Deadly Magic

by Skye Melki-Wegner

  Orbit’s face fell. ‘Oh. Well, that’s quite a sad story then, isn’t it?’

  ‘It wasn’t a story, it was a … never mind!’ Riff massaged his forehead. ‘Let’s just go and grab some grub. If we’ve gotta miss out on our mission again, we might as well get some food out of the deal.’

  Dinner, as it turned out, was garden salad with celery sticks, protein paste and brown rice. Riff stared gloomily at his serving, so disheartened that even the gaudy plastic crockery couldn’t cheer him up. He took a sip of wheat-grass juice, plonked down his cup and groaned.

  ‘Oh, come on,’ I said, ‘it’s not that bad.’

  ‘Yeah, it’s not that good, either. If this mission goes well, I reckon Dragon should give us medals of honour just for surviving the week on celery.’

  ‘A bit of salad’s good for you.’ Phoenix swallowed a mouthful of rice. ‘And the rice tastes all right. Stop being such a baby.’

  At that moment, Orbit gasped. Pickles herself was approaching our table, with a cheerful smile on her face. She hefted herself onto the wooden bench beside Orbit and plonked her plate on the table.

  ‘Hullo there!’ she said. ‘Mind if I join you? We’re a bit short on table space tonight; you’ve got a lot more cadets than the New Zealand branch.’

  ‘Of course!’ Orbit said hurriedly, scooting along the seat. ‘We’d be honoured to have you sit with us, ma’am.’

  Pickles threw back her head and laughed. ‘Ma’am!’ she exclaimed, delighted. ‘Oh, it’s been quite a few years since anyone’s called me that. You’re a polite one, aren’t you?’

  Orbit looked uncertain. ‘Er … I do try to be, ma’am. My parents sent me to an etiquette class when I was younger. They said it might make a proper agent out of me, if I knew how to speak to people properly.’

  There was an awkward pause.

  Orbit didn’t often discuss personal matters, but I’d managed to glean a few titbits here and there. His parents were successful field agents in the British branch of HELIX, with a list of heroic missions under their belts. Every agent in London admired them, and expected their son to follow in their footsteps.

  When Orbit chose a career in gadgeteering, his parents’ reactions had hurt him deeply. Sometimes, I wondered if that was the real reason why he’d come back with us to Australia. It had to be painful to look at the faces of your parents and see only disappointment.

  Finally, Pickles nodded and began to shovel food into her mouth. ‘If you ask me, etiquette’s a waste of time. A machine doesn’t care if you call it “sir”, so long as you can grease its cogs.’

  Orbit looked as if he wanted to smile, but wasn’t sure if he was allowed.

  ‘And what are all your names, then?’ Pickles added, through a mouthful of half-chewed rice.

  ‘I’m Riff, and this is Phoenix, and Nomad, and Orbit.’ Riff paused, and then added, ‘Orbit’s a gadgeteer cadet.’

  Orbit squirmed, but he was obviously pleased. I smiled at Riff, recognising the kind gesture for what it was.

  ‘Oh, are you? Excellent!’ Pickles beamed at Orbit like a proud mother. ‘You’ll have to tell me all about the inventions you’re working on, then – and perhaps Dippy and I could show you our laboratory out the back, if you’re interested?’

  Orbit was so overwhelmed that he barely managed to squeak a ‘Yes, please!’ My smile grew wider. If nothing else good came of this mission, at least Orbit had a chance to meet his heroes.

  ‘If you don’t mind me asking,’ Phoenix said, ‘why’s your brother called “Dippy”?’

  We all turned to look at Dippy, who was seated at a table with the Eighteens across the room.

  ‘Well, he called himself “Serendipity” originally,’ Pickles said. ‘He thought it would impress the girls, you see, back when we were cadets.’ She chuckled, as if struck by a sudden memory. ‘Thought it lent him a “debonair quality”, he said. He used to swagger about like a cockerel, all devil-may-care, strutting and sticking out his chin …’

  Across the room, Dippy had just unleashed a mechanical lizard on the dining table. It skittered from side to side, its metal tail flicking, until it landed face-first in a bowl of soggy salad.

  Pickles regarded her brother with a fond smile. ‘Course, two minutes later he’d tripped over his own feet. Didn’t take long for the other cadets to shorten his codename.’

