The Candy Shop War, Vol. 2: Arcade Catastrophe

by Brandon Mull

  “Correct,” Mr. Stott replied. “If you eat it, you will transform into a Kodiak bear, the largest of the brown bears.”

  “Awesome,” Trevor approved.

  Mr. Stott placed the bear cracker back inside the box. “Your bond to the simulacrum Jonas White produced corresponds directly to your physical form. While you remain in an altered shape, your simulacrum should prove useless. The transformation will only last for about half an hour. When you revert to your actual shape, you will become vulnerable again.”

  “What other animals do you have?” Trevor asked.

  “I’ve cooked up a mountain gorilla, a golden eagle, a great white shark, a Siberian tiger, a gray wolf, and the Kodiak bear. I made two of each. The effort stretched me to my limits. I want to retain one set for whoever loses the next competition.”

  “So I get to go with Victor?” Trevor verified.

  “It won’t be a picnic,” Victor warned.

  “I bet,” Trevor said. “You guys don’t usually go after magicians in their lairs.”

  “Not ideally,” Victor said. “However, this lair is more vulnerable than some. By taking prisoners and holding them in his lair, Jonas White has reduced his claim on the space, weakening his entitlement to protective magic. The more prisoners he holds, the more fragile his barriers become. Parts of Arcadeland are open to the public, which further weakens the lair. Plus, a Simulcrist needs to leave certain barriers down in order for his simulacra to stay connected with their targets.”

  “Still, Jonas White is an old magician with plenty of skill,” Ziggy said. “He has help from several engineered apprentices, and we can count on him to have a number of other tricks up his sleeve.”

  “That means Victor will need help,” Trevor said. “I’m coming. I have to help my friends.”

  “They could use all the help they can get,” Ziggy said. “We haven’t confronted a threat like Jonas White in quite some time. The world is in big trouble.”

  “Your clothes will be absorbed into the animal you become,” Mr. Stott explained. “Small items on your person as well. After you spend half an hour as a tiger, for example, you’ll revert to your true form, fully dressed with all of your gear.”

  “Definitely beats having to streak across town looking for clothes,” Trevor said gratefully. “So I can keep extra crackers with me, and eat another as soon as I become human again?”

  “That is exactly what I would suggest,” Mr. Stott approved. “The longer you spend in your human form, the more opportunity you’ll give Jonas to attack you with your simulacrum. Keep the Bestial Biscuits handy.”

  “Are we ready to go?” Trevor asked.

  “I believe so,” Mr. Stott said, looking to Victor.

  Ziggy began to age, shrink, and droop. Victor swelled with new muscle, gaining several inches of stature. His face became more youthful and chiseled. His suit coat looked ready to burst. He rolled his head on his thick neck, producing snaps and pops.

  “I’m ready now,” Victor said.

  Ziggy sagged into a chair, wiping sweat from his brow.

  “You all right?” Victor asked.

  Ziggy nodded sluggishly. “I figured you could use all that I could spare. I’ll be fine. You’re the one heading into the thick of it.”

  “You’ll probably want to start as an animal that can ride in a car,” Mr. Stott advised Trevor. “Victor can have a second biscuit ready for when you storm Arcadeland.”

  “Will I still feel like myself?” Trevor asked.

  “Losing yourself in your new form is an inherent risk of shape-shifting,” Mr. Stott said. “I’ve taken some measures to limit the risks. I modified the animals so that their senses will feel closer to what you’re used to experiencing. The minds of the animals will react as if under the influence of Brain Feed, which should allow your mental processes to remain unclouded. The limited time you’ll spend as each creature will also help you retain your self-possession.”

  “Okay, let’s do it,” Trevor said. “I guess I’ll start as a wolf.”

  Mr. Stott rummaged in the box. “Let me find the right biscuit.”

  “Why call them biscuits?” Trevor wondered.

  “Here in America, biscuits are fluffy,” Mr. Stott said. “In Britain, biscuits are like cookies or crackers.”

  “Are you British?”

  “Not particularly.” He held out a cracker to Trevor. “I guess I liked the alliteration—Bestial Biscuits.”

  Trevor accepted the biscuit. “You want to give Victor the box?”

