Chase Tinker and the HOUSE OF DESTINY

by Malia Ann Haberman

  "She never wanted to see me again," whispered older Mika. "She called me evil. Evil demon monster. And it's what I was. It's what I felt like."

  Before Chase had a chance to say anything to console her, another thick cloud swirled around them. When it parted, they saw a semi-darkened room—a room in complete shambles. The covers on the bed had been sliced to ribbons; a tall Shoji screen, its rice paper covering shredded, was sprawled on the floor, along with lamps, tattered books, and various broken knick-knacks. Feathers from several now-flattened pillows blanketed everything.

  Chase gasped when his gaze landed on fifteen-year-old Mika slouched in a corner. She looked way different from the happy, carefree girl at the beginning of the first memory. Her face was thin and pale; she seemed more like a ghost than a human. But the strangest things were the long, lethal-looking swords sticking from her spindly arms that lay there like limp octopus tentacles, as if Mika was too weak to lift them from the floor.

  "It happened so fast," whispered older Mika. "Suddenly these swords appeared, slicing wildly through the air. And like other times, I had no control over it."

  "Well, you must have learned some control at some point," said Persephone.

  "With much difficulty and concentration," said Mika. "I would get angry and frustrated with myself."

  "But it wasn't your fault!" exclaimed Chase. "You didn't know. You didn't have anyone to help you or tell you what was going on."

  Mika nodded. "It would have been nice to have known the truth during those dreadful years."

  As they watched the younger Mika, her face hardened into a look of determination. She sat up and closed her eyes, then scrunched her face into a tight, frowning mask. Chase recognized the expressions. He'd spent a lot of hours squinting and scrunching his eyes and face in order to learn to control his own magic.

  Moments later, the swords vanished, and so did the room as the dark clouds descended on them once again.

  As the clouds started to clear, Chase saw a modern, tastefully decorated apartment and thought they were back to Mika's and Nori's place. Suddenly, his senses were bombarded with piercing screams, a baby's pained cries, red-orange fire, and frenzied people running past.

  "Fire!" screamed a frightened voice.

  Chase's eyes flew open. He blinked several times. Where was he? Was the living room on fire? He sniffed the air. No smoke or flames, so everything must be okay. The pillow under his head shifted. Nope. Not a pillow. His head was resting comfortably on Persephone's shoulder. He jerked up. "Uh…sorry," he said. "I don't know how that happened. Wait. Was I sleeping?"

  Persephone stretched and yawned. "I think we all were." She turned to Nori. "You were burned."

  Nori rubbed a hand along her shoulder. "I was told it happened when our last apartment caught on fire."

  The kids all swiveled their gazes to Mika. "Mom?" said Nori.

  Mika stared down at her hands. "It hadn't happened in a long time. I thought I had my terrible affliction under control." She sighed. "After I moved to America to look for Thomas, I met your father, Kenji. Things were going so well. I guess I relaxed too much. One day I was holding you, and my hands turned into fire! You were only a few months old. It was the most terrible thing." She turned her watery gaze to her daughter. "That's the real story on how you got those burns on your shoulders and back. I'm sorry, Nori, for hurting you. After that, I always held it in me as tightly as possible. It can never escape again."

  "But you need to use your magic," said Grandfather. The wrinkle between his eyes deepened as he scrunched his eyebrows together. "I believe the internalizing of your power is causing these strange supernatural occurrences. You have an incredibly large excess of built-up magic inside you. It must be released! And, by my calculations, the sooner the better."

  "She seems to be doing okay now," said Nori, looking hopeful. "Her ears are almost back to normal and her hair hasn't exploded since you got here. Maybe she's getting back to her regular self."

  "It's because, as Keeper, I was able to absorb a small portion of her magic," said Grandfather. "But taking too much of another person's magic can be extremely painful, and dangerous. The rest she must do on her own."

  Mika shook her head vigorously. "No! I don't trust myself not to hurt someone again."

  Grandfather rubbed his hand across his face "If only I had known there was another magical Tinker who needed my help. Oh, Thomas, lad, if I had the ability to get my hands on you right now, I'd strangle you for keeping these secrets from me."

