Magic?
he thought, and it felt as if he had grown twenty years older in one second. A hundred thoughts flashed through his head the instant she said the word, but in a second every thought vanished and was replaced with one terrifying question:
What’s going to happen to me?
"It can’t be true!" he said.
"It is," Adi insisted, shaking his shoulder. "Bran, I
know
what someone’s magic awakening looks like, the first time you use it. And it came to save you right when you needed it."
"I don’t believe it," Bran said. "The truck stopped; it must have missed us!"
"And smashed its own front in?" Adi asked him. "Bran, if you weren’t a mage, both you and Rosie would be dead right now, don’t you understand that?" She lowered her voice further. "You did magic, Bran, and you didn’t even know it. And I’m sorry, I wish we could have found you sooner—"
"We?" Bran asked with alarm. "There are more mages?"
Adi looked down. "I don’t think you realize what’s going on here. I’m just one. And luckily, I was here to get you."
She looked around to make sure no one was listening.
"We’re here for a reason, Bran," she whispered. "All of us are hiding. And if anyone finds out, it’ll be over. Gone. Every one of us will go to jail."
Bran felt the color draining from his face.
"And Bran," Adi went on, and it looked painful to her just to speak. "You must understand—"
"Bran! There you are!" Sewey called out from behind Adi, and she spun around. Sewey was sweating and breathing deep as he ran up, and far behind him was a crowd of people. "There’s been a misunderstanding," he gasped. "They think you stopped that truck with your bare hands, and the chairman of the fair wants you to perform the trick again!" Sewey mopped his brow. "He’s already started selling tickets. And since you’re under eighteen, they want to make
me
do it in your place. We’ve got to get out of here!"
"There he is!" someone squealed, and the crowd started to run.
"They’ve seen you!" Sewey said in a rush. "Time to go!"
Before Bran could do anything else, Sewey grabbed his arm and started to pull him away. He tried to protest, but Sewey only pulled harder, and Bran turned to look back at Adi.
She slowly put a finger up to her lips. Bran swallowed hard, feeling afraid and lost, but he nodded to her, as if in a silent promise. And as he was pulled around the corner, he couldn’t help noticing that she looked almost as afraid as he was.
Sewey and Bran shot off for the parking lot and dove into the car, where everyone else was already waiting. Rosie was in a heap in the backseat.
"Bran!" she said when Sewey tossed him in. "Oh, you’re safe!"
"No time to chat," Sewey said, starting the car and rocketing off as the crowd of people came stampeding out of the park exit. He gunned the engine and made it to the road just in time. Rosie threw her arms around Bran, holding him tightly.
"Oh, Bran," she said, her eyes filling with tears. "You saved my life!"
Bran was so shaken that he couldn’t respond. She held him tightly, and he could feel she was trembling.
Sewey waved one hand in the air. "Don’t be silly, Rosie," he said. "That truck stopped at least two inches from you. Even the officer agreed with me. There’s no way Bran would have been able to stop it otherwise."
"But it threw Bran into the booths!" Rosie said. "Oh, Bran, are you hurt?"
"I’m all right," Bran said, trying to console her, and she held him close.
"Enough of that talk," Sewey said. "He was lucky the grass was there to catch his fall. Luckily, we don’t pay Rosie much, or else that purse-snatcher might have made a great steal."
"But my article!" Rosie said. "I had my final draft all typed up and folded inside!"
"Bah," Sewey said. "He’ll be so angry with how little money he finds, he’ll probably just bring the purse back to our house in disgust."
"We’re going home," Rosie said. "I’ve had enough for one day."
"Home?" Sewey replied. "I think we have one thing left on the list, and that is to get a book."
"But Sewey!" Rosie protested. "Bran and I were almost hit by a truck!"
"Listen, Rosie," Sewey said. "We’ve already had three pests in this day alone: the van, Mr. Rat, and the purse-snatcher. I can’t handle any more." He hit the steering wheel. "We are getting a book, and that is final!"