  “I’ll give you the box,” Mr. Stott said. “It should disappear along with your clothes and remain with you. But let’s give Victor the biscuit you want to use inside Arcadeland. Eat it the moment you change out of your wolf form.”

  “What should I use?” Trevor asked Victor.

  “I’m no animal expert,” Victor said. “Gorilla, bear, or tiger all sound good.”

  “I guess bear,” Trevor said. “It seems big and heavy and strong. A tiger seems better outside. A bear could bulldoze through those halls. Hopefully I’ll be able to help you knock down doors and intimidate the bad guys.”

  “I like it,” Victor said, accepting the bear cracker from Mr. Stott. “Let’s get rolling.”

  Trevor put the wolf biscuit in his mouth. It tasted like cinnamon shortbread, but it was a little too chalky for him to call it delicious. When he swallowed, his entire body burned and tingled. His arms and legs shortened as he fell forward. His nose and mouth elongated into a muzzle, his ears shifted higher up his head, a tail sprouted from his rear, and fur emerged all over his body.

  By the time his front paws hit the ground, the rapid transformation felt complete. Trevor could feel new strength in his jaws. His eyesight seemed pretty much unchanged. He sensed a new spectrum of aromas rising from the carpet, as well as distinct odors coming from Mr. Stott and the Battiatos. Faint sounds that he hadn’t noticed before came to him clearly, like the news on the TV in the family room. Trevor stretched his back and lifted his paws. The new form felt surprisingly natural.

  “Quick change,” Ziggy said.

  “How do you feel?” Mr. Stott asked.

  “Great,” Trevor said. “My hearing is sharper. I’m picking up new smells. I want to run.”

  “I wouldn’t mind being in motion myself,” Victor said. “Follow me.”

  Victor led the way out of the room, down from the apartment, and out the back of the candy shop. The pungent aromas coming from the display cases of sweets were almost too much for Trevor, but he liked how smoothly he could move on all fours.

  Trevor paused after exiting the candy shop. What if Mr. Stott was wrong? What if Jonas White managed to attack Trevor with his simulacrum while he was in wolf form? Trevor supposed it was possible, but he had to take the risk.

  Victor opened the passenger door to the van, and Trevor hopped inside, reflecting that without fingers it would have been almost impossible for him to work the handle. Victor came around and slid in behind the wheel, moving the seat back a little to accommodate his larger physique.

  “Do we have a strategy?” Trevor asked.

  “I considered ramming the van through the front doors,” Victor replied. “I decided that might be a little dramatic, plus we could needlessly injure ourselves. It’s nearly eleven. Arcadeland will be closed. We’ll go in on foot, probably through a side door. I’m not sure how we’ll access the basement. We’ll have to improvise. Plan to storm in and play rough.”

  This late there was only modest traffic on the roads. With every moment that passed, Trevor gained confidence that Jonas couldn’t harm him. He felt eager to be in motion and squirmed restively as they made their way to the arcade. At length, Victor eased to a stop a block from Arcadeland.

  “Now we wait?” Trevor asked.

  “We get out of the van,” Victor said, opening his door. “Then we wait for you to return to normal and instantly make you a bear.”

  Victor closed his door and walked around the van. He
opened Trevor’s door and let him jump down. They walked to a quiet alleyway.

  Trevor could smell a discarded ketchup packet, old gum, and dozens of subtler scents. He followed Victor into the dark alley, aware of how the pads on his feet felt against the asphalt.

  “How much longer?” Trevor asked.

  Victor checked his watch. “If it lasts half an hour, we need to wait at least ten more minutes.”

  “If I eat the bear biscuit now I guess we risk mixing magic,” Trevor said.

  “Right. We have to hold off. No telling what would happen otherwise.”

  “And I guess we shouldn’t get much closer,” Trevor said.

  “Smarter to wait,” Victor said. “I could scout ahead and open the door, but I might get discovered and ruin our surprise. We’ll go together, a guy and his bear.”

  The conversation died. Victor seemed content to stand with his hands in his pockets. Trevor paced back and forth, sniffing at the more interesting scents.

  When Trevor finally transformed, there was little warning. His body became hot and tingly—then he was on his hands and knees, fully clothed, the box of animal crackers in his hand.