  "You know, you have no room to talk, Grandfather." Chase just couldn't stop himself from adding his own two cents worth. "You've kept a bunch of secrets, too."

  Grandfather pushed himself to his feet. "Yes, Chase, thank you for pointing this out to a forgetful old man."

  "Just, uh, trying to help," said Chase sheepishly.

  "Now then, Mika," said Grandfather. "I think it would be an excellent idea for you to move into the Tinker house so we can all assist you in your magical endeavors."

  "No," said Mika adamantly. "Thank you, but I would prefer not to stay in a magic house."

  "I have an idea," said Persephone. "Why don't we take her to stay at Doctor Dan's? There's no magic there. She'll be close to us and he can keep an eye on her and maybe ease some of her discomfort."

  "Wonderful idea, Persephone," said Grandfather, cutting off any protests Mika might have. "Nori, you will be staying there as well, of course. We'll go now and get you settled, Mika. Nori can then return for some of your belongings."

  Nori jumped to her feet. "You have no idea how much better I'll feel having someone else helping to look after her."

  "And Doctor Dan's is a great place," added Chase. "He's spent a lot of time taking care of sick Tinkers lately."

  "Maybe he can talk her into using some of her power, too," Nori whispered to Chase while Grandfather gathered everyone around him.

  "All right, kids, hang on," said Grandfather.

  Mika glanced around. "What are we—aaahhh!"

  Oh, yeah, Mika's never teleported, Chase thought as the magic took hold of them.

  As they landed at Doctor Dan's, along with Mika's piercing scream, a loud crash greeted their ears.

  "Good grief!" a voice yelled. "You scared the daylights out of me!"

  They'd popped into the middle of the doctor's kitchen, and it looked as though he was busy making dinner. Chase had to stop himself from laughing out loud at Dan in his bright-red "Kiss the Cook" apron. He also had pieces of lettuce stuck in his hair. They looked like green dandruff.

  "Would it be too much to ask for you to at least arrive at the front door?" Dan grumbled as he crawled around on the floor and tried to scoop his scattered salad back into the bowl. "After all, why do you think I keep my front yard looking so immaculate? For visitors to come in that way, of course. All I'm asking for is a little normalcy in my life."

  "We're awfully sorry, Daniel," said Grandfather with an apologetic smile. "But we need to ask a favor of you."

  "My mom's not feeling well," said Nori. "She needs to stay with you for a little while. And me, too. Please?"

  Dan jumped to his feet. "What's wrong with her?" he asked, concern in his voice.

  Grandfather drew Mika forward. "Her pent-up magic is making her ill."

  "More magic?" Dan plopped his salad bowl on the counter. "I might as well change my credentials to say witch doctor, for goodness sake." He sighed. "All right. I'll get your rooms ready. I certainly can't turn away someone who's ill, even if it is a magical disease."

  "Cool!" said Chase as he peeked into the oven and sniffed the delicious smells wafting from it. "Since that's settled, what's for dinner?"

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Sleepless on Blackberry

  Chase flopped from his side, to his back, to his other side for what felt like the hundredth time. Argh! Why wouldn't his brain shut up and let him sleep? Too bad he didn't have a switch to flick off, like a robot or
an android or something. He'd actually fallen asleep earlier, but then another lousy dream had awakened him. Normally he remembered most of the details of his dreams, but this one had slipped away. He wanted to let it go, and yet, for some reason, something about it wouldn't stop bugging him.

  He looked over at Andy, snoring peacefully under his blankets. Andy hadn't said one word to Chase for a week now. He treated his older brother as if he were the invisible boy. When Andy had conjured pepperoni and mushroom pizzas this afternoon, he'd added onions to them, just so Chase wouldn't be able to eat any.

  Well, apparently Andy isn't losing any sleep over all this, Chase thought with a grumpy snort. He hadn't intended to kill or even hurt Janie, even though she'd tried her hardest to take his life. It had happened because he'd been completely out of his mind after he'd thought she'd killed Andy. Why didn't Andy understand this and show a little forgiveness? It hadn't taken him long to forgive their dad for all his lies and deceit.

