the bag and made a clicking noise with his teeth as he examined it. Then he grinned and reached for a screwdriver. Fifteen minutes later, he put down his multimeter and stepped back to admire his handiwork. It involved a small glass jar with a battery and some wire inside it.
“Okay, Midnight Reynolds. This is now fully operational. When you press that button, a charge comes out through the brass pipe at the side. See?”
Midnight held her breath and watched Phil’s oil-stained finger press down on one of the many switches. There was a humming noise as a red light lit up, and a small spark appeared at the end of the brass pipe. Phil’s brown eyes filled with pleasure. Suddenly, Midnight could imagine Phil and George Irongate having a conversation about spectral transformers and the best way to solder a wire.
She also started to understand just why her mom and sister both liked him so much—and just how much she had misjudged him. After all, poor Elizabeth Irongate’s stepmom had killed her. The worst thing Phil had ever done was tell the occasional lame Viking joke.
The two things could hardly compare.
“Phil, thank you. You have no idea what this means.” She bowed her head to hide her burning cheeks.
“You’re welcome. Oh, but just so you know, the battery will only last for five minutes of use. Whatever it is that you’re using it for, you’ll need to do it fast.”
“Okay.” Midnight nodded before giving him a shy smile. “And thank you for not asking me what it’s for.”
“If I’m going to be part of your family, you should be able to ask me for help whenever you need it. No questions asked.” Phil shrugged and wiped his hands with an old rag, then gave her a warm smile. “Unless, of course, it’s with spreadsheets. I think I’ll leave them to you.”
“Well, I’m grateful,” she said as she caught sight of the time and realized that if she wanted to stop Miss Appleby, she really needed to leave. She gave Phil another smile before she headed for the door.
“Hey, Midnight,” he suddenly called out. “Don’t forget your glasses. Your mom said that you can’t see properly without them.”
Midnight flushed as she hurried back to retrieve them. “She’s right. There were lots of things that I couldn’t see clearly before. Thankfully, everything’s starting to come into focus now.”
Then, without another word, she hurried out of his garage and down the street. As she went, she sent Tabitha a quick text to tell her that the electro-pulse converter was working and that it was time to go and kick some butt.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“Wow, go, Phil,” Tabitha said fifteen minutes later as they both crouched behind Miss Appleby’s shed. Midnight had filled her in on what had happened. “To think that for the last week, the answer’s been sitting across the dinner table from you.”
“I know. It was only because I was going to throw it out that he even saw it.” Midnight shuddered and lifted George Irongate’s invention out of her backpack before getting to her feet. There was a large moving truck out in front of the house and a trail of people carrying boxes out. Thankfully none of them had made their way into the backyard yet, and the large tank was still there, gleaming despite the dull weather.
Midnight took a deep breath. This was it—her chance to fix what she’d started.
“So, what’s the plan?” Tabitha asked as they made their way across the dry grass.
“There’s only enough charge in this thing to last for five minutes, so we have to be quick.”
“Five minutes? Well, that’s unfortunate.” Miss Appleby suddenly appeared in front of them, waves of darkness swirling around her body like a black halo. Midnight’s mouth went dry. Next to her, Tabitha’s face turned pale. This definitely wasn’t part of the plan. But she refused to give Miss Appleby the satisfaction of knowing how terrified she was.
As usual, Miss Appleby was holding her knitting in her hands. Her skin was more illuminated than ever as swirling waves of dark energy rolled off her shoulders. Midnight’s skin crawled at the visual reminder of just how badly she’d messed up.
“Unfortunate for you, maybe,” Tabitha growled, plastering on her mocking frown. “But not for us. We’ve got you.”
“If you say so,” Miss Appleby said in a serene voice, glancing at Midnight. “I’m impressed you fixed it. You really are a lot more resourceful than I gave you credit for. Unfortunately, it’s all going to be a waste of time.”
“What makes you say that?” Tabitha demanded.
“Because, as I’m sure you read in my dearly departed husband’s diary, George’s first attempt didn’t work. Too bad I won’t be around to witness your faces when you figure out that you wasted your precious five minutes for no reason.”
