Harley Merlin 19: Persie Merlin and the Door to Nowhere

by Bella Forrest

  Charlotte rounded on us. “No way. You two are going straight to Victoria’s office for stealing Institute property.”

  “We didn’t steal anything! Do you think I’d have shown it to you if we had?” I held the puzzle box to my chest, in case she tried to take it. We didn’t have enough to lose one. “Look, we really are trying to help. Naomi gave us these—after a lot of persuading, I might add—because I have to learn to get my ability under control. That means being able to capture what I Purge. I know these pixies better than anyone, and doing my part is the best thing I can do for myself, your friend, and the Institute right now.”

  Charlotte hesitated and I watched a flurry of emotions skitter across her face, morphing between fury, confusion, sadness, pain, and something else. Understanding, maybe? It could’ve been wishful thinking, but I wanted to believe that Charlotte had some faith in me. In a lot of ways, we weren’t so different.

  “Charlotte, you and I are in the same boat.” I paused, hoping I was hitting the right nerve. If she didn’t buy this, I’d be back in Victoria’s office sooner than I wanted. “We both have a lot to live up to. Expectations that we didn’t ask for. And we both care deeply for our best friends. I’m trying to meet those expectations, but I can’t do that if you don’t help us to help you.”

  Charlotte frowned, her hard eyes scrutinizing me.

  Should I have kept quiet? Only she had the answer.

  She unleashed a frustrated sigh. “Do you really think you can make a difference in finding Xanthippe?”

  “Yes.” For the first time in a while, I spoke with genuine confidence. One way or another, I felt certain my pixies were the key to solving this.

  Her teary eyes held my firm gaze. “Fine, but if you screw up the hunt, I’ll turn you in. Just stay out of everyone’s way and focus on catching the pixies.” She looked over at the door leading to the building. “I need to get to Victoria’s office. There’ll be another briefing now that she’s put us on high alert.”

  “But you won’t say anything?” Genie interjected.

  “No, I won’t.” She shook her head, like she couldn’t believe what she was doing. “I get why you want to do this, and we need as many hands on deck as possible. People who know the enemy. You Purged them. They might listen to you, or at least come out of hiding for you.”

  They’re not the enemy. I held my tongue to avoid shattering this fragile treaty.

  Charlotte walked away, her shoulders slumped. The walk of a weary woman. I watched her go, my chest uneasy. “Do you think she’ll tell Victoria?”

  “I hope not, for both our sakes.”

  I put the puzzle box back in my bag. “Well, one thing I know for certain is that Victoria just threw a massive wrench in the works. How’re we supposed to sneak around, hunting pixies, if everyone who isn’t a hunter is on lockdown?”

  “Carefully.” Genie flashed me a reassuring grin. One of her best ones.

  “And what about this other magical?” I readjusted the strap of my bag. “I might’ve believed the pixies were responsible for one disappearance. But two? I don’t buy it at all. These monsters are new to the Institute. They wouldn’t have a clue where to hide two people.”

  Genie looked away. “How can you be sure?”

  “I’ve got a… weird sense about it. Like, I can feel they’re confused, and they’re frightened, but I don’t feel any malice.” I didn’t know how else to put it. Like the gargoyle in the training room, it was like our emotions were running parallel, giving me a vague sense of how they were feeling—though it was, admittedly, a distant sense.

  “You’re certain?” Genie still didn’t look at me.

  I nodded. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more certain.”

  “Then… things don’t add up,” she agreed, with a note of reluctance that threw me slightly. Had they gotten to her, too? I guessed the fact that she was still standing at my side meant she had some faith in what I said. I hoped it prevailed, because I didn’t know what I would do if I lost my last source of support.

  I drew a lungful of fresh air. “Why is no one suspecting someone closer to home— someone who’d know where to hide abductees? In true crime shows, nine times out of ten the murderer is someone who knew the victim.”

  “Don’t go throwing the ‘M’ word around, Pers. We don’t know that they’re dead, yet.” Genie urged me toward the door. “But I think you’re onto something. All we’ve got to do is clear the pixies’ name before anyone will listen to alternatives.”