  Victor was immediately at his side, the bear biscuit in hand. Trevor chomped it down, hoping Jonas White wouldn’t sense his availability in time to work any magical mischief.

  Again heat rushed through him as his body fleshed out and expanded. His muscles ballooned, covered by layers of fat and shaggy fur. Rising up on his hind legs, Trevor looked down at Victor, surprised to stand so much taller than the burly investigator.

  “That’s more like it,” Victor said. “Feeling good?”

  Trevor dropped down to all fours. “I feel big.” He padded forward, heavy muscles bulging across his back. His hearing had lost some of its edge, but if anything his sense of smell was keener. “Jonas White better watch out.”

  “Don’t get too cocky,” Victor said, walking beside him. “The guy is a magician. We’ll keep things quiet for as long as we can. When they come after us, don’t be shy about letting them have it. Tonight we’re playing for keeps. We have to find Mozag and get him out.”

  “What about John?” Trevor asked. “What about Pigeon?”

  “On our priority list, they rank a distant second,” Victor said. “I mean them no disrespect, but Pigeon and John probably can’t stop Jonas White. Mozag probably can. We need him to fix this mess and save the others.”

  “Okay,” Trevor agreed. “But if we can save all three?”

  “We save all three. Don’t get me wrong. John and Pigeon could help us fight our way out. I value them. I’d love to spring them as well. But we need to go in with our priorities straight. Once this gets started, I expect things will move quickly. We won’t have lots of time to ponder our options.”

  “Got it,” Trevor said.

  “This way,” Victor said, speeding up to a run.

  Trevor increased his pace. He was not as light on his feet as before, but he could still move rapidly. He expected that at full speed he could easily outrace Victor.

  They slowed as they reached Arcadeland. Producing a couple of tools, Victor went to work on a nondescript door. Trevor could hardly believe how quickly he opened it.

  “Did you used to be a burglar?” Pigeon asked.

  Victor shrugged. “You work as an investigator for almost a hundred years, you pick up a trick or two. Get in there.”

  Trevor squeezed through the doorway, brushing the frame on both sides. The main lights were off, leaving the flickering displays of various games to illuminate the room. Trevor smelled no people, but some delicious fragrances beckoned him toward the snack bar.

  “Stay with me,” Victor said, trotting past Trevor toward an EMPLOYEES ONLY door across the arcade. Upon arrival, Victor found the door locked, but he again used his tools to remedy the problem.

  With the door open, they could hear an alarm blaring. “What did we do?”

  “We’re both magically altered,” Victor said. “We probably tripped a warning system as soon as we entered. I bet Jonas didn’t want that kind of alarm heard in the public areas.”

  “What now?” Trevor asked.

  Victor withdrew a tranquilizer pistol. “We hurry.”

  Trevor pressed through the doorway and followed Victor down an industrial hall lined with pipes and wires. His ursine body almost felt too large for the relatively narrow passage.

  “Any idea how to get down a level?” Victor asked.

  “I’ve never been down there,” Trevor said. “Nate mentioned an elevator.”

  Victor tried every door they passed. The first three were unlocked. He poked his head in, then proceeded down the hall. The fourth door was locked.

  Tucking his pistol under his arm, Victor went to work with his tools. The door swung open and he leaned through the doorway. “Bingo.”

  “Elevator?” Trevor asked.

  “Stairs.”

  Victor passed through the doorway. As Trevor started through, he paused, catching the distinct scent of a person other than Victor. The odor came from the far corner of the landing, where nobody was standing.

  “There’s a guy in that corner,” Trevor said. “I can smell him.”

  For a moment, the air in the corner shimmered, then Todd materialized, charging forward with an upraised baseball bat. Thanks to the warning from Trevor, Victor had already turned to confront the attacker. Stepping toward Todd, the beefy investigator caught the bat in his palm before the swing had reached full momentum. A measured blow from Victor’s elbow sent the smaller, thinner man skidding to the floor. Bending over, Victor seized Todd by the front of his shirt and dragged him to his feet. Todd’s eyes kept darting nervously at Trevor.

  “You like my bear?” Victor asked, shaking him. “Bears are omnivorous. They’ll eat just about anything. Even malnourished little twits like you.”

