The Impossible Race: Cragbridge Hall, Volume 3 (17 page)

One-Inch Spies

You did well,” Anjum told the Spartans. He stood at a beautiful virtual redwood podium in front of a screen. Behind the screen were steps to a large domed building. And above him, several towering streetlights illuminated the scene. They were bright enough that Abby could see the transparent ceiling over the whole city. The large thick bubble protected them from the rock above. It was another of Anjum’s worlds, this one a city under the crust of the earth.

It was hard for Abby to concentrate. She had been thinking about the blackout the entire school day. They had to figure out what was stolen and who had done it. She had also thought a lot about Muns. She had stopped to visit her parents and her grandpa, but the nurse said there was still no sign of them coming to.

“But we came in second,” Anjum continued. “And second is not good enough. Doing well is not good enough.” He stepped out from behind his podium. “Derick.” Anjum pointed at Abby’s twin, who sat on one of the plush couches in the city square. At first they had struck Abby as odd—nice furniture in the city square. But if the whole city was underground, nice furniture could be kept outside of houses. It wouldn’t get rained on. Everything was under shelter. “You obviously need to improve your fish skills. When I heard you were a member of the Crash I mistakenly assumed you could use all the avatars.”

Derick raised his eyebrows, then bowed his head.

Anjum went from person to person pointing out their weaknesses. “And Abby, you need to figure out the clues sooner, and run faster. You slowed when the darkness hit. If you’d done either of those, it could have meant first place for us.”

“Wait a second,” Carol said, standing from her blue velvet couch. “I think we rocked it, and Abby was a big part of that.”

“We came in second,” Anjum said, pounding his fist on the podium. “No one ever ‘rocks’ second place. Not good enough.”

“Yeah, we already know we didn’t win,” Carol said. “So encourage us. Tell us we did a good job. Say stuff like, ‘You were better than my expectations. I’m so glad to have you on our team. Oh, and you looked so pretty while you did all sorts of challenges. You almost won!’”

“I told you that you did well,” Anjum said. “But we need to do better.”

“But let us be happy for a moment,” Maria said. She was braiding one of her exceptionally long strands of black hair as she listened. “We did really,
really
well.”

“No,” Anjum said. “I don’t want you happy right now. I want you happy on the day of the final challenge. After that’s over, I want you to be the happiest people in the whole school. Happy because you rose to the occasion. Happy because you truly met and conquered the challenge.”

“But we—” Nia started.

“No. Stop right there,” Anjum interrupted. “A good leader settles for nothing but the best. You are only as good as your last decision, your last effort. We were second place. So let’s not waste time thinking about our ‘almosts.’ Let’s look forward and look at what we can be.”

“Wow, intense,” Carol whispered.

Anjum smiled. “Thank you.”

Abby would have never wanted a leader like this under normal circumstances, but he seemed perfect for their situation. The secret was at stake. Second place wouldn’t protect it. Only a win would work.

“I think Anjum’s right,” Malcolm said. He nodded at their team leader. “And I’m going to call you
Coach
from now on.”

“Call me whatever you want as long as we are winning,” Anjum said. “Now, the clue was
‘Greek mythology.’
There could be several different challenges that would fit the theme.”

“Maybe we’ll have to go into a virtual world and do something like the labors of Hercules,” Nia suggested.

“Or try to kill Medusa without being turned to stone,” Maria said.

“Put me in, Coach,” Carol said. “I’ll take care of Miss Snakehair.”

“It may not be virtual at all. We may need to use the Bridge to study the culture where the myths come from,” Rafa suggested.

The idea of a whole challenge where Abby would have to spearhead the Bridge made her stomach turn. She hadn’t been invited to the team for her skills. And she felt that. She was one bad decision from being kicked off the team. She wished she felt wanted, felt included, but there wasn’t much she could do.

While the group continued to brainstorm, a message popped up on Abby’s rings. It wasn’t from Mr. Sul or Muns. It said it was from ‘The Messenger.’ That was cryptic. She ran it through several file checks and opened it on a safe server online just to be careful.

There was no video, no picture, no attachment. Just words:

Abby and Derick,

I’m sorry for reaching you anonymously, but I cannot tell you who I am for reasons you may understand. I cannot share this information with all of my council, for it may implicate at least one of them.

Before he was tranquilized, Oscar Cragbridge assured me that I could trust you with any important information I found. In fact, of all those with keys, he said he trusts you the most. I believe something was stolen last night. I received a message from someone speaking for Muns that said as much. This was disturbing to me, for it solidifies the fact that he knows I have a key.

I was monitoring the halls during the Race when the power went out. I tried to calm the screaming students down—it was rather pitch black inside a school without lights—but as I did, someone carrying something bumped me. I could feel a container of some sort against my arm. Then I heard a door open and close. I could have been mistaken, but I believe this was Mr. Silverton’s classroom door. I don’t want to involve security at this point just in case it pertains to secrets they should not know. Perhaps if we all pursue this further, we can find out the truth.

The Messenger

P.S. I hope your team wins. Your grandfather would be proud of your efforts and ingenuity.

Abby thought through the message as best she could. It was probably from someone on another Council of the Keys, and he or she believed Mr. Silverton may have stolen something. Of course, she also didn’t know that she could trust the anonymous messenger.

“Abby,” Anjum said. “You haven’t said anything. Are you focused?”

“Sorry,” Abby said.

“Don’t be sorry. Be better,” Anjum said, “or you’re off the team.”