  If only it were that easy.

  The stakes had risen with the addition of a new missing person, but that was all the more reason to keep going. I wouldn’t sit in my room and leave it to hunters who had no emotional link with the pixies and obeyed the party line of “capture at all costs.” The connection between my creations and the disappearances seemed murky at best, but we wouldn’t change anyone’s mind by arguing. We needed hard evidence, which would prove tricky to find if my wayward beasties kept up the Houdini act. Or worse, if the Institute caught them all and sent them away before I could gain their trust and get answers.

  “Help me out, wherever you are,” I whispered to the orchard. “Help me to help you, or we might all end up in a box.”

  Fifteen

  Persie

  I took refuge in Samuel Beckett after a fruitless day of pixie-searching and hunter-avoidance. Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better. Considering we were supposed to be on lockdown, there had been a few close calls with the black-suits, but Genie’s bag of tricks had gotten us out undetected. I owed her expert thief of a grandfather a huge debt. If I ever went to Atlantis, I’d pay homage.

  “Why won’t you come out?” I asked my bedroom, though I’d already checked the place twice for any lingering critters. Now, I sat at my desk in the glow of my last lamp, the sun having gone down hours ago. If I’d known yesterday how much things would change in the space of twenty-four hours… Well, what would I have done? Maybe I’d have tried to block the door or opened the window to let the pixies out. Maybe I’d have done the exact same thing. Maybe I’d have just called Victoria from the outset, though her talk of turning the pixies into ‘specimens’ had confirmed that we viewed things differently. It had confirmed why I’d tried to catch them alone in the first place, too. For their sake. If only life were like a painting or a sketch, where I could swipe white paint over the bits I didn’t like or erase the wonky parts and start fresh. But reality didn’t allow for do-overs.

  At a loss, I took out my phone and called home. It rang twice, and my mom’s face appeared in fuzzy hologram. Truthfully, I had an ulterior motive for calling her. If she could just give me an iota of intel that I could link to the disappearance of the magicals here, that would be a heck of a start to my alternative abduction theories.

  “It must be Christmas, getting two calls in two days!” She grinned, and my heart felt a tiny bit lighter. “How are you feeling, sweetheart? You hung up rather abruptly last night. Everything okay with the… taco incident?”

  I nodded. “I managed to sleep it off, though you should see the bathroom. It looks like a colony of bats had a fiesta in there.” I couldn’t bring myself to tell her about the Purge or the missing people, so I bent the story slightly. If you squinted really hard, a pixie could pass for a brightly-colored, really skinny, humanoid bat.

  “Lovely.” My mom pulled a funny, disgusted face. “I hope you’re drinking plenty of fluids and sugary things to get your electrolytes back up?”

  I chuckled. “Lots of tea. The Irish love their tea.”

  “Tell me about it. Your dad used to go crazy whenever he came back from a trip to the motherland—he’d have crates of Barry’s Tea and bottles of red lemonade in his luggage. Weird stuff, but apparently it’s a huge deal over there. Maybe you could get a bottle to help your tummy?” She leaned closer to the camera, as though she could reach me through it.

  “I’m already much better,” I promised, which wasn�
�t a complete lie. The effects of the Purge had worn off after I’d gotten my three hours of sleep this morning, and I only had a few aches here and there to suggest I’d Purged at all. Aside from what came out of me, the recovery time on Purging appeared to be the second biggest surprise of this ability. With the banshee, it took days; with the griffin, the hydra, and the gargoyle, it had been hours; and with the others, I was more or less fine immediately afterward. I guessed it depended on the power of the monster. Sure, I’d Purged lots of pixies, but maybe their cumulative power wasn’t as big as other things I’d created.

  I wanted to tell my mom everything, but she’d only have worried. And not the usual motherly worry, either. She’d have been battering down the mirrors and trying to take over Victoria’s investigation before I could even end the call. I did not want to see a stand-off between the head huntswoman and my mom, but I did need to pry some information out of her regarding the missing magical cases. A delicate venture, which would call for stealth and dexterity.

