Chapter 4

WEDNESDAY, MAY 13

5:12 P.M.

INTERROGATION ROOM 6, MAGIX HEADQUARTERS

I had been sitting there for only a few minutes, wondering when they would dim the lights that were shining in my eyes—or at least untie me from the chair—when the door opened.

I turned, expecting to see Frank Lawden again. But this time it was a girl who looked to be about my age. So far, she was the first person in Magix Headquarters that I’d seen not wearing a gray suit. Instead, she wore a denim jacket over a green shirt. She had deep brown skin, and her black hair was done in lots of small braids all pulled back into a ponytail.

Strangely, she was plugging her nose as she quietly shut the door behind her.

“Mason Mortimer Morrison?” she asked in a nasal voice.

“That’s me.” Why did all these people know my middle name?

The girl let go of her nose and sniffed.

“Did something smell funny out there?” I asked.

“No,” she said defensively. “Why?”

“You were plugging your nose.”

“That’s irrelevant,” she said. “I’m here to prepare you for your trial with the committee.”

I raised an eyebrow at her. “And they chose you because . . . ?”

“Magix thought you might be more comfortable with someone closer to your age.”

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Avery,” she said. “Avery Laaa . . . Lobster.”

“Your last name is La Lobster?”

“Just Lobster,” she said. “It’s a family name.”

I nodded. “That’s what last names are.”

“Anyway, I’m here to answer any of your questions.” She crossed the small room and seated herself across the table.

“I didn’t think I was allowed to have a lawyer,” I said.

“Oh, I’m not a lawyer,” said Avery. “I’m an apprentice detective with Magix. So, of course I’ve been trained to deal with criminals.”

“Then I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed, because I’m not a criminal.”

She exhaled slowly, shaking her head. “That’s what they all say.”

“You’re here to answer my questions?” I checked. “Let’s just pretend like I don’t know anything. You can start at the beginning. Treat me like a regular person who doesn’t know anything about magic. What do you call those people? Ignorants?”

“They said you were stubborn. I guess I’m wasting my time,” she said, standing up.

“No, wait!” I lurched forward against the straps on my chair. I took a deep breath. “Please?”

Avery didn’t even try to hide her curiosity as she looked at me. She seemed to relax a little, sitting once more. “What do you want to know?”

“How did that music box get magical powers?” That seemed like a good place to start, since it was the beginning of my confusion.

“The magic core,” she said, like it should be obvious.

I raised my eyebrows, silently begging her to explain.

“The center of the Earth is filled with magic,” Avery expounded. “There’s no way for it to get to the surface on its own, so it has used people as a conduit for thousands of years.”

“How?” I asked.

“Well, magic is attracted to goodness,” she said. “Whenever someone does something good in the world, the magic level rises. Eventually, someone does something that causes it to boil over.”

“And then what?” I asked. “The person turns magical?” I gasped. “Is that what happened to me?”

“No, no,” she said. “People can’t turn magical. That’s not how it works. Good people are just the reason the magic surfaces.”

“Then what?” I asked. “Magic just comes shooting out of the ground? I’d think people would have noticed that before.”

“The magic isn’t visible,” said Avery. “And when it boils up, it doesn’t just go anywhere at random. The magic trickles into specific objects that mean something to the person who caused the boil-over.”

I scratched my head. “I don’t think I understand.”

She drummed her fingers on the table in thought. “How do I explain this . . . ?” Avery muttered. “Let’s say you’re just a regular person.”

“I am,” I said.

“No,” she replied. “You’re Magix’s most wanted.”

I sighed. “Fine. Pretend I’m a regular person.”

“Okay. So, you’re going about your life, and then one day you do something really amazing.”

“Get an A on my book report?” I suggested.

She shook her head. “Probably has to be more amazing than that. Maybe you save a dog from getting hit by a car, or you give all your money to the poor. . . . It has to be an act of true goodness. That can include bravery, kindness, creativity . . . stuff like that.”

“Okay. So, I do something amazing.”

“Well, if the magic in the earth’s core has been building up, bubbling higher, looking for a way out,” continued Avery, “then your act of goodness tops it off and opens the way. The magic comes up, and it soaks into any item you may have touched up to that point in your life. Specifically, items that were significant to you for some reason.”

“Whoa,” I said. “So, who created that magic music box?”

“That’s a good question,” she said. “And we’ll probably never know. It had to be someone who had once touched the music box and then done something worthy of making the magic boil over. Magix has given up on trying to learn the origins of the magical items. There are just too many possibilities, and it’s impossible to track.”

“Okay,” I said. “So, what exactly is Magix?”

“We’re the worldwide organization responsible for managing all of these magical boons.”

“So, Magix’s goal is to capture all the magical boons in the world to make sure no one can use them?”

Again, Avery looked confused. “Not even close,” she said. “Do you know what the word boon means?”

