Simon pulled the hair on the top of his head. “Oh, man. Oh, man. Oh man. This is wild! This is nuts! I think I’m breaking out in hives!”
Tristan took Zoey’s hand, but she pulled it away. He watched her anxiously.
“Zoey, you can’t be serious. Please, think about this for a moment. Just think about what you’re saying—”
“I’ve been thinking about it for five days,” said Zoey. “I need to do this. I’m going to Troll City, and no one’s going to stop me.”
Tristan surveyed her silently for a moment. “Then I’m coming with you.”
“What!” Simon wailed. “Do you hear yourselves? Both of you have lost your minds. You’re crazy, nuts, spazzed, off the wagon, lobotomized. You’re both completely insane.”
“You coming with us?” asked Tristan casually.
Simon responded immediately, “Of course I am.”
The light of adventure burned in his eyes, and he smiled. “This is the kind of stuff that’ll make men out of us. Maybe I’ll come back with real facial hair? Women love that.”
Zoey smiled at her friends. “If things go wrong, don’t blame me.”
“We won’t,” Tristan and Simon chorused together.
“You can still say no—” she began. “—I wouldn’t be upset. I would totally understand.”
“We’re coming with you.”
Tristan fell silent for a second and looked at Zoey. “You’ll need someone to watch your back,” he said finally. “—And Simon can watch mine.”
“So who’s going to watch my back?” said Simon, looking behind him.
“We both will,” answered Zoey.
She lowered her voiced and looked around, “You think you can meet me at midnight tonight in the main hall?”
“Yes,” said Tristan.
“Okay,” answered Simon. “My dad’s going to kill me if he catches me using my mirror-port in the middle of the night.”
Tristan raised an eyebrow. “So don’t let him catch you.”
With Tristan and Simon watching her back, what could possibly go wrong? Zoey felt certain they would find Elizabeth.
“So it’s settled then,” she said, smiling. “See you at midnight.”
There was added security after the Krakenite attacks, so Zoey had sneaked back into the hive before lockdown and had hidden in room 1D. If an agent came by, she would use the excuse that she had homework to catch up on. To make her story more believable, she logged on and did actual work until the numbers at the bottom right of her screen said 12:00 AM.
With her gold boomerang fastened securely to the bracelet around her right wrist, she logged off and quietly closed the door behind her. Holding her breath, she tiptoed on the marble floors and along the dark corridors. She shifted her weight carefully so she wouldn’t make a sound with her sneakers.
The moon shone through the tall windows and turned the walls and floors to shades of silver and blue. The darkness and eerie silence were gloomy.
Footsteps echoed down the hall.
She pressed herself flat against the wall and waited, her heart banging in her ears. The footsteps neared. She stopped breathing and stole a peek.
A young agent patrolled the hallway. He had the determined expression of a rookie who took this job very seriously. Simon and Tristan would be stepping out of the mirrors in the main hall any second now—the agent would see them. It would be her fault if they got caught. They might even get suspended. She needed to distract the agent.
She ran back down the hall and slipped through the door of Room 1D. She hurried over to the weapons table and grabbed a metal ball for one of the slingshots. Then she sprinted back to the door and peeked through to make sure the young agent was still patrolling the hall near the mirrors.
She pitched the tiny ball down the opposite corridor. It hit door 1B with an echo. Then it bounced off the adjacent walls, making even more of a racket as it rolled down the passageway.
Zoey hid behind the door and watched the agent charge into room 1B. While he was occupied, she sneaked down the corridor in the other direction—just in time to see Tristan and Simon step out of a mirror.
“We don’t have much time,” she said catching her breath. “There’s an agent patrolling the corridors. I distracted him, but he’ll be back any second.”
“Oh, man, we’re going to get caught!” whined Simon.
“SHHH!” Tristan put a hand on Simon’s mouth.
“Quiet,” he said in a whisper and then let him go.