Baldretta banged a sucker on her seat like a gavel. Thoughts were rushing through Bran’s head, and all he could do was look out the window at the cars, every nerve within him raw and electrified. He tried to hide it so no one would notice, but inside he felt sick and scared at the same time. Everything around him had changed, so much that his mind hardly accepted it. He couldn’t bring himself to believe what Adi had said, though her words played in his head. They would have been dead.
Could it really have been magic?
It was only a minute to the library, but when they parked, Sewey realized something.
"Wait a minute," he said. "We can’t go to the library. We’re not allowed in there!"
"Yes," Mabel said, glaring at Balder. "And we all know why."
Baldretta covered her ears, and Balder took a deep breath.
"
Oh terrible nights of woe and destruction, as I break down and blow up all forms of construction!
" he screamed in delight.
Rosie winced. "Yes, that was what you sang."
"Compliments of Manica-bibble himself," Balder added, satisfied.
"Blast the library," Sewey said. "We’re going where we can be as loud as we want and
not
get thrown out!"
"Yay, the zoo!" Balder oinked.
"No," Sewey snorted. "A
bookstore.
"
"Where?" Mabel asked. "We never go to bookstores. I wouldn’t know where to look."
"And I don’t know any bookstores on this side of town," Rosie said. "I just go to the library."
"Right," Sewey concurred. "Well then, Bran, you go inside the library, since they won’t recognize you, and ask the first person you see where the nearest bookstore is."
Bran didn’t feel like it, but reluctantly did as he was told.
The place was filled with whispering kids scurrying about, most ignoring the books in favor of the computers. The quiet hum of the air conditioner filled the main room. All the librarians were busy, and as Bran stood there, he realized he didn’t want to talk to anyone at all.
As his eyes drifted over the people, he spotted someone watching him from next to a shelf: a tall, middle-aged man with a round beard. He had black hair, and through it was a streak of white, almost as if it had been dyed in a peculiar manner. He looked creepy just standing there watching him, but Bran knew he couldn’t just go on staring, so he walked over.
"Excuse me," Bran asked. "Do you know where the nearest bookstore is?"
He felt a little silly asking for a bookstore when he was in a library with hundreds of free books to enjoy. The man looked at him in a way that made Bran very uncomfortable, as if he could look into his eyes and read his mind.
"Yes, I do," the man finally said, his voice smooth. "There’s one right down the road." The man pointed, his eyes not leaving Bran’s. "It’s called Highland’s Books."
"Thank you," Bran said, trying to put a finger on what was strange about the man. He just couldn’t pick out what made him feel so uneasy.
"You’re welcome, Bran," the man said. Bran broke his gaze and turned to walk out, but he stopped when he realized something. He spun back again.
"How do you know my name…" his voice trailed off.
The man was gone, as if he had just vanished into thin air. Bran looked around, but he couldn’t see him anywhere, not even behind the shelves of books. It was very odd, but he decided it was best just to leave.
That’s great, word’s probably gotten around about the truck already,
he thought grimly. He wondered about it all the way to the car.
"WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG?" Sewey demanded.
"I had to find someone," Bran said.
"Hodgepodge," Sewey muttered. "It’s simple: just stand at the door and shout ‘DOES ANYONE KNOW WHERE THE NEAREST BOOKSTORE IS?’ and then you’re done!"
"No wonder you’re not allowed in there," Bran said under his breath.
They drove down a way until they saw the sign. Bran had never been there. Sewey really didn’t care for books, because average, normal, respectable Duncelanders like him didn’t have time to read anything while they were being average, normal, respectable Duncelanders.
"What an odd and unusual notion," Sewey murmured as they drove up. "A store that sells nothing but books…they must get absolutely no business."
"Well,
you
could visit it," Mabel noted. "It’s close to where you work. Only a street down!"
"
Too
close, in my opinion," Sewey shuddered. "I’d have to take the alley so no one would see."
When they walked into the store, Bran was flooded with all the different shapes and sizes and colors, books on almost every subject he could think of. Sewey marched inside and stopped, standing in the doorway. He raised his head, cupped his hands around his mouth, and shouted:
"DOES ANYONE KNOW WHERE BOOKS ON PEST CONTROL ARE?"