  After dinner, Pickles excused herself to march to the front of the hall. She called for silence, and then made an announcement to the group.

  ‘Your schedule for tomorrow is up on the noticeboard,’ she said. ‘We’ve got a lot of fun activities planned, so make sure you’re up bright and early! In the meantime, tonight, we’ve got a singsong planned around the campfire.’

  As soon as we were dismissed, my friends and I hurried over to examine the noticeboard.

  ‘Oh, look!’ Orbit said, peering at it. ‘Tomorrow afternoon is team orienteering! That should be fun, don’t you think? When you think about it, the deductive reasoning process is rather like engineering, isn’t it? The unravelling of the clues mimics the turning of cogs in a well-oiled machine.’

  ‘Orienteering?’ I asked. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘It’s like a lame treasure hunt,’ Phoenix said, rolling her eyes. ‘You’re supposed to learn to read a map and stuff, and follow directions through the bush …’

  She trailed off. We all stared at each other.

  Riff, who had spent the last few moments hanging levitation circuits around his limbs, took this as a cue to launch into the air. ‘You all thinking what I’m thinking?’

  ‘If you’re thinking we’ve got an excuse to sneak off, then yes,’ I said. My insides were racing. This was it: a chance to escape the group and make our way to Mariner’s cabin. Tomorrow afternoon, we would examine the scene of the crime – and find the clues that might save us all.

  ‘Guess it’s all riding on tomorrow,’ Phoenix said.

  ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘I guess it is.’

  As we headed out of the hall, into the darkness, my gaze found its way to the bushland behind us. The drizzle had thickened into heavy rain. Trees shivered in the evening breeze, damp leaves rustling in the canopy. There could be anything out there, lurking in the shadows.

  Anything, or anyone …

  I huffed a breath, annoyed with myself. Don’t be stupid, Natalie. The last thing I needed now was for my imagination to get carried away.

  But the night was black, and the forest was deep. And as the breeze set the leaves aquiver once more, it was all too easy to imagine a squad of Inductors out there, lurking in the dark.

  The next morning, I stepped outside with a nervous itch in my throat. I stretched my limbs and turned back to face the cabin, waiting for Phoenix.

  My heart stopped.

  Someone had sprayed an enormous letter ‘X’ across our cabin door. For a terrible moment, I thought it was marked in blood – but then I realised it was only paint. As the other girls wandered sleepily out of the cabin, they turned to see what I was staring at. One by one, they stiffened in surprise.

  ‘What the …?’ Melody said, bewildered. ‘Who would do something like that?’

  ‘I can guess,’ Phoenix muttered. ‘Especially after that Combat and Weaponry briefing.’ She stormed forward, fists clenched, and stood in front of Ultra to block her path.

  Ultra glared. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘Your boyfriend’s left you a love note,’ Phoenix said. ‘Right across our cabin door.’

  Ultra eyed the ‘X’ disdainfully. ‘You think Steel did that?’

  ‘Of course he did! And you’re gonna tell him to back off, and stop being such a spoilt brat. If he threatens us again, I’ll –’

  Ultra crossed her arms and sighed, like an impatient teacher dealing with a particularly dense child. ‘I don’t know who left that mark,’ she said, enunciating each word slowly, ‘but it sure wasn’t Steel. This is my cabin too, remember. Do you think he’d threaten me?’

  Phoenix h
esitated.

  Ultra smirked. ‘So much for the heroes of London. I guess you don’t need that many brains to earn yourself a reputation nowadays.’ She stretched out her arms and gave a condescending little yawn. ‘Anyway, I’ve got some breakfast to eat, and a boyfriend to say good morning to. You two have a nice day.’

  She delivered this last part over her shoulder, already walking away. As she departed, she flicked her fingers in a little wave.

  Phoenix looked ready to explode.

  I placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘Don’t. It’s not worth getting in trouble.’

  ‘But she’s just such a …’ Phoenix gritted her teeth. ‘Her and Steel, I swear they’re the most infuriating –’

  ‘I know,’ I said. ‘But they’re not our problem right now. We’ve got bigger fish to fry, remember?’

  To our surprise, Pickles entered the breakfast hall late, with Orbit by her side. He walked with an unusual bounce in his step, looking as if today had been declared his birthday, Christmas morning and payday all at once.

