by Ed Masessa
“Perfect, Mrs. Verrity.” In a small town like Henry’s, it wasn’t unusual for local merchants to know the names of their best customers. And since school let out for the summer, Henry had become a library regular.
Over the last several weeks, Henry had continued to work at translating the books. He’d filled notebook after notebook with his neatest handwriting. Some of it made sense, but much of it sounded like complete gibberish. Also included within the main body of the text were lists of things that looked like recipes for what could qualify as some of the nastiest-tasting food on Earth—unless, of course, the food wasn’t meant for human consumption.
He was particularly grossed out by one recipe that contained a scab from a cat’s ear. Occasionally his cat would return home after a rough night in the neighborhood sporting fresh, oozing wounds. The thought of picking a scab from the cat made him shudder. And besides, he was sure that if he tried, he would receive a cat-scratch scab or two of his own.
The dictionary had become his best friend. So many of the words he saw in the ulexite were new to him. He looked up every one of them. When there was more than one definition, he wrote the one or two that best fit the sentence he was translating. As a result, his study habits as well as his vocabulary had improved remarkably.
One night at dinner, he slipped and used the word “transmogrification” when Brianna was talking about tadpoles turning into frogs. “Why, Henry, where did you pick up a word like that?” his mother asked.
“Um … I must have read it in a book,” he answered, which wasn’t a lie. But he made a mental note to be more careful.
The more he translated the old books, the greater his thirst for knowledge became. Whenever he arrived at a peculiar word or the mention of an exotic location, he felt compelled to do some research.
In this way he learned about the lost civilizations of Persia and about the wonders of the ancient world and the people who built them. And every path of research led him to forks that he would follow, until days had gone by and he realized he’d filled pages of a notebook with interesting facts and observations. Inevitably, some of these facts turned up later in his translations, giving him a sense of pride and accomplishment.
If only they would teach some of this in school. How much more interesting it would be.
But in the course of his research he also came across names and places that were remarkably difficult to learn more about. That’s where Mrs. Verrity came in. “No one can know everything, Henry. The secret of possessing knowledge lies in knowing where to look for it.” She had explained this to him on a rainy Saturday afternoon. He had been slumped over a table, frustrated by his Internet research, which was too often unreliable.
Mrs. Verrity worked alone, yet took the time to show Henry how to do research properly. And he soon found out that she was 100 percent right. He could find almost anything if he knew where to look for it—which included getting books on loan from other libraries around the state.
She had sent a postcard to Henry’s home, preferring the postal system to deliver a message over the phone system—or, heaven forbid, the Internet! He was informed in her peculiar, backward-slanted scrawl that the book on alchemy he’d requested had been delivered—which was why he was arriving as the library opened the following day.
Henry scanned the rest of the front door, noticing for the first time all of the other events that were posted. Some had been there for weeks—possibly months. And yet it took the one about the hypnotist to get his attention.
What was it he’d read one day? You never know what you need until you find it. At the time it didn’t make much sense. But suddenly it clicked. The unseen forces of the universe had conspired to bring him to precisely this place at precisely this time.
He was meant to go to the hypnotist’s show.
But by Sunday evening he was having second thoughts. It was possible the entire thing would be a waste of time. He had seen hypnotists on television. It always looked fake—like a staged performance. Getting someone to cluck like a chicken hardly seemed amazing. Any bully could accomplish a simple feat like that by waving a fist in your face instead of a shiny coin.
But what if this was the real thing? It could be the break he was waiting for in his never-ending battle with Billy Bodanski. What if Henry was able to turn the tables and have Billy do what he wanted for a change? It was an opportunity too good to pass up.
As they piled into the car, Henry’s excitement grew, thinking about all the possibilities of hypnotism. They arrived at the library, and the car had barely come to a stop when Henry opened the door, ready to bound up the stairs and secure a front row seat.
“Henry,” his mother said.
Oh no! He knew that tone. He knew what was coming.
“Take your sister.” It wasn’t a question.
“But—”
“No buts. You will take your sister. End of story.”
Usually this sort of standoff ended with “and we’ll go for ice cream later” or some similar bribe. Not this time. His mother’s intensity was almost scary.
“Fine!” He felt his cheeks redden as his excitement changed to anger.
But Brianna wasn’t moving. “Do I have to go, Mommy?”
Suddenly there was hope! Surely his mother would not force her little darling to do something she didn’t want to.
“Yes.” A single word uttered with power. He had never seen her so adamant about anything.
Henry’s neck hair bristled. If his mom was scary before, she was downright frightening now. The car door slowly opened. Brianna stepped out and had barely closed the door before the car rocketed away, tires squealing as it turned the corner and disappeared.
“Wow” was all he could think to say. Mom had been acting even weirder than usual since the incident with the moles, but this was beyond weird.
He finally faced his sister, only to find her glaring at him. Clearly she was angry.
“Hey, it’s not my fault.” But as they continued their staring contest, it dawned on him that this might be the first time Brianna was forced to do anything she didn’t want to. A now-you-know-what-it-feels-like smile crept onto his face.
“This isn’t funny, Henry.” Her gaze drifted upward. An extra-large full moon loomed on the eastern horizon.
