Once outside, I finally took a closer look at the girl who rescued me. Her dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She wore jeans, a button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a vest. Her eyes seemed playful and she was grinning as though pleased with herself.
“Thanks for rescuing me and all. But who are you?” I asked, rubbing my cold arms.
“I’m Hen Bloomberry,” she said.
“You’re that guy’s daughter?” I asked.
“Yup,” she said.
It took me a moment to spot Valentine and Trinnia, who’d moved toward the gate. They faced away from us and were looking intently at Misty. Corbyn fluttered above Valentine’s shoulder, a Q-tip stuffed into the back of his shirt. Valentine was talking, apparently not noticing our approach.
“You must not take risks like that,” Valentine said, sternly. Any hint of the kind voice he’d had before was gone. “I will discuss this with your father.”
I slipped another leaf out of the pouch and put it in my mouth.
“What are you doing?” Hen asked as I softly muttered the incantation.
“Henrietta, go away,” Misty snapped.
“It’s Hen!” Hen said.
“Hi Santiago! Hi Henrietta,” Corbyn said, beaming.
“Ah splendid,” Valentine said, turning around clapping his hands. He was all smiles again. “Henrietta, didn’t your father–”
“Nice to see you too, Nate,” she said amiably. Valentine’s face tightened.
“Henrietta,” Mr. Valentine said. “Your father mentioned he didn’t want you here.”
“I came looking for him,” Hen said. “I told Mom I was going to recolor the door to Dad’s den and she said I shouldn’t do that without talking to him first. So I came here to find out.”
“What color are you painting it?” Corbyn asked curiously.
Hen looked like she was going to answer but Valentine cut in quickly.
“Why did you go inside the shop? Your father left shortly after these two entered.”
“I thought he’d be where the danger was. You know, protecting Underboy,” Hen said, slapping me on the back. “And a good thing too. I just rescued him. I can’t believe you guys sent him in there alone.”
“No need to worry, Henrietta, Misty was with him,” Valentine said.
I decided to read him first. I clasped my hands together in front of me. When I mirrored his smile, Misty looked at me like I was mad. I flipped my hands so the other one was on top of the other, keeping the smile but tilting my head slightly.
Boom.
Valentine was immediately engulfed by red with a tinge of yellow and purple. I felt my own adrenaline start to spike up again and my heartrate increased. The muscles in my arms and fists tensed. I had to work to keep my breathing normal.
Anger coursed through my veins—hot and intense. So intense it frightened me. I felt an instinct to yell. How could everyone keep talking like normal while I felt this way inside?
I pried my hands apart and snapped the connection to Valentine. I felt like I’d emerged from underwater and had to breathe in and out to compose myself.
I turned my attention back to Valentine, who was responding to Hen. Despite what he must be feeling inside, he looked completely poised and content on the outside. Jovial even. It made me wonder how much it would take to make the guy snap.
I changed tact and focused on Hen. I carefully took a step back so I was just a bit behind her.
“If that’s the case, I wouldn’t have needed to save his life just now,” Hen said. Her tone was sharp, but looking at her, I think she was quite satisfied with herself. She smirked, hands on her hips.
Curious, I tried imitating my rescuer’s body language, hoping no one noticed, especially her. I raised my chin a bit, but it still didn’t feel quite right. Then I noticed her relaxed shoulders. I improved my own posture, following her lead. Immediately, she was surrounded by a lime green aura. I smiled, feeling her elation and confidence.
I couldn’t help but notice a tinge of yellow in the orb of light surrounding her. Perhaps a tinge of anxiety lingered from the shop?
The read dissolved when Valentine mentioned me. “Santiago appears no worse for the wear. I believe Misty found something of note.”
“I found an object imbued by Arnold,” Misty said, holding out her fist.
“Really?” I asked excitedly. “What is it?”
She pulled her hand back. “Why do you think I’d tell you?”
“Come now, Misty,” Valentine said. “Be a good sport and share your clue.”
Misty glowered at him. Or rather, she pointed her glower at him. Nevertheless, she opened her hand to reveal a metal object. It had a tarnished gold exterior with dents and scuffs. Tiny engravings were etched into it.
“Is that a watch?” I asked. Hen and I stepped closer to look at it. Trinnia circled behind us and peered at it.
Misty pushed a tiny button and a lid flipped up, revealing. . . .
“Compass,” she said flatly.
The long, narrow, diamond shaped arrow inside spun around.
“Do you mind if I have a look?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.
“Yes,” Misty responded immediately.
“Misty. . . .” Valentine started but before he could finish, she was thrusting it into my hands.
I should’ve known Misty would immediately find a good clue. She really would make a better Seer than me. I pulled my phone out and snapped pictures from different angles. It took me a minute to realize that everyone was staring at me. “So I can look at it more later,” I said.
“Underlander magic. How fascinating,” Valentine said.
“This is Underlander magic too,” Corbyn said, pulling his Q-tip out with flourish.
I took one last picture before stuffing my phone back in my pocket.