Zoey surveyed the end of the hallway. “The coast is clear,” she whispered. “He didn’t hear us,”—she glowered at Simon—“But we have to hurry. We need to find the mirror that will get us to Troll City.”
With Tristan and Simon on the left side, and Zoey on the right, the three of them began to examine the walls of mirrors, searching for the one they needed. Within seconds she found an inscription that read, United States of America. She knew that Louisiana was a southern state. This was the one.
“Found it,” she said. Tristan and Simon moved next to her. She glanced at her friends, trying not to look as excited as she felt.
“Ready? You guys ready? It’s now or never.”
“You sure this is going to work?” asked Simon nervously. “I mean—maybe they don’t have a mirror-port anchor in Troll City? It makes sense. They hate us there anyway. What if we mirror-port into the mouth of a giant angry mystic? Have you thought of that?”
“We’re not going to mirror-port into the mouth of some giant mystic. The mirror should be able to tell us right away.”
Zoey stepped up to the side panel and typed:
Troll City, Louisiana, USA.
She waited—her stomach in knots—she didn’t trust herself to look at Tristan or Simon. What if Simon was right? What if Troll City didn’t have an anchor? How would she ever get there? It’s not like she had any money to take a bus or an airplane.
Before she could have a panic attack, there was a sudden buzzing, and then the green light came on above the mirror with a click. The mirror hummed softly. The inside glowed with silver light and rippled like tiny waves on a pond.
“It actually worked?” said Tristan inspecting the mirror.
He didn’t realize how loud his voice resonated in the hallway. “I had my doubts. I didn’t think the agency would even have a mirror-port to that city.”
“But they did.” Zoey exhaled. “You guys ready?”
“HEY! YOU THERE! STOP!”
The young agent came running at top speed. His face was flushed, and he looked very angry.
“People—” said Simon, with a hint of tension in his voice, “—if we don’t move now, this charming young fella is going to get us.”
“It’s now or never,” said Zoey excitedly. “You can still back out—it’s not too late.”
“Never,” said Tristan, “We’re coming.”
“Then come on!” Without another second to lose, Zoey climbed into the mirror and vanished from the great hall.
Chapter 13
Troll City, Louisiana
A second later, Zoey stood in a swamp area with moss-draped trees and shallow waterways. The trees were tall and curved with roots like knees that grew out from the trunk above the high water level. The humid air felt like a hot shower. Birds chirped happily and rays of sunlight escaped through breaks between the moss-covered branches. The waterways curved around small islands of muck and thick green vegetation.
The waters moved. Zoey froze, her breath caught in her throat. Was that an alligator?
Then something hard crashed into her back, and she fell face first into the mucky ground. She lifted her head and spit frog-smelling earth from her mouth.
“That is so gross.”
“Sorry,” laughed Simon as he rolled off Zoey. “But thanks for the soft landing.”
“You’re welcome,” growled Zoey. She spit more of the grimy earth from her mouth.
“Here, take my hand.” Tristan helped Zoey to her fe
et.
Zoey wiped her face clean with her sleeve. She didn’t want to think about what she had tasted on her tongue. Her jeans and t-shirt had great brown and green stains like she had rolled in the mud for fun. It was not at all what she had wanted to look like for her first encounter with her mother. But it was too late to go get changed now—her stinky self would have to do. She had half the notion to ask Simon for his clean t-shirt, but decided against it.
Behind her, an old dresser mirror was nailed to the trunk of a great tree. The edges were cracked, and it was streaked with yellow and rusted stains like a mirror you would find in an old antique shop. Zoey pointed to it. “There’s the anchor. So agents have been here before.”
“Looks like it,” agreed Tristan. “Or just other Sevenths.”
Zoey inspected the mirror more closely. “Do you think they still use it in secret? From what Agent Vargas was saying—I didn’t think they’d be coming anywhere near this place.”
“Maybe just to keep tabs on the mystics,” said Simon. “We still need to monitor them—to make sure they’re following the rules like the rest of us.”
“But we’re breaking the rules.” Zoey smiled.
