Mystics 3-Book Collection (78 page)

“But they look so—”

“Real,” answered Tristan. He examined a
crystal statue of a little woman who reminded Zoey of the one of
the leprechaun gang. She could have been one of their wives.

“This feels
wrong
, for lack of a
better word,” said Tristan. “I don’t like it. I don’t like this
place. We shouldn’t have come—”

“We
had
to come, remember?” urged Zoey.
“We have no choice; they’re the only ones that can help
us.”

She glanced around the room, her bravery
diminishing the more she lingered in the eerie castle. “Even if
this place is a little . . . strange—”

“It’s more than a little strange. It’s
dangerous.”

Tristan walked off, leaving Zoey staring at
the back of his head. It was such a lovely head. She cursed herself
for thinking such a thing at such a time.

Tristan was right.

Zoey frowned. All the sculptures had one
thing in common—fear. It was as if whoever sculpted them made sure
their subjects had been constantly terrorized. Maybe the Minitians
weren’t as friendly as she had hoped.

“So, where are
these
sorceresses
anyway,” said Simon as he unsuccessfully tried to pick the
nose of the man in the statue Zoey had inspected moments
before.

“I’d have thought they
would have shown up by now, since we’re like
trespassing
.” Simon looked up,
“Maybe they’re . . .
gone
. It would explain the lack of
furniture. I know—maybe they saw the end of the world in their
crystal balls and magically transported themselves to another
universe.”

Zoey could tell by the anxious expression on
Tristan’s face that he felt the same way.

“They’re here,” said Zoey. “I can
feel
them watching us. It’s creepy. Don’t you feel it,
Simon?”

“I just feel hungry.”

Zoey smacked him on the arm. “You better
stop touching those. They’re probably like their
prized
possessions or something. Besides they’re the only things in here,
so stop playing around with them. Didn’t your mother ever teach you
to
not
touch things that didn’t belong to you?”

Simon ignored her and kept poking. “Nope.
She’s the one that encouraged me to do it.”

As they ventured further, they came to the
end of the great room and walked through a corridor that opened up
into another chamber.

The new space was like a circular cathedral.
The ceiling was so high it was lost in the gloom. The blood-red sky
peeked through a series of tall, skinny windows, and the red light
made the gleaming white walls look like they were stained with
blood.

Shadowy corridors led off in different
directions. The silver walls were carved with scenes from another
world where Minitians battled giant elephant-like creatures under
planets and stars that Zoey did not recognize. In one scene a group
of Minitians kneeled before a godlike creature with antlers.

But it was the floor that made her the most
nervous. The white marble was inscribed with black symbols and
runes. It was as though the floor was a giant curse. She did her
best not to step on them. Just like the other rooms, this place had
suffered damage as well.

“Don’t step on the markings,” Zoey
warned.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Simon
muttered.

Tristan scanned the exits. “Which way do we
go now—?”

WHO ARE YOU!

A voice blared inside Zoey’s head.

HOW DARE YOU ENTER THE WHITE FORTRESS!

Zoey fell to her knees in excruciating pain.
Over her own screams, she could hear Tristan and Simon wailing,
too. But she couldn’t even move to help them, because her own agony
pinned her to the floor.

But then the pain stopped as suddenly as it
had appeared.

Zoey opened her eyes.

Twelve tall black-robed figures with
featureless white faces stood in front of them.

Chapter 10

W
hite-hot pain
exploded behind Zoey’s eyes again. Her vision blurred from the
agony. Tears streaked down her face as she pressed her hands
against her head. All she wanted was for the pain to stop. Please
let it end. Her brain was on fire.

Once more, the pain vanished as fast as it
had appeared. Zoey could see that Tristan and Simon were both
hunched forward on their knees. Their faces were red and wet, and
their breathing was shallow.

Who are you!
Repeated the same voice
inside her mind. It was a woman’s voice, strong and commanding.

Speak now, or you will all die!