I shook my head. I’d figured it was a special word that Magix had made up.

“A boon is like a blessing,” Avery said. “It’s something that benefits you, or gives you a boost. Magix wants as many boons as possible out in the world. They’re meant to help people. When an Ignorant person comes into contact with one, a little bit of the magic rubs off on them. It makes their day go a little smoother, makes everything around them better for a time.”

“That’s definitely not what happened with me and the music box,” I muttered.

“That’s why we know you’re not an Ig,” said Avery. “Knowledge is power. Power is magic.”

“That’s the same thing Mr. Lawden said to me,” I said. “What does it mean?”

“Most people don’t know anything about real magic,” said Avery. “That’s what keeps them safe.”

“And you call them Ignorants?” I said. “Seems kind of rude.”

“Not rude, just the truth,” said Avery. “We call them Igs for short.”

“And what do you call people who do know about magic?”

“Eds,” said Avery.

“Why?”

“If someone is able to use the magic items, it’s because they’re Educated,” she clarified, “which is the opposite of being Ignorant. See, if an Ig had opened that music box today, it would have improved their day, times ten.”

“But it didn’t!” I cried. “It ruined everything!”

“And that’s why we know you’re an Ed,” she said. “Those of us with knowledge of magical boons don’t simply get a little bit of good luck rubbed off. The knowledge makes us able to use the full power of the magic in the item.”

“Knowledge is power. Power is magic,” I said, finally understanding. But my story still didn’t make sense. “Why did I activate the music box’s true magic if I didn’t have any knowledge that it was a boon?”

Avery shook her head. “You did have knowledge.”

“That’s not true!” I yelled loud enough to make Avery flinch.

“I’m sorry, but it has to be,” she said. “There’s no other explanation for how you could have used the music box’s magic. You’re an Ed. You had to have knowledge.”

I slumped in my chair. “This doesn’t make any sense. If Magix wants boons out in the world, then why was I arrested for using one?”

“Magix wants as many boons as possible for Ignorant people to use,” explained Avery. “That’s the way magic is supposed to go. When Igs brush up against the boons and a little bit of the magic rubs off, that action helps to raise the core magic level. When people are having a good day, they’re more likely to do acts of goodness, which will eventually cause the magic to boil over again. But when Eds use their knowledge to access a magical item’s full power, it doesn’t do anything to make the level rise.”

It sounded ridiculous, but I actually believed everything she was saying. How could I not? Earlier today, my class and I had experienced the impossible. It was just nice to be finally getting some answers. I only wished that I wasn’t the bad guy in this story.

“All right,” I said. “Tell me more about this committee that’s reviewing my case.”

“Fifteen of Magix’s most powerful administrators,” she said. “Basically, three members from each division are elected to serve on the committee for a term of five years.”

“What are the divisions?” I asked.

“Investigation Division,” she said. “That’s everybody you’ve met so far. They’re in charge of tracking unauthorized uses of magical boons and generally keeping the peace.”

“Is Frank Lawden their boss?” I asked.

My question made Avery fidget a little bit. She nodded. “Yeah. He’s definitely the boss of Investigation. He also oversees the Memory Correction Division—”

“Are they the ones who zapped Mrs. Dunlow and the rest of my class before sending them back?”

She nodded. “And the Boon Recovery Division.”

“And I’m guessing they’re the ones searching the jungle for the music box,” I said, remembering what Nguyen had said about sending in a team. “What are the last two groups?”

“Boon Identification Division,” answered Avery. “They’re in charge of finding out what new boons can do if their full magic is used. And the Manipulation Division. They experiment with boons to refine or alter their magical effects.”

“So, how do I convince a committee full of magical experts that I’m innocent?” I asked.

Avery stared at me for a long minute. Long enough that it got a little uncomfortable for me.

“Are you innocent?” she asked.

“YES!” I hollered. Hoping for the first time since I’d opened that music box that someone might believe me.

“Hmm . . . ,” she mused, narrowing her eyes as if to inspect me closer. “Well, the committee’s definitely going to find you guilty. They have overwhelming proof against you for that big crime last month.”

“What crime?” I asked. “What proof?”

Suddenly, an alarm on Avery’s wristwatch started chirping. She sucked in a breath. “I have to go.” She turned sharply toward the door.

“Wait!” I called. “That’s it? You’re not even going to tell me what my major crime was? No tips for the committee?”

She glanced back at me and shrugged. “Just tell them the truth.”

“Will you be there?” I asked hopefully. It might have been nice to see a familiar face.

Avery grimaced. “They won’t let an apprentice detective anywhere near the Hall of Justice.”

“Thanks for finally giving me some answers,” I said as she gripped the doorknob.

“Mason?” she said without looking back. “Do me a favor and don’t tell anyone that I was here.”

Then Avery Lobster pinched her nose shut and slipped through the doorway.