Henry knew it was an optical illusion that made it appear bigger and closer than usual, and on a normal night he would find it an awesome sight. But tonight he found it … intimidating. He reached into his pocket for the safe and secure feeling of the Coralis wand and received the now-familiar tingle in his fingertips.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” Brianna whispered to the moon.
Henry felt it too but wouldn’t dare admit it to her. “Come on, then. Let’s get this over with.” He reached for her hand but she jerked it away and walked ahead of him.
Fine, be that way.
A sign on the wall read MAXIMUM OCCUPANCY 60 PEOPLE. Henry took a quick head count. Eleven people. No, make that ten people and one bully. And before he could catch her, Brianna went right to the front row and sat next to him.
The evening had just gone from bad to worse. And Billy’s expression went from surprise to scorn. “Leach.” It was only one word, but it dripped with poison. His soulless eyes drifted to Brianna. “And little Leach.” A dim light clicked on in his brain. “Leach and slug—ha! Ha!”
“My name is Brianna.” Her voice hummed. Henry felt the air bristle with tension. Billy’s laughter faded. He struggled for something to say. His mouth opened and closed several times like a goldfish until he gave up and turned away.
Despite his earlier disappointment, Henry now found Brianna’s presence somewhat comforting. It pays to have an ally when facing the enemy.
“Good evening, everyone!” Mrs. Verrity gathered the small crowd’s attention. “I’d like to thank you all for coming on this very special night. We are honored to have a special guest with us this evening, who has taken a short break from her worldwide tour to g
ive us a special performance.”
Henry hoped the night would be special, but hearing Mrs. Verrity use the word so often gave him some doubt.
Wait! Did she just say her worldwide tour? For some reason he’d assumed the hypnotist would be a man. From the corner of his eye he saw Brianna smile—and Billy squirm, which made Henry smile too. Special or not, the evening had just become much more interesting.
“So … without further ado … I give you … the Amazing … Zeppo!”
A woman stepped from behind a screen in the corner of the room and strode purposefully to the center. She appeared to be younger than his mom and wore a simple white blouse with black pants. But while her appearance was ordinary—almost dull—her eyes shone with focused intensity. For several seconds she appraised her audience in silence, lingering slightly longer than necessary on Henry.
“Good evening.” Her accent was thick and filled Henry’s head with images of old vampires in dark crypts. She shifted her eyes without moving her head until they connected again with Henry’s.
“I said, good evening.”
Caught up in the moment, Henry replied, “Good evening.” He didn’t mean to imitate her accent—it just came out that way.
Billy snickered, and her eyes pounced on him with such force that he popped out of his chair and stood at rigid attention. “No, ma’am,” he sputtered, though no question had been asked.
Brianna edged forward in her seat, clearly impressed.
“Yes, young lady.” Zeppo addressed Brianna. “There is much power in the eyes as well as the voice.”
Can she read our minds? Henry immediately tried to think of nothing—to make his mind a blank slate. But the thought of making his mind blank was still a thought! She would know what he was trying to do. There was no escape!
“There is no need for concern,” she said to Henry. “Most people think hypnotism is nothing more than a cheap parlor trick.” She looked at Billy, still standing. “Do you believe this?”
“No, ma’am.” Henry had never seen Billy afraid of anything, but he was clearly afraid now.
The others in the room were all adults, but thus far, the Amazing Zeppo had addressed only the three children. Henry wondered whether she had some special power that worked better on kids.
“You may sit now.” Billy did so without a sideways glance. Henry watched as a bead of sweat rolled down Billy’s face. There would be no bullying tonight.
“Whether you know it or not, you are being hypnotized every day of your lives. You may wake up in the middle of the night, turn on your television, and before you know it you are inexplicably placing an order for jewelry.”
Henry marveled at her speech patterns—the way she rolled her r’s and elongated words like “tell-u-vi-shun” and “jew-la-ree.”
“Or perhaps you have the urge to buy a new backpack when there is nothing wrong with your old one.” The words “uurj” and “bic-pic” stuck in Henry’s head.
“There are many ways to convince us to do things we would not normally do. The brain is a very complex organ. And whether you know it or not, you are always open to suggestions, which makes it very easy to … mess with your head!”
She slammed abruptly on the word “head” and wheeled it right at Billy. He popped up again like his chair was electrified. The Amazing Zeppo widened her eyes—so did Billy. Then she narrowed them—so did Billy. It was like she was playing a telepathic game of Simon Says with him. With a simple hand gesture she sat him down.
“Can I go next?” Brianna asked boldly.
The Amazing Zeppo snapped her head toward Brianna. The air crackled with tension. Everyone except his little sister knew better than to interrupt.
“And where would you like to go, young lady? Perhaps to visit the restroom?”
A few adults chuckled softly, and Henry saw his sister stiffen. And before he could grab her hand to tell her to behave, she spoke back—using her newly discovered voice. “I think it’s my turn next,” she said with the background hum. But perhaps because she had been insulted, she gave it an extra punch.
“Yes,” an adult said from the back of the room. “Let the girl go next.”