Just as the searing pain started again, Zoey
raised her hand. “Stop! Please! I’ll tell you!”

The pain vanished.

Zoey’s body shook, and she didn’t even
bother to try to stand. She had no idea which of the Minitians
spoke to her; they all looked identical except that some were a few
inches shorter or taller. And the fact that they
didn’t
have
mouths wasn’t exactly helpful.

Heart hammering in her chest, Zoey wiped the
tears from her eyes.

“My name is Zoey St. John,” her voice
cracked, and she strained to continue. “And these are my friends,
Tristan Price and Simon Brown.”

How did you find the secret fortress? Are
you sorcerers disguised as little children? What kind of magic is
this? We sense a force of power . . . something different . . .
.

Zoey glanced at her friends for support. She
wasn’t sure if she should reveal her talents to these obviously
hostile and suspicious mystics. Her friends’ faces were just as
unsure as hers. Although she couldn’t explain why, she had the
sudden feeling that she better keep her talents to herself.

“We’re Op—Agents,” corrected Zoey. “We’re
here on official business—”

Why have you forsaken the oaths and
trespassed into this sacred place? Those who dare walk into the
white fortress will die a most painful death. It is known.

Again Zoey tried to figure out who had
spoken, to try and seek a connection, but it was impossible. She
glanced at each face and then said, “Uh, I—we didn’t
know
about any oaths. The agency didn’t tell us. I’m sorry—”

Suddenly, the light dimmed and darkness
thickened around Zoey and her friends. On either side, an army of
shadows appeared—tribes of ghouls with long spindly arms and legs,
demons with red eyes and veiny bat-like wings, twisted bulbous
creatures with boils and leaking yellow pus, masses of putrid
worm-like beasts with hundreds of gapping maws full of teeth, and
clusters of floating, transparent deformed specters.

The air turned cold, and invisible icy hands
squeezed her throat. She wanted to run. She was facing a horde of
horrors that would snap anyone’s sanity. But she knew that she and
her friends would most certainly die if she ran.

The human lies,
hissed another voice
that was deeper and hoarse like an older female.

They are enchanters, tricksters. Kill them
all! Kill them! They’re polluting our home with their presence.

The shadows rustled and shifted. Hundreds of
horrible glowing red eyes focused on Zoey and her friends. As the
shadows neared, Zoey could almost feel her life drifting away. The
sounds of scuffling got louder. The darkness became even deeper.
She could tell Tristan and Simon were on the verge of panic, too.
She had to stand her ground for all of them. She had to make things
right, or they were all going to die.

With every bit of strength she could muster
she bellowed, “MUTTAB! I’m looking for Muttab!”

The shadows vanished. The room was bright
again.

The Minitian line parted, and a single
figure stepped forward. It looked exactly like the others, except
it was clad in the purest flowing white robes. The tallest among
her sisters, her robes billowed around her like white watery light
as she crossed the room. Zoey squinted as the sorceress neared. It
was like staring up at the sun. The Minitian had no eyes, nose, or
mouth under her white hood. Where her face should have been, Zoey
could only see a blank white façade, like a mask, just like the
others.

The white sorceress stooped over Zoey. Her
power radiated from her like heat from a fire. Her pointy white
boots peeked from under her robes.

How do you know that name?
Questioned
a soft voice inside her head. Somehow Zoey could tell it was older
than the other two voices, and it had more kindness in it.

At first, Zoey was afraid to answer. She
didn’t want to feel the scorching pain in her head or to see the
horrible demons that came from the shadows again. But something
inside her told her it was safe to speak up. It was as if the white
Minitian was
making
her feel more at ease, like she was
putting a
spell
on her . . . .

Please, you can tell me, Zoey St. John . . .
.

It was weird. The voice sounded a lot like
Aria’s. If she closed her eyes, she could swear that Aria was
standing in front of her and not the white sorceress. This was
magic again. At first, it had felt like dark magic, but now she
wasn’t so sure anymore. The voice didn’t seem to want to hurt
her.