  “You still haven’t Purged?” A note of expectation hung in my mom’s voice, like she suspected I had and was giving me the chance to come clean.

  I picked up a pencil and doodled nervously on the cover of my sketchbook. “No, still nothing.”

  “You can tell me, you know. I won’t go all tiger-mom.” She looked through the camera so earnestly that I hated not telling her everything. But with the pixies at the forefront of this investigation, I couldn’t tell her one thing without revealing the other. And I didn’t want to betray Victoria’s trust, after she’d just let me off the hook… not any more than I already had by hunting the pixies when she’d told me not to. More than that, I didn’t want to dump a new layer of stress onto my mom’s already packed plate.

  I made sure to look into her hologram eyes. “Honestly, aside from the bats in the bathroom, I’m fine. But what about you? How are things at the SDC?”

  “Busy,” my mom admitted. “I’ve got paperwork coming out of my eyeballs.”

  “Did anything come of what Marius and Azar found?” I pressed a little more.

  She smiled sadly. “You know I can’t talk about that, sweetheart. It’s all still under investigation, so it’s secret information.”

  “No emerging patterns or anything? You can tell me that much, can’t you? I promise I won’t say anything.” I refused to stand down. This was part of my “failing better” mantra, and I’d keep at it until failure turned into success.

  She tilted her head, thinking for a moment. “I suppose so.” She lowered her voice to a whisper, as if the forces that be were listening in. “As of yet, we haven’t been able to find any patterns. Magicals are vanishing from all over the US, so there’s no geographic pattern there. The returnees show up hundreds of miles, even states away from where they were taken, which muddies the waters a lot.”

  I gave a humph of exasperation on her behalf. “And what about global disappearances? Do you think this might be a wider problem?” This was the question I’d been leading up to.

  “We’re trying to dig into that, but there are always issues with international collaborations. A lot of jumping through hoops on both ends, so it’s a slow process.” Mom sighed. “Until the UCA agrees to hash out a deal, we can only track US disappearances.”

  Crap! I probably shouldn’t have hoped for a simple solution. Even so, I had one more angle up my sleeve. “What if you reached out to a local coven? Would they be able to tell you about any disappearances?”

  “I could, but they wouldn’t be under any obligation to share information.” My mom frowned. “Why do you ask? Is something going on? Are people going missing in Ireland?”

  I kept up a calm façade. “I just thought it was strange that these disappearances cross so much distance, but are only happening in the US. What if it’s happening all over, and you just don’t know about it? Is there no way to kick the UCA in the butt?”

  “I could take a hot poker with me next time I go to the head office.” My mom laughed, not understanding how infuriating this was for me. It wasn’t her fault; I hadn’t told her about the dire straits the Institute was in. Still, I could only muster half a snort at her joke. There needed to be another culprit so the pixies weren’t the ones in the firing line. And I just knew someone else was responsible for this.

  “Or maybe a clown shoe?” I offered, trying to keep things light.

  My mom smiled. “I forgot to ask, how did your first day of classes go? I’m sorry, Persie, my head is overflowing right now—I can barely remember what I had for breakfast.” She looked down sadly. “I guess I won’t be winning any Mom of the Year awards this year, huh?”

  “I think you’re still in the running.” I didn’t want to see her downhearted. “And classes were fine—not much to tell. I’m still wrapping my head around physical training, but I really like the engineering. There’s so much to learn, and there are some super cool devices. I think that’s the class that’s going to help me the most.”

  Mom’s face brightened. “That’s great! I’m so glad you’ve found a class you like already.” Her smile stretched wider, looking genuinely thrilled. “Engineering, eh? Is that where they make the puzzle boxes?”

  “Yeah. They’re genius, and the craftsmanship is amazing.” I allowed myself a little geekery before signing off for the night. “I still like the Mason jars, but puzzle boxes are going to revolutionize monster capture once they’re available to covens.”

