Spell Robbers

  Then it was Ben’s turn. He told them everything he had done, even the part about stealing the plans for the prison cells. But to make his report without breaking down, he’d had to empty himself of all thoughts, all feelings. Like a damaged jet fighter dropping its missiles harmlessly before it crashed. Fewer casualties that way.

  “You’re right,” Mr. Weathersky said. “It isn’t Ben’s fault. I’m the one who trusted Morrow. I authorized the mission.”

  But it wasn’t the director’s fault. Ben had helped Ronin do things the League had known nothing about. Ben had lied, because he’d been angry with the League, and now he was paying the price. It was Ben’s fault, too.

  “Ben,” Mr. Weathersky said. “Whatever it is you’re thinking, I want you to stop. You couldn’t have known. You did what you thought was best.”

  “I should have —”

  “Stop,” Mr. Weathersky said. “There is no point to it. There is no actuation for changing the past.”

  “That’s right,” Agent Taggart said. “We just need to go after Morrow.”

  “But what about my mom?” Ben asked. It didn’t seem fair that he would lose everything because of what Ronin had done. “I did everything you asked.”

  “You did,” Agent Spear said. “But the mission isn’t complete. You remember our deal? We need you. All your time with Ronin might yield something useful. You can help us bring him in.”

  Ben felt his rage returning, and took several deep breaths to keep from losing it.

  “Something isn’t adding up, here,” Agent Taggart said. “It almost seems like this is what Ronin intended all along. As if he wanted to be caught, knowing we would send him undercover.”

  “But that would mean he knew about everything,” Mr. Weathersky said. “Dr. Hughes. The Dread Cloaks. All of it.”

  “Or someone knew,” Agent Spear said. “And they told Ronin.”

  The feeling of something itching at the edge of Ben’s thoughts returned. The feeling he’d had before when he’d thought about that name. Richter. He thought back over the events of the last few weeks. The stranger helping Dr. Hughes. The anonymous tip about Ronin’s jewel heist. The inside man Ronin didn’t know well whom he had let on to his crew. The rival leader of the Dread Cloaks nobody knew. Could they all be related?

  “Could it be Richter?” Ben asked.

  Everyone in the room turned to look at him.

  “I mean,” Ben said, “could he be the someone behind it all?”

  “We’ve been over this,” Mr. Weathersky said. “Richter doesn’t exist. Ronin does. Once again, let us focus on the devil we know. We need to capture him.”

  “That won’t be easy,” Agent Taggart said. “He knows exactly how to hide from us.”

  “We don’t go after him,” Mr. Weathersky said. He looked at Ben. “We draw him out. He’ll bring the gun to us.”

  “Now, why would he do that?” Agent Spear asked.

  “Because we have something he wants,” Mr. Weathersky said. “Desperately.”

  Realization jolted through Ben. Ronin had been wrong. Mr. Weathersky hadn’t lied, after all. “You really have her?”

  “Have who?” Agent Taggart asked.

  “His daughter,” Mr. Weathersky said.

  The two agents sat back in their chairs. They said nothing. Minutes passed.

  “Are you sure about this?” Agent Spear said. “The risks —”

  “Dr. Hughes,” Mr. Weathersky said. “During your captivity among the Dread Cloaks, did you complete work on the augmenter gun? Ben told us you did not believe it to be reliable.”

  “No,” she said. “But I did my best to look like I was trying to work on it. It is still very unpredictable, and I believe very dangerous.”

  Mr. Weathersky turned to Agent Spear. “You see? Whatever the risks, they are nothing compared to what a man like Morrow could do with that gun.” Mr. Weathersky stood. “We have no choice.” He turned to Ben. “And neither will Morrow.”

  “So where is his daughter?” Ben asked.

  Mr. Weathersky leaned forward over the table, poised on his knuckles. “She’s been training you and Peter. Sasha Lambert is Morrow’s daughter.”

  MR. Weathersky sent a personal message for Ronin out into the streets. Ben didn’t hear what it was, exactly, but it had something to do with the night Ronin’s wife had been murdered. Mr. Weathersky seemed convinced that it would work to lure the former agent in. After that, all they could do was wait for Ronin to make contact.