“Don’t listen to her, Midnight. She’s just trying to spook you,” Tabitha said, though it was obvious that some of her bravado had left her.
Midnight dropped to her knees and carefully put the wooden box down on the ground. This was her only chance to make things better. She pursed her lips and focused. She’d made so many mistakes, misjudged so many people. This time she wasn’t going to mess it up.
She pressed the button and aimed the brass nozzle at the large tank. Next to her, Tabitha shifted from foot to foot and sucked in a sharp breath as the small red light blinked into action. A spark of light flickered out of the pipe in Midnight’s hand. Miss Appleby didn’t look concerned. Instead, she gave them both a polite wave before walking back toward the house for the final time.
“Go on,” Tabitha urged. “Point it at the tank and free the spectral energy. Let them cross over to the Afterglow. It’s now or never.”
“It sure is,” Midnight agreed as the light glinted off the tank. Suddenly she froze. The tank. She could see the tank. As in, there was no dark energy around it at all. The darkness had been around Miss Appleby, which meant there was only one place all the trapped spectral energy could possibly be. Her adrenaline spiked as she twisted around and aimed the nozzle in the direction of the large knitting bag in Miss Appleby’s hand. It was covered in darkness. She pressed her finger down and watched the first spark of light hit it.
The old woman spun back around, her mouth open and her brown eyes bulging as she was engulfed in a piercing white light.
“What are you doing?” Tabitha’s head swiveled, her eyes misted in confusion. “What about the tank? You only have five minutes to get this right.”
“The tank’s the mistake.” Midnight shook her head, her jaw tight. “That’s why it didn’t work for George Irongate. Every ounce of spectral energy has been sucked out of it and into those balls of yarn she’s been using.”
“Stop it. Turn it off.” Miss Appleby’s face crumpled as the knitting bag fell to the ground. A seemingly never-ending amber blanket tumbled out and balls of yarn rolled in all directions, hissing and squealing as they went. Midnight’s heart hammered in her chest as the white light engulfed them all. And suddenly the yarn and knitted blanket were gone. Thousan
ds of beams of light exploded skyward in a riot of colors. “Please, you can’t do this.”
“I’m not doing anything.” Midnight gritted her teeth as the white light continued to pump out. “You’re the one who did it. You trapped all of those souls, stopped them from crossing over to the Afterglow—all so you could live longer.”
Midnight’s whole body shuddered as the machine jumped in her hands. Next to her, Tabitha craned her neck upward and gasped.
“I can see it. It’s—”
“Beautiful,” Midnight agreed as a pale pink shower of light skyrocketed into the air and out of sight. Finally, the white energy coming out of the nozzle fizzled away and Midnight’s aching arms fell to her side. Miss Appleby was still as the skin around her cheekbones began to sink.
“No.” Miss Appleby let out a final gasp as her hair turned to dust and her body tumbled in on itself like a set of dominoes. “Please…” she gasped, but the rest of the words were lost as her body crumbled to the ground in a pile of dust.
“Is that it? Is it really over? Is she dead ?” Tabitha asked just as the brown, shriveled grass rippled back to life. Midnight let out a gasp. Arthritic, old tree trunks straightened their spines and their branches unfurled green leaves, while delicate creepers inched their way back up the once-bare walls of the house. The whole place rustled with noise as small birds chattered to each other. It was like the entire yard had woken up.
“I don’t know.” The words tore at her throat. Was Miss Appleby really gone? The excitement that she thought she’d feel deserted her. She’d released all of the trapped souls but she couldn’t smile. It didn’t feel like anyone had won. What if she’d killed Miss Appleby? What did that make her?
“What if you saved hundreds and thousands of spirits who’ve been trapped in a place where they don’t belong?” a clipped English accent said. The pair of them turned around to see a well-dressed, middle-aged man walking out of the back door of Miss Appleby’s house. His hair was neatly combed away from his face, and his shoes were so polished they were almost a mirror. “That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it?”
Midnight Reynolds and the Spectral Transformer Page 13