  ‘Morning, cadets!’ Pickles said. ‘Hope you don’t mind I borrowed your friend here. Ran into him on my morning stroll, so I took the chance to show him our laboratory before activities start for the day.’

  ‘It’s simply wonderful!’ Orbit gabbled, sliding onto the seat beside me. ‘Pickles’ cousin works for the medical office at HQ, and he’s provided all sorts of fascinating equipment. There’s an entire shelving system dedicated to bolts and screws, and the quarantine tank for sorcerous experiments is second to none! Why, if only I had my workbooks here, I could finally try my hand at constructing a protean thermonuclear –’

  Phoenix cut him off. ‘Pickles, we need to talk to you. Someone vandalised our cabin door last night. They drew a big “X” on it, like they were trying to frighten us.’

  ‘Oh dear.’ Pickles shook her head. ‘Youthful hijinks, I should think. These sorts of pranks happen quite a lot during camps, you know. Last time we had a group of cadets here, one boy got it into his head to –’

  She was interrupted by a commotion on the far side of the room. Dippy had managed to spill his bowl of tinned peaches on the floor, and one of the older cadets had slipped over on the slimy mess.

  ‘For heaven’s sake …’ Pickles said, sighing. ‘Sometimes, I think my brother was born with his head screwed on backwards.’

  ‘Well, his brain’s probably just occupied with other things,’ I said.

  ‘Oh, I’m sure it is,’ Pickles said. ‘Nuts and bolts, screws and levers. The other cadets used to pick on him, you know, when we were kids. “Ditzy Dippy”, they called him, whenever he caused another mishap.’

  She shook her head. ‘Just a few weeks ago, he managed to injure a young agent who was visiting us. Let loose a swarm of mechanical bees and lost control of the robotic sequencing. You should’ve seen it! The bees had metal stingers, so the poor girl’s there swearing her head off, a bunch of little cuts bleeding on her arm … and there’s Dippy, bumbling around with a polka-dot handkerchief trying to shoo away the bees.’

  ‘I’m sure he didn’t mean it,’ Orbit said, earnestly.

  ‘Of course he didn’t!’ Pickles shook her head fondly. ‘But honestly, that brother of mine … He’s got as much sense in his head as in his jandals.’

  On the far side of the room, Dippy stumbled around in an attempt to clean up his peaches, muttering a string of profuse apologies to the cadet who had slipped. He reminded me of a puppy dog, practically tripping over his own whiskers.

  Not for the first time, I found myself reflecting on the sort of person that HELIX attracted – misfits who might never have found a real home elsewhere. People like Dippy, who were clumsy or awkward. People like Skate, whose head was never entirely fixed in reality. People like Phoenix, whose entire life had been consumed by fighting and vengeance …

  And people like me: the freaks who lived for the thrill of it all.

  I started, taken aback by the ferocity of that last thought. I had no right to judge Dippy for his oddness when I was just as odd myself. I’d chosen this life, hadn’t I? I had rejected a life of safety with my dad, because my insides rushed at the thought of adventure. Because I needed to see the world, to take new risks, to rush into danger …

  I’d never fitted into proper society. Not really. Even in Hollingvale, I’d always felt like an outsider. The girl who played her part, day after day, and tried to convince herself that she was normal.

  ‘… and the flooding, of course,’ Pickles was saying, as she buttered her toast. ‘Hopefully the lower valleys should be accessible again today, and I’d imagine the tourists will finally be heading back into the glow-worm caves.’

  I snapped back to attention. ‘Sorry, what was that?’

  ‘We’ve had a bit of flooding recently,’ Pickles said. ‘Nothing serious, but it isn’t good for the tourist trade. They closed the caves near Waitomo for about a fortnight, just in case, but they’re finally reopening today.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said. ‘That’s good, I guess.’

  ‘Well, it’s important for the region,’ Pickles said. ‘Those caves are the biggest tourist attraction we’ve got around here, so a lot of local businesses rely on it. Anyway, like I was saying …’

  She babbled on about the local economy, but my thoughts had drifted elsewhere. This afternoon, we had to slip away from the group. Dragon had enclosed a map of the region in our case files, and I’d tried to memorise our route during the flight from Melbourne. I ran it through my mind again, picturing each twist and turn of the path.

  ‘And how are you finding the camp so far?’ Pickles asked.