  “It sounds like a kid,” Todd said, failing to keep his composure.

  “It bites like a steel trap,” Victor promised, still gripping Todd by the front of his shirt. “Who are you?”

  “I just work here,” Todd said.

  Victor lifted Todd upward so he had to stand on his tiptoes. With his free hand, Victor messed up Todd’s green faux hawk. “You just work here? What are you supposed to be? The invisible custodian who cleans the stairs with his baseball bat?”

  “Not invisible,” Todd corrected. “Unnoticed. I’m good at blending if people haven’t seen me.”

  “Then you sneak up behind them and knock them out,” Victor said. “You blew it, pal. I’ve seen you. And my sidekick can smell you. Take us to Mozag.”

  “Who’s that?” Todd asked.

  “He’s the reason you can still walk and talk. Are you sure you want to take away my one motive for keeping you functional?”

  “I’ve heard of him,” Todd admitted.

  “You feel fragile. I’ve always wanted to see my bear dance on a skinny little guy like you.”

  Trevor lumbered toward Todd and started sniffing him. Todd smelled strongly of beef jerky and potato chips. He tried to flinch away from Trevor, but Victor wouldn’t let him. Trevor nuzzled him roughly.

  “Don’t waste one more second of my time, deadbeat,” Victor threatened. “Now or never.”

  “I’ll take you,” Todd said. “But you have to make it look like you’re dragging me there, or no deal. You won’t get Mozag out, no matter how many steroids you take, no matter how big a bear you use as backup. This is Jonas White’s lair, man.”

  Victor shifted his grip to Todd’s upper arm. “Let’s go. Double time.”

  Trevor trailed Victor and Todd down multiple flights of stairs until they reached a door at the bottom. Victor opened the door and yanked Todd through. As Trevor followed, a blur from the side streaked across his line of sight, striking Victor on the side of his shoulder and sending him sprawling.

  The attacker was a muscular man with spiky black hair. He turned to face Trevor defiantly.

  “Watch out,�
�� Victor warned. “He’s a Combat Kinetic—a ComKin.”

  This concrete hallway was wider and taller than the one upstairs. Trevor reared up on his hind legs, towering over the man. Sneering, the ComKin jumped forward, kicking both legs into Trevor’s furry chest with sudden ferocity. The blow landed before Trevor could react. It felt like he had been hit with a sledgehammer. Trevor stumbled back, slamming his head against the side of the doorway on his way to the floor.

  “Nice, Conner,” Todd said.

  Trevor heard Victor start firing tranquilizer darts. Conner dodged from side to side, moving in quick, precise bursts, gradually worked his way down the hall toward Victor. Rolling over, Trevor saw Todd running off down the hall. Casting his pistol aside, Victor retreated from Conner, arms raised defensively.

  Conner darted forward, his hands a blur as he issued blow after blow. Unable to divert the rapid onslaught, Victor staggered back like the victim of a machine gun, barely staying on his feet until Conner sent him flying with a vicious kick.

  Roaring, Trevor tore down the hall. It felt good to get some speed behind his bulk. Turning, Conner looked alarmed. As Trevor reached out with his front claws, Conner jumped against the wall, then kicked off and sprang over the charging bear.

  Trevor wheeled around just in time to receive a fierce kick to the head that knocked him onto his side. The stunning blow made a primal anger well up inside of him.

  “Stay on him,” Victor advised, charging forward. As he drew near to Conner, Victor twisted sideways just in time to avoid a supercharged flying kick. Having dodged the extended foot, Victor stuck out an arm in time to clothesline Conner and tackle him to the floor.

  Grunting and scuffling, the two men wrestled until Trevor approached from behind and bit down hard on the top of Conner’s shoulder. Trevor shook his head to the side, slamming Conner into the wall. The ComKin went limp in his jaws.

  “Good work,” Victor said, brushing off his suit. “It’s all about timing with a ComKin. You have to anticipate and counter the attack before it comes. Otherwise they move too quickly and hit too hard.”

  “Are you all right?” Trevor asked.

  “I’ll have some bruises,” Victor said, spitting blood onto the floor. “Todd ran off that way.” He motioned down the hall.