“Look, I think there’s a path over there.” Tristan pointed to a break in the trees. It opened to a path of leaves and green mosses, and led away from the anchor. “Let’s follow it.”
Zoey went first. The path followed a dark green waterway. It made her feel uneasy, like anything could be lurking underneath. They moved quietly because their footsteps were absorbed by the soft vegetation, and Zoey felt like she was walking into some sort of fantasyland. The air was still and thick. Sweat trickled down her back, and she began to think that perhaps she had overdressed.
“So what are you going to say to her, if you find Elizabeth?” asked Tristan, breaking the silence.
Zoey stepped over a dead tree carefully.
“I don’t know. I haven’t thought that far yet.” Her stomach tightened at the thought.
What would she say? What if her mother didn’t even want to see her? Secretly, that was her worst fear— that her parents had abandoned her fourteen years ago because they didn’t want her. She forced the thought out of her head and kept moving.
As they walked in silence, Tristan kept giving her looks, like he was trying to start up a conversation. But each time he opened his mouth, he would shut it again and look away with a frustrated expression. She knew she shouldn’t dwell on Tristan’s behavior too much. The truth was that she wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about him.
After about a half hour of walking, they could still see no end to the path. It seemed to go on forever. And the bugs were having a fiesta with their blood.
Smack!
“I swear these are vampire mosquitoes. They’re ginormous,” said Simon as he squished another bug into a smear of blood between his eyebrows.
“These are not the normal mosquitoes we have back home. I think they’re genetically engineered—like the African killer bees I saw on a report on the National Geographic channel. I’m going to get sick. I’m going to get malaria.”
“You’re not going to get malaria,” said Tristan lazily, and rolled his eyes at Zoey who laughed.
“How would you know?” Simon pointed to a large mosquito on his arm.
“Look! Look at the girth of this thing—that’s no regular mosquito! That’s like the Bigfoot of mosquitoes—these are bloodsucking man-eaters.”
“Just keep moving and close your mouth,” said Zoey with a twinkle in her eye. “You wouldn’t want to inhale any of them—”
A splash came from the stream.
Zoey stopped and looked over at the water. The circular ripple dissipated, and the water was still again. There was nothing there. But her seventh sense didn’t lie, and her skin was riddled in goose bumps.
“What is it?” Tristan stood next to her eyeing the water. “I don’t see anything. And I’m not getting any senses either.”
Zoey shook her head. “I don’t know. I thought I heard a splash or something coming from the water—and I felt something—I’m sure of it.”
“Well, I don’t see, sense, or hear anything,” said Simon looking over Zoey’s shoulder. “You’re sure you don’t have mosquitoes in your ears? Hang on—I think I see one of them in there.”
Zoey smacked Simon’s hand. “Hey! Don’t put your finger in my ear! You’re totally crazy.”
“That’s what I keep telling people,” said Simon proudly.
Tristan turned away from the water. “Well, whatever it was, it’s gone now. Let’s keep moving.”
Splash. Gallooop!
Zoey and the others froze.
“I heard that,” whispered Simon. “What was it?”
The waters around them exploded.
A gigantic creature rose out of the murky waters and heaved itself onto shore.
It looked like a mixture between a frog and fish, with scales and slimy looking green skin. It had huge bulbous eyes and a globular head with a large gaping mouth. Vegetation and moss sprouted from its back, like protective armor, and frogs and other slimy creatures slid off of its back as though it were shedding. It was the size of a hippopotamus, and its wet yellow eyes glared at them with hatred.
Simon bent down and grabbed a stick.
“Hey doggy, doggy, that’s a good boy. You want the stick? Do ya? Here, go fetch.” He tossed the stick into the swamp.
The creature’s eyes didn’t move.
“It’s not a dog, stupid,” said Tristan in a low voice.
“I know that,” snapped Simon, “but no one else was doing anything!”
“What is it?” asked Zoey, the creature’s stare was making her feel uneasy.