  With a deep sigh, Chase shoved back his blankets and climbed out of bed. Actually, some pizza sounded pretty good right now. Maybe a snack would make him drowsy. He needed some sleep, even though he would probably have more disturbing nightmares.

  Just last night he'd dreamt he was in an old cemetery with tall crosses, mossy statues, and cracked, lopsided tombstones. Dark clouds had been drifting across the full moon, making the place even creepier. He'd been staring down at a smooth gravestone, pain and guilt bombarding his senses at the sight of "JANE CAROLINE MARLOWE" boldly carved across the front of it. But what had unnerved him the most were the words underneath her name. Unlike Aunt Clair's, which had said something nice about her, this one had said, "MURDERED IN COLD BLOOD BY CHASE TINKER."

  He'd lurched up in bed, panting like crazy. "But it was an accident," he'd whispered hoarsely, wanting to convince himself of something he already knew. Of course, it had been only a dream, hadn't it? Those words weren't really on her gravestone for the whole world to see, were they? Though, he still half-expected the police to come haul him off to prison.

  A chill raced up Chase's spine as he hurried across the room. He didn't want to think about it anymore. He might not have any power over his dreams, but he would at least do his best to control his thoughts when he was awake.

  He was halfway down the hall when out of the blue he remembered the dream that had awakened him this time. It had been about the night he and everyone else had gone to rescue Janie in Blackshire. He'd been standing at the edge of the cliff where his Aunt Clair had fallen to her death. But why was this so important?

  He closed his eyes and thought back to Halloween night so many months ago: First, they'd gone to the old building where Benjamin had been held prisoner; afterward, they'd gone to the cliff. While standing there, he'd stuck his hands into his pockets and then yanked them out again when it was time to leave. He remembered hearing a slight tinkling sound, but had thought it was someone kicking a stone along the rocky ground. After all, his mind had been on so many different things that night. But now that he came to think of it, it had to have been his lucky race car he'd enchanted with the teleporting power. He'd been so angry at himself for losing it, especially after telling everyone else not to lose any enchanted objects. Oh man, he was such an irresponsible idiot!

  No doubt about it. He had to get his car back! And the only way to do it was to teleport to the cliffs in Blackshire. It wasn't the best idea he'd ever had, but it certainly wasn't the worst. If his car was found by anyone, even non-magical people, they would be able to perform magic with it. That was not a good thing at all.

  Chase ran his hand through his hair and gulped. A teleporting trip to England? He'd never teleported farther than Seattle by himself. Maybe it was reckless, but sheesh, Great Uncle Thomas had teleported himself all around the world when he was a kid, so what was so wrong with Chase doing it, too?

  He rushed back to his room to get his sneakers. As he slipped them on, a small, furry head popped out from under his bedcovers. Maxwell scrambled from the bed and loped across the room.

  Chase had to bite back a yelp when the ferret's sharp claws dug into his skin as the animal scurried up his leg and back to sit on his shoulder. He reached up to scratch Maxwell behind his ears. "Can't go much of anywhere without you, can I?" Chase grumbled.

  With one last glance at the slumbering Andy, he crept from the room. Hurrying through the house to Thomas's magical bathroom, he found himself wishing he still had something enchanted with the teleporting power. It would be nice to have the ability to just zip away without having to go all the way downstairs. But ever since losing his race car, he didn't trust himself any longer to carry objects around with magic in them. Well, except his watch, but that was always on his wrist where he could keep an eye on it.

  Reaching the Teleportation Room, he slipped inside and closed the door. Squaring his shoulders, he took a deep breath and murmured, "The cliffs—"

  Wait. What if I can't do this by myself? he thought with a worried frown. Sometimes his magic wasn't as reliable as he wanted it to be. Maybe he should get Nori to go with him. Combining their magic should get them over there without any difficulties.

  He shook his head. "No. I can do this. I'll prove once and for all my powers are as strong as hers." He just had to stay confident and focused. Besides, he didn't want anyone to know how careless he'd been with his enchanted objects. Closing his eyes, he pictured his destination. "The forest next to the cliffs by Blackshire, England, where Clair fell."