And then another and another. “Yes, let the girl go next,” they chimed in as Brianna’s suggestion overwhelmed them.
As much as Henry wanted to turn around to see the look on their faces, his eyes were glued to the Amazing Zeppo. She was not amused—and she was not affected.
“You are an impertinent child!” She zapped Brianna with a buzzing hum of her own. And while it was directed at his sister, he also felt the sting of her power.
Brianna pushed her back against the chair, squirming into the same rigid posture as Billy and going just as quiet.
“Perhaps you have an interruption for me as well?” Zeppo asked Henry in a gentler way.
He tried several times to say no, but the word stuck in his throat. He panicked, wondering if she had hypnotized him into never speaking again, and vigorously shook his head no.
“Good. Then let us begin.”
The Amazing Zeppo lived up to her hype. One after another, the adults submitted themselves to her power. One recited Shakespeare the way Yoda would say it. One thought the floor was molten lava and ran around looking for a fire hose. And one stomped on mints from his pocket, thinking they were giant cockroaches. She received a standing ovation at the end of the evening, accepting the praise with a humble, modest bow.
Before she left, she turned to Henry, Brianna, and Billy. With a simple hand motion she had them sit and wait while the adults filed out. Henry could hear them questioning one another—“What did I do?”—unable to recall their own silliness. When everyone, including Mrs. Verrity, had left the room, she shifted a chair to sit facing them.
She addressed Billy first. “The next time you think about doing something to harm Henry, you will cluck like a chicken and scratch your behind.” She snapped her fingers close to his face and he immediately relaxed, though he also seemed dazed and confused. “Why are you still here? Go!” Billy hurried from the room.
“The simple minds are easiest to work with.” She smiled for the first time. It transformed her face, and she no longer looked so terrifying. Henry smiled back.
“And now this one.” She addressed Brianna. Henry noticed that while Brianna was quiet and attentive, her head shook with the slightest of quivers. “She is strong-willed, this one. You see how she fights me.”
The Amazing Zeppo snapped her fingers. The effect was completely the opposite of what it had been on Billy. Brianna lunged forward as if she had been trying to get up all along. She caught herself and gulped down a big breath, ready to unleash her pent-up anger at having been restrained for so long—but was stopped by the raised palm of the Amazing Zeppo.
“Think about what you are about to say,” she said sternly. “You are young and strong, but you are no match for me.” Brianna clenched her fists but held her tongue.
“That is better.” She smoothed the wrinkles of her skirt. “I am here because of you, you know, Henry.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
Something about the way she did it made her seem younger, even as the seriousness of her voice sounded almost ancient.
“I am a Keeper,” she said—then she laughed. “Though my boyfriend might not agree.” She saw the puzzled looks on their faces. “Never mind. Bad joke.” She waved a hand and started over. “You might think of me as a librarian. In our world—the world of Wandmakers—I am entrusted with keeping the ancient scrolls and documents safe. I also investigate … unusual requests made at more conventional libraries. You have quite the thirst for knowledge, young man.”
Henry simply nodded, still unable to comprehend this new turn of events.
“How are your translations coming along, Henry?”
“I, um … ”
“It’s all right.” She smiled again. “I’m sure you are doing okeydokey.”
He laughed at her choice of words and the w
ay she said them—like this was probably the first time in her life.
She nodded. “May I see the wand?”
He hesitated, but gave in to his instincts to trust her. His instincts were right—she made no move to touch it. “Yes,” she said admiringly. “He must think highly of you to entrust you with such a powerful element. And rightfully so. You are the eighth. A special number, like the black ball in the center of a game of pool. The one it takes to win.”
“What is happening?” He hadn’t meant to ask anything, but now that he had, he realized it was exactly the right question. All the events of the past weeks were like pieces of an abstract puzzle. If she could give him an idea of how to start piecing them together, maybe he could understand the overall picture.
“The bad moon is on the rise, Henry.”
“Bad moon,” whispered Brianna.
“Do you mean a full moon?” He knew all the moon’s phases, and “bad” wasn’t one of them.
“The bad moon does occur when the moon is full, but only once every several hundred years. The moon holds great power, you see, and if the right person—make that the wrong person—was able to harness it, he or she would gain control over enormous destructive power. Does the term ‘Scorax’ mean anything to you?”
Henry squinted in thought. There was one brief mention in one of the books, but he hadn’t been able to find it in any dictionary. “I’ve seen the word but don’t know what it means.”
Her voice lowered to a whisper. “It is the essence of evil. Whereas the Wandmakers’ Guild is charged with protecting the world, the Scorax is here to destroy it. And while our order has diminished, their membership has grown exponentially. The lure of power is much stronger among those with evil in their hearts.”
Henry swallowed hard. “What does this have to do with me?”
She smiled a sad smile. “You are special, Henry. But being special may not be enough. So listen to me carefully.” Henry leaned forward again. “One of my most important jobs as a Keeper is to find things others miss—or have not yet discovered. I have found you, Henry. You are a child of two heritages. Some would claim you must choose between them. But only by bringing them together can you know yourself. And only by knowing yourself can you hope to overcome evil.” Her eyes bored into Henry. “I am the first to find you. I will not be the last.”