• • •

Walking down the hall had never been such a thrill ride. Only an inch tall, Derick clutched the laces of Carol’s shoe. Rafa rode on the imitation leather face. Each step Carol took felt like an amusement park ride, her foot rising high and moving forward with a rush of momentum.

Carol moved to the side of the hall, and pretended to tie her shoe. “All right, guys, you’re just a door away,” she whispered. “I can’t believe I’m talking to spiders. And I can’t believe I’m hoping they think I’m cute.” She shook her head. “All right, I’m going to help Abby out in Grandpa’s lab. Well, not my grandpa’s, but yours.” She pointed at a spider. “Or yours. I can’t really tell which one of you is Derick. Sorry. You’re equally hairy and creepy.”

Derick wished he could also be in his grandfather’s lab. If the Bridge could show the future, it might save his life. It might save the whole world from the Ash. But for now, he and Rafa had to investigate. He tried to wave at Carol with a spider leg to signal which was him. He wasn’t sure it worked.

The spider avatars were a secret. Derick hadn’t even known they existed until they discovered that Katarina had used one to spy on them a few months ago. Rafa’s mother had made them recently. There were only two.

And this was the perfect opportunity. The teachers had all been called to a meeting, probably to report the inventory they’d taken to see if anything had been stolen or to report if anyone had seen anything suspicious. Rafa’s mother agreed this would be a good time to look into Mr. Silverton’s room.

It was Carol’s idea to give them a ride and it was a good one—much easier than trying to weave their way through the halls as spider avatars and not have any students hanging around after school notice them, or maybe squash them. When using such new and delicate avatars, getting squashed would be a very bad thing.

Rafa jumped down off Carol’s shoe. Derick tried to follow, but slid off her toe, caught a leg on the sole of her shoe, and flopped onto his back. His legs wriggled as he tried to get himself upright again.

“Oh, so that one’s Derick,” Carol said. She put her finger to his legs so that he could grip it and flip back over. Derick blushed. Thankfully, his robot spider couldn’t. “Good luck,” she whispered. “Message me if you want a ride back. Or if you want to chat. Or if you want to meet up for lunch tomorrow. Whatever.”

The two spiders crept along the hallway where the wall met the floor. Derick followed Rafa, but it was extremely awkward with eight legs. He had to think about each leg, and the others sometimes felt like they were in the way. There was a rhythm to it, though, and once he got going, it got easier.

They eventually scrambled under the door to Mr. Silverton’s room.

“Looks empty,” Derick said, “but it’s hard to tell when you can only see from the floor.”

Rafa scurried up the wall.

“So amazing,” Derick said.

“Give it a shot,” Rafa said. “Your avatar has the same gripping hairs that real spider legs have. And that is a huge deal. My mom is a genius.”

Derick took his first step up the wall and was surprised how easily he stuck. As he took several more steps, he realized that grip was not the only thing that felt different. It was surreal to feel gravity tug at him as he climbed so easily. And it was strange to spend so much time climbing a wall that he’d normally think was an average height. By the time he was to the level of the light switch, it felt like he was several stories in the air. It was a good thing he wasn’t afraid of heights.

Derick gazed out at the room. There were plenty of desks and screens, but no people. A large oak desk stood in the corner for the teacher, and behind it, an office door.

“It looks like there’s only one place to hide anything in this room,” Derick said.

“Let’s go,” Rafa said, and moved up the wall and across the ceiling.

Derick followed suit, though he took his time moving from the wall to the ceiling. A slipup there could send him all the way to the ground. “It’s funny that I don’t like spiders as a human,” Derick said, “but
being
a spider is so amazing!” It felt like the blood rushed to his head a little, but Derick knew that his real body was still suspended right side up in a harness in the avatar lab.

They crawled down the wall on the other side and under the door to the office.

Flames

It was the first time I’ve ever been okay with spiders on my shoe,” Carol said. “Normally, I’d probably do a crazy freak-out dance.” She threw her arms in the air, stamped her feet, and pretended to scream. “But that would be terrible if I stomped one of Rafa’s mom’s best avatars. Bad move.”

“Well, it was a good idea,” Abby said, looking down at the display of the metal shop machine. She was shaping another object inside her grandfather’s lab. “I meant carrying the spiders to the room. Not the stomp-on-expensive-robots part.” She paused to watch the metal form into a sun, then drop into water and sizzle and steam. “I hope we’re getting closer,” she said. “I’ve made so many of these, I don’t know what to do.” She lifted up her heart necklace, then looked down at a collection of orbs, bracelets, and rings. After they were remade into something else, none of them shocked or froze as they had before.

“I know,” Carol said. “I wonder if there’s like a certain design he wants us to make. I’ve made some killer ones, but I just don’t get why we have to keep going.”

“Diligence and patience,” Abby repeated, starting another design. She decided to make another version of her first necklace. She liked it, but she had learned a lot in making design after design. She made another heart, this one slimmer and a little smaller. She thought it would look better that way. And she placed the star on the front of the heart, but a little off-center. She made her own chain, with links that were more oval than round. Then she used a glove to find another object that tried to shock her. It wasn’t a surprise anymore. She was ready for it. She put the object in the machine and began the process. Several minutes later, steam rose off her new heartstone. She let it cool in the pile of other creations she had finished.

She started in on a crescent moon.

Clank.

Carol must have finished another creation.

Clank. Clank. Clank.

“Um, Abby, you should see this,” Carol said.

Abby looked over at her creations resting on a table. One object was moving, pushing the others out of the way.

“It’s like it’s alive,” Carol said. “And it’s separating itself from the others.”

It moved one direction, then another, creating a circle clear of anything else metal. Then it stopped in the middle.