  During that time, Ben and Peter didn’t see much of Sasha. Their formal training had been suspended, but they practiced in the Big Top with the other agents, picking up tips and strategies from them where they could. Ben had rummaged through that same cardboard box and found another Locus to use, a tarnished silver dollar. He missed his old Locus, but this new one did the job.

  Two days after Ronin had betrayed Ben, Ben sat with Peter in the dining room, spinning his Locus on the table. “I wish I could actuate without one.”

  “It’s really not a big deal,” Peter said. “Sasha was right; several agents use them.”

  “It’s a big deal if you don’t have one when you need it.”

  Peter took a bite of his sandwich, both elbows on the table. He seemed to have settled in too comfortably here. He had just accepted everything that had been done to them. He had bought in.

  “They’re just using you, you know,” Ben said. “Me, too. They’re controlling us.”

  “They’re not controlling me,” Peter said. “I want to be here.”

  Ben shook his head. “How could you —?”

  But just then Sasha walked into the dining room, and Ben forgot what he was saying. He watched her as she crossed in front of the food warmers without taking anything, grabbed a bottle of water, and took a seat at a table by herself.

  “Sasha.” He got up and went over to her. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “Fine.”

  “Haven’t really seen you around much.” Ben took a seat, and Sasha sat back, leaning away from him without making eye contact.

  “No,” she said. “I’ve been prepping for the operation.”

  “What kind of prep?” Peter had come over and took the seat next to Ben.

  She rolled the water bottle between her hands. “Mostly how to handle Ronin.”

  “Is he really your father?” Peter asked.

  Ben wanted to kick him under the table. Everything in Sasha’s file made sense now. This was why she hadn’t been detached. This was why there wasn’t any info on her family or where she came from. But Ben remembered how she’d reacted when asked about this stuff before, and she didn’t seem any more open to talking about it now.

  “What do you think?” Sasha stared at Peter until he looked away.

  “I — I don’t know,” he said. “I just —”

  “Leave it alone,” Ben said.

  Sasha swung her stare onto him, and Ben offered her a gentle smile. She looked down at her water bottle, and then stood.

  “I’ve got to go. See you two around.”

  She left the dining room, and after she was gone Peter shook his head.

  “I don’t get it.”

  “They’re using her, too,” Ben said. “Maybe she doesn’t like it, either.”

  Mr. Weathersky’s message reached its target, and apparently did a pretty good job of convincing him, because the next day, a package arrived at the League headquarters with instructions for the exchange.

  “When and where?” Agent Spear asked.

  “Tomorrow afternoon,” Mr. Weathersky said. “Mercer Beach.”

  “Mercer Beach?” Ben could hear the panic in his own voice at the thought of going back there. “But that’s where Poole is.”

  “Was,” Agent Taggart said. “With the loss of the augmenter gun, he’s left town. No one has seen him or heard from him since you freed Dr. Hughes.”

  “Right,” Agent Spear said. “Poole was on his last leg, and you, son, knocked
it out from under him.” There was a hint of something in his voice. Pride?

  “But …” Even with their reassurances, Ben didn’t like this. “Couldn’t this be some kind of trap?”

  “He set no other terms,” Mr. Weathersky said.

  “Ronin is on his own,” Agent Taggart said. “The Paracelsus crew will be after him, and so will the Dread Cloaks. He’s getting desperate and careless. He might even want to be caught.”

  Ben doubted that very much.

  “Perhaps,” Mr. Weathersky said. “But we’ll take no chances. I want a full contingency on this. Call in everyone you can.”

  “Yes, sir,” Agent Taggart said.

  “That includes you, Ben,” Mr. Weathersky said. “And Peter. If you think you’re ready.”

  The director’s words blew across the embers of Ben’s anger. Not just anger at Mr. Weathersky and the League, but anger at Ronin. “I’m ready,” he said. “But I have one question.”

  “What’s that?” Mr. Weathersky asked.

  “What happens to Sasha?”