  ‘Oh, it’s great!’ Riff said quickly, and the others nodded their agreement. I joined in, just half a second too late.

  ‘We’re learning lots,’ I said, with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. ‘About wilderness survival and … stuff.’

  ‘And of course, you’ve got orienteering this afternoon,’ Pickles said. ‘That should be fun, shouldn’t it?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Riff said. ‘Yeah, it’ll be good, I reckon.’

  ‘A good test of your sense of direction,’ Pickles added. ‘And your ability to follow clues, of course.’

  I glanced at her, my mind sharpening. Did she know the truth? Had Dragon told her our real mission here? But Pickles’ expression was utterly innocent: just a jolly camp instructor, buoying us up for the day’s activities.

  ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘We’re really looking forward to it.’

  Pickles gave a peculiar smile. ‘Excellent,’ she said. ‘I’m sure your team shall do very well indeed.’

  The morning passed in a blur of activities. The Seventeens and Eighteens departed early on a mountain bike ride, leaving the rest of us at camp. We spent an hour completing an ‘Archery Challenge’, during which I managed to accidentally shish-kabob a log, a hay bale and a nearby tree.

  ‘Oh well,’ Riff said, clapping me on the back. ‘If you ever find yourself fighting Inductors with a bow and arrow, at least you’ll scare the pants off any bystanders.’

  Despite my own abject failure, I enjoyed watching Phoenix trounce Steel’s attempt. Although Steel was excellent at physical fighting, he’d clearly neglected his shooting practice. Phoenix, by contrast, could probably outshoot half the adults at HQ. To cap off her victory, she finished with a flourish by splitting Steel’s arrow down the middle.

  ‘Nice try, Steel,’ she said afterwards, offering him a polite handshake. ‘You put in a really good effort today.’

  Steel ignored her hand and stormed off. I saw Ultra hurrying after him and couldn’t quite suppress a laugh. Behind the pretence of good sportsmanship, there was a cheeky glint in Phoenix’s eye.

  After lunch, we had ten minutes to prepare for our ‘Orienteering Adventure!’ (as it was called on the noticeboard). In an announcement to the group, Pickles advised us to wear comfortable clothes.

  ‘You’ll be hiking for two hours,’ she said, while Dippy handed out an orienteering kit
to each team, ‘so if any of you were stupid enough to pack stilettos, I suggest you leave them in your bags.’

  Ten minutes later, the bearded security guard let us through the camp gates, along with several other teams of cadets. We pretended to study our clue sheet and compass, alongside the others, before stalking off into the bush. Eventually, I judged we’d put enough distance between ourselves and the other teams to speak freely.

  ‘Wish I had my HELIX medallion,’ I said, squinting at the trees. ‘It’d be a lot easier to get around with a holographic map.’

  ‘Ah, but where’s the fun in that?’ Riff said.

  ‘If you think it’s so much fun,’ I said, ‘why don’t you try navigating?’

  ‘Hey, don’t look at me; I get lost on the way to the bathroom.’ Riff perked up. ‘If you want, though, I reckon I could fly over the trees and get a bird’s eye view. Could help find the cottage …’

  ‘Don’t you dare!’ Phoenix said sharply. ‘This is a public place, in broad daylight.’

  Riff glanced around at the bushland, incredulous. ‘Who’s gonna see me, a kiwi bird?’

  As we trudged onwards, Riff began to whistle. I vaguely recognised the tune as an old Led Zeppelin song; he’d played it for me on his guitar a few times, and his melodramatic wailing on the verses always made me laugh.

  As his whistling rose to a higher and higher pitch, however, Phoenix grew visibly irritated. She ground her teeth, walking stiffly – and when Riff finally reached the falsetto part, she stopped walking.

  ‘This is a serious mission,’ she snapped. ‘If we stuff this up, people could die. What on earth are you so cheerful about?’

  ‘It’s a beautiful day.’ Riff shrugged. ‘The sun is shining, the breeze is blowing, the birds are singing …’

  ‘Oh yeah?’ Phoenix raised an eyebrow. ‘Well, if this particular “bird” doesn’t shut up, he’s about to find himself as the inside layer of a turducken.’

  Riff gave her a scandalised look. ‘Hey, that’s cruelty to animals, that is. Tell her, Nomad.’

  ‘You’re calling yourself an animal?’ Phoenix asked.