Zoey could see Tristan and Simon waiting for
her to answer. She didn’t want to disappointment them.

“She was—
is
my mother’s friend,” she
said finally, glad her voice was even.

The white sorceress loomed over her but
didn’t say anything.

Zoey wiggled uncomfortably under the stare
of the white witch. Even though she didn’t have eyes, Zoey could
still
feel
them on her.

She tried to gather her thoughts and
suddenly realized what she needed to say.

“She . . . she delivered a message to me
from my mother. My mother’s name is Elizabeth Steele—do you know
her? No, probably not, stupid question.”

Zoey fumbled with her words. “The thing is .
. . I thought I could ask Muttab or you for help—”

This beast
dares
asks the High
Sorceress for help!
A loud voice bellowed in Zoey’s mind.

They should all die for such insolence!
Never has a mortal spoken so out of terms. Only death could make
this right again.

Zoey looked over to Tristan and Simon. The
stress on their faces and the whites around their eyes, told her
that the voices spoke to them as well.

With dread creeping inside her, she looked
back at the group of Minitians. They all looked the same.
How could anyone tell them apart?
Was
Muttab among them? Maybe she had led her friends into a trap—

The ground beneath Zoey’s feet trembled. A
rumble like the roar of thunder bounced inside the chamber. Dust
and debris cascaded down on Zoey and her friends like heavy
snow.

The Minitians ran for cover as part of their
castle ceiling fell on them. They were restless, fidgeting on the
spot, and looking around nervously. This wasn’t an ordinary
occurrence. Zoey could almost sense the fear in them. They were
afraid, but of what? What was happening to their beloved
castle?

A black-robed Minitian inched forward. She
cocked her head in their direction.

High Sorceress, we must rid ourselves of
these
mortals
. Are the shades of the white fortress to be
thus polluted? Their mere presence is a mockery of our sacred laws.
Those who seek and find the white fortress are our enemies. This is
a clever plot to undermine us, to use children. Do not be fooled.
They must be killed! The humans and the Mysterian must die!

A mixture of anger and fear welled in Zoey.
She knew coming here was a risk, but she didn’t realize that their
lives would be in danger. She had thought that she just needed to
persuade them to help. Now it seems that she needed to persuade
them to spare their lives.

Yes, we must rid ourselves of the vile
beasts,
said another voice.

YES!
Chorused many voices at
once.

Kill them!

“I think if we want to make a run for it . .
. the time is
now
,” whispered Simon. A faint smile twitched
on his lips. She knew he was only trying to make everyone feel
better.

The high sorceress waved a delicate
hand.

It is curious that three children have
found their way into the white fortress when it is known that only
those who possess magic can break through the barriers.
You
say you are not magicians, but then how did you find the fortress
if not aided by our enemies?

“Please, we’re not sorcerers; we’re
Sevenths
,” began Zoey. “We only came here to ask for
help—”

Our enemies have tried to steal our
secrets and failed. Those who are foolish enough to attempt to
trespass pay with their lives. And on this day
you
will
die.

Zoey stopped breathing and the blood left
her face. She turned and looked at her friends. Tristan clenched
his jaw and drew his blade, but Zoey knew his blade would be no
match for magic.

Simon looked green and avoided Zoey’s
eyes.

It all seemed like a bad dream. How did her
mother befriend such a hostile group? Where was Muttab?

The high sorceress inclined her head.

Children are foolish creatures. You will be
given a test . . . if you fail, you will die.

Zoey frowned as she tried to make sense of
what the sorceress had just said.

“What? What kind of test? What does that
mean—?”

Suddenly the room darkened, and for a
horrible moment, Zoey thought the demon shadows were back. She
moved towards Tristan and Simon and grabbed her boomerang.

Survive this test, and I will grant you safe
passage back to your lives. But you need to prove to us your worth.
If you live, then perhaps we shall discuss what you need from us.
We shall see . . . .