  “Agent Lambert has been briefed. She’s the bait, but we have no intention of actually letting Ronin take her.”

  Something about this didn’t sit right. “But she’s his daughter.”

  Mr. Weathersky paused. “Why don’t you get to your point?”

  “You’re going to take her from him all over again.”

  “He did that to himself when he betrayed us.”

  Ben knew that. He knew Ronin was responsible, that he had no one to blame but himself. But Ronin was also a victim. The League had kept his daughter a secret, and rogue agent or not, that didn’t seem right. But Ronin wasn’t the only one they’d hurt. Sasha had gone through life without her father, maybe not even knowing who he was, and Ben couldn’t imagine what that must have been like for her. That was the other kind of detachment she’d talked about that morning in the dining room.

  “But you’re also taking Sasha’s dad away, too.”

  “We didn’t force Agent Lambert to do this,” Mr. Weathersky said. “She could have said no, but she chose to go ahead with the plan. So I suggest you worry less about other people and more about yourself. The retrieval of the augmenter gun is all you need concern yourself with.”

  But suddenly, Ben didn’t like the idea of the augmenter gun in Mr. Weathersky’s hands any more than he had in Poole’s.

  The next day, everyone suited up the way they had the night they went after the Paracelsus crew. Ben and Peter put on the same gear, and they loaded into similar vans, but this time, Sasha wasn’t with them. Ben watched from inside his vehicle as she came out of the building with Mr. Weathersky, and they got into another car.

  Ben reached forward and tapped Agent Spear’s shoulder. “Is Mr. Weathersky coming?”

  The agent nodded. “He sure is. Not often he gets into the action anymore.”

  Ben sat back and looked at Peter. Peter raised his eyebrow.

  The cavalcade of a dozen vehicles pulled out and drove through the city along a route that had become familiar to Ben. Past downtown, out onto the highway, toward the refinery, then through the abandoned neighborhoods to Mercer Beach.

  They drove under the old sign, and into the broken parking lot, where the vehicles spread out from a column to a wedge formation, barreling along beneath the twin shadows of the refinery towers, toward the park’s entrance. Ben watched for any sign of an ambush. He searched for the red-and-black uniforms of the Dread Cloaks, but saw no sign of them.

  The League vans came to a stop and the agents piled out. Between all the vehicles, there were fifty or sixty of them, and in their black assault gear they were a pretty intimidating force. Ben and Peter hung at the edge waiting for orders as Agents Spear and Taggart directed units of agents forward between the striped ticket booths into the park.

  “Ben, Peter, you’re with me.” Mr. Weathersky walked toward them. Sasha marched beside him. “Stay close.”

  They followed the other agents down the main promenade, past the House of Mirrors and the carousel. A tense silence preceded and followed them, the only sounds those made by their feet and the rustle of their gear.

  “Where are we going?” Ben whispered.

  “Ronin wants to make the exchange in the arena,” Mr. Weathersky said.

  The arena seemed a very deliberate choice, and Ben’s unease grew. He’d seen Ronin in action. Ben knew him well enough to know that the man would have a plan to avoid capture and get out of here, with his daughter and probably with the augmenter gun, too. But Ben did his best to suppress his fear and keep his breathing and his heart rate even.

  When they arrived at the arena entrance, Ben reached into his pocket and clutched his Locus, the metal coin warm in his hand. Mr. Weathersky looked up at the building.

  “I want everyone ready with actuations. Let’s move.” He led the way.

  Agent Spear and Agent Taggart took up positions on either side of Ben, Peter, and Sasha as they moved forward through the arena doors. Ben felt the actuations stirring around him. He summoned up one of his own, a fireball, and his mind crackled with the potential of it.

  Inside the arena, the air held still and the dim light strained to fill the space. In front of them, the open stage curtains spread darkness and shadows between them. Ben looked up at the control room, where Poole had made his office. The windows were black.

  As the agents streamed into the building and fanned out, Mr. Weathersky strode to the middle of the performance ring. Agent Spear and Agent Taggart kept Ben, Peter, and Sasha back.

  “Ronin!” Mr. Weathersky shouted. “It’s over! Come out.”