Valentine took the compass from me.
“And you’re sure it’s from Arnold?” Valentine asked, his hand reverently touching the glass encasing the needle before handing it back to Misty.
Misty stuck her other hand out toward her aunt. “Give me a leaf and I’ll prove it.”
“Misty, you know you’re not allowed to perform magic before Initiation without permission,” Valentine said.
“Then give me permission,” Misty said.
“Nothing would give me greater pleasure,” Valentine said. “But there is paperwork to be–”
“How am I supposed to prove that I should be Seer if you won’t let me attempt Seer spells?” Misty asked. “Most people can’t do them at all. But if I can, it’s proof that I should be Seer for Flamingo Springs instead of some underlander.”
I was getting the subtle impression that this girl really didn’t like me.
Valentine made a show of thinking it over. Finally, he said, “I am willing to make this one exception. But let’s keep it between us.”
My cheeks burned and I maneuvered the leaf further back in my mouth, feeling like a felon. I could tell it wouldn’t last much longer, so I decided to go for broke and try to get a read on my competition.
Misty took a leaf from Trinnia and placed it on her tongue. Hoping I didn’t look as obvious as I felt, I held out my hand as though it too were holding the compass. Misty’s angular features contorted in a look of concentration, staring down the compass in her palm like her eyes were going to shoot lasers at it. I stared at her, equally intent.
And there it was. Unlike the previous reads I’d done, there wasn’t one single dominant color, but instead, a mixture of a green determined feeling, with a spike of yellow fear, all framed by a reddish anger, all swirling together.
“Runakay wayta peta,” she said.
I hadn’t heard much of the magical language yet, but her accent sounded much better than mine. She wasn’t just repeating random phrases like me—she knew what she was saying.
“Pata, not peta,” Trinnia corrected.
Or maybe she was just trying to make it sound good, I thought.
Misty and Valentine both glared at Trinnia, then Misty said, “Runakay wayta pata.”
There was a pause. My attention moved from Misty to the compass, causing the emotion read to disappear.
My heart skipped a beat as the pause became longer. What if it didn’t work? What if Misty’s bid for the Seership ended right now? If she couldn’t do Seer magic, would they automatically make me Seer? Would it even matter if I found some dumb necklace?
Next to me, Trinnia made a noise that I thought might be a sound of resignation. Even Valentine’s smile seemed to have a twinge of anxiety.
Up above, I heard a noise I’d grown to loath: the squawk of a seagull. I immediately stepped to my right bumping into Trinnia. I felt the rush of air go right by me but, miraculously, the loud SPLAT that came next, didn’t hit me. I’d somehow pushed Trinnia right into it.
“I’m so sor–”
“SHH!” Trinnia hissed, pointing to the compass. I looked over to see what distracted her from the seagull mess on her shoe.
The compass was glowing with a yellow light, which shot out of the top and formed into a fist-sized shape. Like clay being molded by invisible hands, a yellow nose pushed out of the side and part of the surface sunk in to form eye sockets. More details continued to be etched into it—ears, lips, hair, a chin.
Soon, a man’s head was slowly revolving above the compass. I don’t know what I expected Arnold the Awkward to look like, but it certainly wasn’t a man this handsome. He was elderly, with a defined jawline and stubble on his face.
I looked at Misty, trying to read her one more time as I hit the last dregs of the leaf. With my hand still out, the yellow, green, and red came quickly.
“Arnold the Awkward,” Misty said curtly. There was a quick flash of yellow then the light went out entirely as the leaf extinguished. What was that all about? I put my hand down, looking around for whatever spooked her.
“You did a possession regression,” Valentine said, his voice reverent. “You can do Seer magic. Surely, you’ve been touched by fate.”
He looked at me and, although his face was friendly, I got the message loud and clear: you’re going down, kid.
“Good job,” I said, swallowing. “Is there anything on it?”
“I don’t need anything else. This will take me to the next clue.”
“How do you kno–” Valentine started, but then cut himself off. “Never mind. I should know better than to question the methods of seers.”
Misty looked smug.
Valentine pointed his Miss America smile down in my direction once more.
“And Seer, what lead will you be following up on?”
“I think I found something imbued by Arnold in there,” I started, feeling self-conscious. I mean, what did I really have to go on?
“An imbued object?” Valentine asked, his smile momentarily faltering. “A verbal one?”
“No, but I could just sense that it came from Arnold.”
“How can you know that for sure when you’ve never met him?”
“It, um, felt like him,” I said lamely. “The poem thing over the mantle just seemed important.”
“The poem thing over the mantle,” Valentine repeated. “You mean the manifesto?”
“Yeah, that,” I said.
“Splendid,” Valentine said, condescendingly. I felt stupid. “Well, Misty, why don’t you follow your lead and Santiago, you can, well, follow yours. Good luck! Corbyn, come here for a moment.”
“Thanks,” I said dully as the fairy fluttered toward him.
“I’ll come with you too,” Hen said. “See ya, Misters!”
Misty scowled.