  My phone pinged, a message from Genie flashing up on the screen. We still on for tonight? You said 11:30, right? X

  I checked the clock on my home screen: 11:26pm. The clock had a habit of dragging along or speeding up when I was alone, and I still had a lot of work to do before I could sleep.

  “I’m happy you’re settling in. Is there anything going on tonight? A movie, or a get-together?” Mom looked anxious. She’d always fussed over my lack of social interaction, thinking it would stunt my development or turn me into a bona fide hermit. But, to me, friendship was about quality, not quantity, and I had every friend I’d ever need in Genie. Still, the irony wasn’t lost on me. There was a whole heap of mayhem going on in the Institute tonight, and I couldn’t tell her a thing about it.

  I shook my head. “Not tonight, no, but there’s a social in the gardens next week that I’m thinking about going to,” I said, throwing her a bone so she wouldn’t fret too much about me fitting in.

  “You are?!” Her eyes nearly bulged out of her head. “Persie, that’s wonderful news! You absolutely have to go, and if you need a dress, or jewelry, or anything from my wardrobe that isn’t exercise pants or my favorite jeans, I’ll send them over ASAP!”

  I chuckled. Little did she know I already had her favorite jeans in my wardrobe. Dad had slipped them into my luggage for me, under the sanctity of the father/daughter secrecy pact. “I’ll let you know.” I pretended to yawn, covering my mouth with my hand. “I should really take a shower and get to bed—I didn’t realize how late it was. Will you give my love to Dad?”

  Mom nodded sadly. “Of course, sweetheart. This time difference thing takes some getting used to, doesn’t it?”

  “I promise I’ll call again tomorrow when I get chance.” My fingertip hovered over the end-call button. “Night, Mom. I love you.”

  “I love you, too. Speak to you soon.” Her eyebrows suddenly shot up. “And I want pictures of next week!”

  I smiled and hung up so I wouldn’t have to make a promise I couldn’t keep. I hated having my picture taken. The thought of dressing fancy and having Genie take photos to keep up the ruse made my insides wriggle with discomfort. But that was a smaller problem for another day.

  Hurriedly, I texted Genie back. Still on. Heading out now.

  The reply pinged a second later. Be safe. Keep those peepers peeled. Good luck!

  You too, I typed back before slipping my phone back into my pocket. I paused to grab my backpack, with half our puzzle boxes and Mason jars inside. Genie had the others. After our fr
uitless day of hunting, we’d come up with a plan to split up for pixie duty tonight so we could cover more ground. There would be fewer people to avoid now that everyone had been consigned to their rooms, and I figured the hunters would be working in shifts, which would thin their numbers out, too.

  This would be my second night chasing down pixies, but this time, I knew I wasn’t alone. Shouldering the bag, I snuck out of my bedroom door and checked that the coast was clear. The corridor beyond lay blissfully empty of guards, all the hunters evidently otherwise engaged with tracking my monsters. I supposed, a little guiltily, that Victoria had figured I wouldn’t disobey her hunting ban. “Come on, pixies. Let’s finish what I started.”

  Sixteen

  Genie

  This ain’t gonna be pretty. Gritting my teeth, I flooded my body with Grandpa’s invisibility trick. I’d already used it a few times that day to get Persie and me out of some hunter confrontations. Using it again felt like rubbing lemon juice in a papercut, but a body-wide papercut and a shower of lemon juice. My skin burned; my insides caught fire. Just trying to open my eyes felt like having a stare-down with the sun.

  I waited a few minutes for the burning to settle into a bearable agony. Doing this was a royal pain, but it gave me a twenty-minute search window. If a hunter came my way, I could get close enough to see behind their pointless sunglasses or sniff cheap cologne without them knowing I was there. Painful, but crafty.

  I hoped Persie had gotten good news from her mom. She’d planned to do some subtle questioning, trying to find a possible connection to the other abductions so we could absolve the pixies. We’d agreed to divide and conquer.