  Swoooooosh! He found himself perched in a tall tree with a sharp branch gouging him in the back. "Ouch! Ouch! Brilliant, Chase!" he grumbled, grabbing onto the trunk as he wobbled back and forth on a thick limb. "Couldn't even get this right, could you?"

  Maxwell hissed angrily as he dug his claws into Chase's shoulder.

  "I know, I know," Chase said between clenched teeth. "Just be thankful it's not dark."

  Glancing downward, he was happy to see they weren't too far up. Since he'd spent most of his life in New York City, tree-climbing hadn't been something he'd had a chance to do much of, but at least he'd had a little practice last summer when he'd been learning to teleport. He'd ended up in a couple trees and had managed to get himself back to the ground then, so he should be okay now. "I hope," he muttered.

  Stretching out his right leg, he tested the strength of the branch below him with the toe of his sneaker. It seemed okay. He clamped his lips together and started down. Birds were chirping and chattering all around him. Most likely telling me to give it up and just go back home where I belong, he thought grumpily.

  But, a few minutes later, he was on the ground with only a scraped arm, a bruised backside, and a long, jagged tear in his pajama pants, something he probably should've changed before leaving home.

  "Okay, Max, here we go," said Chase as he brushed tree bark off his hands and headed off in what he hoped was the right direction.

  A chilly gust of wind caused goosebumps to pop up on his bare arms and brought the scent of salt water and seaweed to him as he approached the end of the woods. The light wind also carried the sounds of waves pounding against the rocks and shore far below the cliff, and something else: a voice.

  Staying in the shadows, Chase tip-toed around some rocks and brush and ducked behind a gnarled tree. His heart pounded as he remembered his premonition from last summer, the one where he'd seen Janie standing on the cliff's edge. Maybe it was coming true now. Maybe he hadn't killed her! The hope that rocketed through him at this thought was almost too much for him to handle.

  Sucking in the fresh sea air to help himself think a little more clearly, he peeked one eye out from behind the tree…but it wasn't Janie. It was James, Janie's older brother. Chase blew out the long breath he'd held in anticipation. Crap! Of all the times to travel to the cliff, it had to be when James was there, too.

  About fifty feet away, James stomped back and forth along the edge of the steep cliff, waving his arms like a crazy person. Cha
se had never seen him so angry. Usually he was just mean and snarly.

  James stopped and stared over the edge. His right arm lengthened, as he used the stretching power he'd inherited from the Tinker side of his two families. He blasted fiery hot, silvery-red energy beams from his fingertips and over the ledge. A booming explosion was followed by hundreds of chunks of rock shooting high into the air.

  "Why'd you have to go and die?" yelled James. "And you never said anything about all this—this family junk! It sure would've been nice to know something. Didn't you even think about what it would do to me and Janie? If we'd known from the start, things might've turned out way different. You and Dad are such liars! I hate you both!" James stared up at the sky for a while before continuing, "I didn't even get the chance to see you before…"

  His shoulders slumped. As he turned to head back in the other direction, Chase thought he saw tears streaming down James's face. Chase's eyebrows shot up. His big, bad cousin crying? How weird was that?

  Chase must have made some noise without realizing it, because James narrowed his eyes and walked closer to the forest. "Who's there?" he shouted. "Come out and face me, you coward!"

  Chase knew teleporting away was the wisest decision, but instead, he stepped out from behind the tree. "It's only me, James. No need to get all testy."

  James's raised eyebrows turned down into a dark scowl. "What are you doing here?" he snapped.

  Chase crossed his arms and grinned. "I'm taking a stroll, is all. What about you, Jamesy-poo, out for your morning cry?" He knew he probably shouldn't be taunting his cousin this way, but he couldn't help himself. The jerk deserved it.

  James swiped his arm across his face and sniffed loudly. "Always the smart-mouth, aren't you?"

  Chase shrugged. "Only when dealing with buttheads like you."

  "Why don't you crawl back under a rock with all the other maggots, stinker?" said James with a wave of his hand. "You don't belong here. Besides, haven't you and your putrid family done enough?"