Chapter 2

WEDNESDAY, MAY 13

2:21 P.M.

MIDDLE OF NOWHERE, SAHARA DESERT, MAYBE

Under arrest? But I hadn’t done anything wrong! Okay, so transporting my teacher and entire class to some of Earth’s most extreme climates might have been considered wrong, but it wasn’t my fault!

I watched the big guy in the gray suit move closer, his feet churning through the loose desert sand, his top hat casting a shadow over his face.

In that moment, staring at those silvery handcuffs, I had a crazy idea. I wondered if my dad had had a similar thought when the cops had surrounded him. He hadn’t been able to get away. But I had something magical lying right in front of me. . . .

The man was almost to me when I leaped forward, snatched the music box out of the sand, and flipped open the wooden lid.

At once, the orange desert disappeared as I was transported to a new environment. This time I found myself in a dense jungle, my wind-up song met with a chorus of chirping birds. Low-hanging vines drooped from towering moss-covered trees.

As before, Mrs. Dunlow and my entire class were transported with me. And much to my disappointment, so were the two strangers in the gray suits and top hats.

Basically, I was still in danger of being arrested. Only now it would happen in the jungle instead of the desert.

But the teleportation had given me the element of surprise, and I took advantage of the man’s momentary confusion to take off running. I didn’t really have a plan as I leaped over a decomposing log, snapping the music box shut. All I could really think was, Don’t get arrested. Don’t end up like Dad.

Maybe if I got far enough away from the others, the music box would transport me alone. I could keep opening it and shutting it until I landed somewhere I recognized. Preferably somewhere closer to Indiana.

Damp ferns slapped my legs as I sprinted through the dim jungle. But I could hear the man in the gray suit running right behind me.

“Mason Morrison!” he shouted. “Running will only make this worse. Surrender the boon and turn yourself in!”

Yeah, right! I was obviously faster than this guy, and I could run longer than—

I came to a screeching halt as I burst through the jungle trees and found myself at the top of a massive cliff. Far below, I saw a wide river tumbling along. In the movies, people always jumped, somehow landing safely in the water. In real life, that didn’t seem like such a good idea.

I turned as the gray-suited man arrived at the edge of the trees, stopping just a few feet away from me. He raised his hands in a peaceful gesture, his top hat tilted slightly from his run.

“My name is Special Agent John Clarkston,” he began. “I’m with Magix, Investigation Division. But you already know that.”

“Nope. Never heard of it,” I answered.

“Come on,” he said. “We both know that’s not possible. I want you to toss the music box toward me—slowly.”

I clutched the small box with both hands. “And what if I don’t?”

“You’re Magix’s most wanted criminal, Mason.”

Most wanted criminal? This was nonsense!

“Agent Nguyen and I are authorized to bring you in by any means necessary,” he said. “Obviously, I don’t want it to come to that. You’re just a . . . a kid.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said. “I didn’t even know magic was real until I started failing my book report.”

“This is the end of the road, Mason.” Clarkston started reaching up for his top hat. “You’re coming back to Magix to face the consequences of your crimes.”

“What if I come?” I asked. “What would you do with me?”

“Honestly, there’s not much hope for you after what you did,” he said, slowly taking off his black hat. “I’d expect a life sentence.”

Locked up forever? All because of my terrible book report? No way!

I didn’t want to know how Special Agent John Clarkston planned to bring me in with force. I had a plan of my own. Risky? Yes. But any risk was better than getting taken in by the crazy magic police.

“Sorry,” I said. “But you’ve got the wrong guy.”

Then I jumped off the cliff.

My plan was to get some distance between Clarkston and me, and then flip open the music box midfall. The music would start playing, the fox would chase the goose, and if all went as expected, I’d be safely transported to a new location before I hit the river.

Unfortunately, things did not go as expected.

The moment I dropped off the edge of that cliff, the wind whipped the music box right out of my hands.

Plunging to my certain death, I let out a terrified howl. Just then, I saw Agent Clarkston leap over the edge and plummet rapidly toward me, his arms lowered to his sides. He gripped his top hat in one hand, and it flapped in the wind.

He caught up to me in a flash, his left arm reaching around my middle. In total panic, I clung to him like he might be able to save my life, his top hat pressed against my chest.

With his free hand, Agent Clarkston reached into the flapping hat and pulled something out.

“Seriously?” I cried. “A pillowcase?”

The fabric was pink, with little red hearts all over it. What good was that going to do us? There wasn’t even a pillow inside to pad our landing!

Suddenly, the pillowcase filled with wind, billowing like a huge parachute. Our breakneck fall slowed and we were soon drifting peacefully downward, Clarkston somehow steering us gently toward the far bank of the river.

We touched down ungracefully, tumbling onto the muddy ground. Clarkston recovered much quicker than I did. Before I could move, he pulled both of my arms behind my back, and I felt the cold steel handcuffs clipping into place around my wrists.

“I told you running would only make it worse,” he said, stepping aside and tucking the pillowcase, which had returned to its regular size, back into his top hat. When his hand reappeared, he was holding a pair of tweezers. How much stuff did he store in that old-fashioned hat?

“You didn’t happen to see where your boon landed?” he asked with a threatening tone.

“If by boon you mean music box, then no,” I answered. “I’m guessing it landed in the river.”

“I was afraid of that.” Clarkston sighed wearily. Then he held up the tweezers and spoke into the pointy end like it was a microphone. “Special Agent Nguyen, I have the suspect in custody. What’s your status?”

To my surprise, the tweezers spoke back. The voice was crystal clear and obviously belonged to the woman who had arrived with Clarkston.

“I made contact with Magix Headquarters,” she answered through the tweezers. “I let them know that our brick archway was left behind in the Sahara. They’re working out a new rendezvous point with the Doorman. Stand by.”

“I’m going after the music-box boon,” said Clarkston.

“Negative,” answered Nguyen. “You can’t pursue the boon with a criminal in tow. Bring the boy up to me. We can send a recovery team back to the jungle once he’s properly locked up.”

Clarkston fumbled in his top hat for a moment before retrieving a blue marker. “I can put him out.”

“Negative, Clarkston!” Nguyen’s voice sounded more forceful this time. “If we’re right about him, this kid isn’t an ordinary criminal. He could be carrying immunity boons. Just bring him back to my location. Magix can deal with the music box later.”

Clarkston looked downriver and grunted. “Understood.” He pulled off the marker’s cap. “But I’m still putting him out so he doesn’t try to escape.”

“Do what you’ve got to do,” answered Nguyen.

Clarkston lowered the tweezers and turned to me.

“Put me out?” I asked. That didn’t sound too friendly.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “This shouldn’t hurt a bit.” He reached out with the marker and drew a blue line on my forehead.

I tried to shout, “Hey! What was that for?” But the words came out all jumbled. I suddenly felt very sleepy, the sound of the rushing river soothing me.

Then everything went black.