Everyone in the store looked up at him, some leaning out
from the quiet shelves to see who was making the racket, but no one came over to help him. Sewey, utterly outraged, stomped over to the counter in the center of the store and demanded the clerk tell him where the pest control section was. Rosie headed to the encyclopedias, Balder and Baldretta scurried to the children’s section, and Mabel dashed off for the self-help section, because goodness knows she needed some.
That left Bran all alone to think.
He chose a chair against the row of windows in front of the store and sat down. He always liked it when Rosie took him to libraries while she did research, where the rush and noise outside just seemed to slip away and was replaced by quiet and books. The bookstore was just as tranquil. Part of him wished something would distract him, so he could avoid thinking about what happened with the truck, but he couldn’t escape it. He had to face it.
So is Adi right?
He asked himself bluntly.
Did I really do magic?
His mind spun. He rested his head in his palm and his elbow on the arm of the chair. He wished that Adi hadn’t been forced to leave so soon. Someone had to answer his questions. He had to tell someone who could help him.
Rosie,
he thought.
I’ll tell her!
No.
His mind echoed back at him. He couldn’t. If he told her, it would put her in nearly as much danger as he was. He couldn’t bear the thought for a second.
Shambles!
Bran remembered.
He has something to do with it!
It was a sudden reminder—in all that had happened, he had completely forgotten about the burglar! There was just too much coincidence in it. The creature on the roof, the paper beside the
house: all of it was connected! In an instant, all the doubt that was in Bran’s mind disappeared.
He shook his head and looked down at his hands. There wasn’t a scratch on them from the truck. Adi was right. That truck would have killed them; it was going too fast to stop. He remembered feeling it coming upon him, the power rushing out through his hands, shielding them from it. Somehow, he had stopped the truck. He had no choice but to believe her. He had stopped it with magic.
I’m going to figure all this out,
he told himself, squeezing his hands together. Everything was starting to connect like a puzzle, and he was going to find all the pieces and put it together.
"Psst!" he heard someone whisper, interrupting his thoughts. He looked up and saw Rosie standing between two shelves a few rows away.
"Bran!" she whispered, beckoning. "Come look at this!"
Bran left his thoughts behind as he went to her. She walked down a few rows of shelves and up a few more.
"This way," she whispered, and he followed her voice. She was ahead of him and slipped through a door, but by the time Bran had caught up to her, it had closed again. Bran pushed it open, but then noticed a sign in bold letters on the door that read:
emPloyees only
"Um, Rosie…" he hesitated.
"Hurry up," she whispered, looking back. She smiled, and it reassured him that whatever she was doing was all right. With one last glance at the sign, he stepped through into the dark.
"Close the door," Rosie said. He pulled it slowly, the hinges creaking. Everything was immediately engulfed in darkness. His
eyes hadn’t adjusted enough to see his way, so he felt around with his hands. He could see his feet, but nothing more.
"It’s dark in here," he said, almost tripping over something. "Rosie, is there a light?"
"Just follow me," she said forcibly, as if she were irritated. It was most unlike her, and it made Bran wonder what had happened. He held his hands out in front and felt for the wall, following her voice around a corner. He saw faint movement ahead and followed it. There were shapes of boxes and crates beside him, forming strange pathways. His eyes adjusted a little, and he saw her turn a corner at the end—but when he came to it, she was gone.
"I can’t see you anymore," Bran said.
"Just follow my voice," Rosie replied.
"But I can’t see anything," Bran said. "I have to go back—"
"No!" Rosie hissed. "Come this way, Bran Hambric."
Bran stopped, his hands frozen against the side of a crate.
Why had she used his full name?
Instantly, his senses were alert.
"Who’s there?" he asked, standing up straight and backing into the wall. All was silent around him. His eyes searched the darkness, one way then the next. He looked back but couldn’t see the door he had come through between the crates.
Is that really Rosie?
he thought with fright. Her voice was the same, but he could feel it—something under his skin warning him away. He started to move slowly, sliding across the pathway, the crates towering over his head like giants holding their arms over him. He came to the corner, and as he looked around the edge, he saw a small light far away.