“It’s a Grohemoth, a swamp mystic,” said Tristan. “They’re from a herd group, which means there’s a lot more out there.”
“That’s just great. Is it a friend or a hostile?”
“Hostile.”
“Figures,” said Zoey. She screwed up her face. “Yuck, can you smell that?”
“Sorry, I had chili for lunch,” said Simon, with a lopsided grin.
Zoey pretended she hadn’t heard what he just said. “No—I mean the creature. It smells like a public toilet.”
With another splash two more identical Grohemoths heaved themselves out of the swamp. The swamp creatures quickly circled around them and boxed them in. Before they knew it, they were trapped. They would have to fight their way out.
“Oh goody, now we have one for each of us.” Tristan pulled out his S9 slingshot and armed it with a miniature wooden arrow that looked homemade.
“Stand back to back, and stick together.”
Zoey’s eyes watered as the onion smelling gas from the beasts burned her retinas. She blinked through her tears. The Grohemoths watched without blinking.
“Well, it was nice knowing you guys,” said Simon. “I was really hoping to graduate to agent in a few years—I’ve been working on my speech—you want to hear it?”
“Not right now, no.” Zoey unfastened her boomerang, flipped it open, and aimed it at the nearest Grohemoth.
“We’re going to make it. I’m not letting these giant freak salamanders kill us.”
The creatures seemed to understand her, and with a wet growl the three Grohemoths attacked.
Tristan fired first.
His short arrow punctured a charging beast’s eye. The eye exploded in a yellow liquid, like egg yolk, and the beast wailed in pain and went sprawling.
Simon loaded his slingshot with a steel ball and fired at the second Grohemoth—but he missed the target by five feet.
“Ooops,” Simon pointed at the beast. “You can’t blame me for that. The thing moved! I swear.”
Zoey hurled her boomerang and hit the creature in the head with such brute force that it collapsed on the wet ground like a dead tree. The gold boomerang glittered in the sun’s rays as it ricocheted back to Zoey.
The third Grohemoth leaped over its stunned bre
thren. It dove at them like a giant whale, ready to swallow them whole.
Both Zoey and Tristan fired at the same time.
Tristan’s arrow perforated the creature’s abdomen, and Zoey’s boomerang hit its massive neck with a sickening crack—but the beast didn’t flinch and kept coming.
“MOVE!” Tristan pushed Zoey and Simon out of the way, but he collided with the great mystic himself and disappeared underneath it.
“Tristan!” Zoey caught her boomerang and then started forward to help him, but her right foot was stuck.
She was yanked hard to the ground by a green tongue that was wrapped around her ankle. It pulled her at a frightening speed towards the great wet mouth of the Grohemoth she thought she had already killed. Its yellow eyes widened with delight as it dragged her closer—she thought she could almost see it smile.
She could hear Tristan yelling, and the sound of fists hitting flesh.
She grabbed at the soft ground, desperate to stop herself, but it was no use. She tried to pry the tongue from her ankle, but her fingers kept slipping, and she couldn’t get a decent hold. In seconds she would be frog-meat or salamander-meat, whatever it was. She was too close to it. She needed more space to throw her boomerang.
The great mouth opened wider, and she stared inside it helplessly.
She did the only thing that she could. She grabbed her boomerang so that the opposite wing pointed out like a dagger and stabbed into the soft flesh inside the beast’s enormous mouth. Green blood spurted into her face, blinding her, and the Grohemoth let go with a howl of pain. Zoey jumped back and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. Much to her horror, she had only angered it more. It lunged again.
Zoey threw her boomerang, but the Grohemoth saw it just in time and ducked. The boomerang missed, circled back, and she caught it. Without stopping, she shot it again. This time the creature dodged it easily, as though it sensed where the boomerang was going to go.
And in the next moment, the Grohemoth was on her.
Zoey spun and kicked out as hard as she could. The Grohemoth went sprawling to the ground, but it scrambled to its feet, and hissed and spit at her as it advanced again. She was ready this time.
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