  “Where is my daughter?” came Ronin’s voice from somewhere up on the stage.

  Ben squinted, but couldn’t see anything. Ronin was definitely up to something. And if Ronin was desperate, who knew what that might be? Ben’s unease climbed up a step into fear.

  “She is among the agents, here.” Mr. Weathersky gestured across the League forces. “But I will not reveal her to you until I have the augmenter gun in my hand.”

  “Is that so?” Ronin stepped forward on the stage into the light. He looked haggard, with dark rims under his eyes. “And then what? You’ll just hand over my daughter and let me go?”

  “Come now, Ethan,” Mr. Weathersky said. “You know how this will play out. You knew it when you came here. But you came anyway.”

  “You’re right,” Ronin said.

  He had a confident glint in his eyes. Ben had seen that look before, back at the abandoned house. Ronin had laid a trap somehow. Ben looked over his shoulder at the exit. He touched Sasha’s arm, and she turned to look at him.

  “Something is wrong,” he whispered.

  He couldn’t read her expression, but he was aware that her father stood up there, the father she had never known. What was she feeling? Ben didn’t like the idea of giving Ronin what he wanted, but Sasha had a right to know her father.

  He turned to Peter. “Be ready to run.”

  Peter nodded.

  “Where is the portable augmenter, Ethan?” Mr. Weathersky asked.

  Ronin looked up into the rafters and catwalks overhead. “Well, I didn’t think it was fair to just hand it over to you. There are a number of interested parties. So I thought I’d give you all a sporting chance.”

  Mr. Weathersky took a step forward. “What do you —?”

  But he stopped, and Ben felt why. Actuations blazed to life above them, and combined with the actuations held at the ready by the League agents, the arena felt charged enough to explode. There was an army up there at least as big as the force of League agents. This was an ambush. But who were they?

  “Is that Poole?” Mr. Weathersky asked.

  “Poole is gone,” Ronin said. “But the Dread Cloaks remain with a new leader.”

  “The rival that drove Poole out?” Mr. Weathersky said.

  Ronin shrugged. “Does it matter?”

  “What happens now?” Mr. Weathersky asked.

&nbs
p; Ronin pulled the augmenter gun out from behind his back. “I’m going to put this here.” He bent over and set the gun on the stage. “And I’m going to let you all fight it out.”

  Ben’s darting gaze turned frantic. This was going to be a massive firefight. He had to get Sasha out of there. Peter, too. He grabbed them both by the arm and pulled them toward the door. Peter caught on and came on his own, but he had to tug on Sasha.

  The League agents had turned their attention upward, but in the shadows they didn’t know what or who to aim at. The Dread Cloaks had the advantage. Ronin backed away from the augmenter gun with his hands raised.

  “You have a choice, Old One,” he said, approaching the shadows. “You can follow me, or you can try to keep the augmenter out of Dread Cloak hands.” As he disappeared behind the stage, he made eye contact with Ben. Then he looked at Sasha. He smiled again, and faded away.

  “Agents,” Mr. Weathersky said, “be —”

  The air filled with a deafening explosion as lightning, fire, and ice shot down, striking the arena floor and a few League agents. They all scrambled for cover, returning fire randomly. Mr. Weathersky charged fearlessly through the barrage toward the stage.

  “Let’s get out of here!” Ben shouted. He led the way, Peter and Sasha behind him.

  They raced out into the amusement park, and Ben looked around for a place they could hide. Once Mr. Weathersky got his hands on the augmenter, he would try to get it out of there, and the battle would move outside. He needed to find a safe place for them before that happened.

  “But the League,” Sasha said. “My friends.”

  “Let them fight it out over that augmenter,” Ben said. “That was Mr. Weathersky’s choice. You don’t owe them anything, especially after what they did to you.”

  Sasha looked back through the doors, clearly torn.

  “Look,” Ben said. “I think Ronin will come find us. You are what’s most important to him.”

  “I think Ben is right,” Peter said.

  Ben looked around for a place they could go to hide and wait. One of the other buildings, maybe. The House of Mirrors was the closest.