“Being an Auran just got gross.”

The Dark Auran kicked the nearest propane tank, spinning it sideways and launching a stream of fire across the opening. The bubble-gum web was instantly charred and the Rebels’ way out was cut off.

Spencer drew a plunger from his belt. The heat was intense here, with random spurts of fire dancing around them. “I’m armed,” Spencer said. “You don’t want to fight me.”

The boy laughed. “Spare me the bravado,” he said. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“So that’s why you collapsed the tunnel and dragged me up into a burning field?” Spencer said. “Because you don’t want to hurt me?”

“It was risky, I’ll admit,” said the boy. “But Aryl told me you’d be worth it.”

“You won’t get away with this,” Spencer said. “My friends will find me.”

“Of course they will,” he said. “But in order to reach you, they’ll have to go all the way back to the entrance and maneuver their way through the fire bursts. That should give us a bit of time to talk.”

The Dark Auran sat cross-legged on the ground, his face sweaty and blackened from working so close to the fire tanks.

“I’m Olin,” he said. “Aryl told me that he began a promising conversation with you last night. But unfortunately, you ran out of time.” He smiled. “I’m here to finish the chat.”

“I had nothing more to say to Aryl,” Spencer said. “I’ve kept it a secret. The girls still don’t know what I am.”

“And what exactly are you?” Olin said. “Like them? Or like us?”

“I don’t have your powers,” Spencer said. “And if powers lead me to where you are now, then I never want them.”

Olin rolled his eyes. “Of course you do. You’re one of us, Spencer. You just haven’t explored your abilities.”

“And I don’t need to,” Spencer argued. “I can live out my life just the way I am.”

Olin held up a finger. “You’re afraid.”

“I’m not afraid!”

“Deep inside, you know that the moment you embrace your full powers as an Auran, you give up any chance of living a normal life.”

Spencer had no argument to this. Olin had pinpointed his feelings better than Spencer could in his own heart. He knew it was true. Being an ageless kid was bad enough. Adding more powers to his situation would only increase the responsibilities in his future. Maybe he was afraid of reaching his full potential.

“Don’t fight it,” Olin said. “You made yourself an Auran, Spencer. Why not be the best Auran you can possibly be?” Olin let him think about it before adding, “The powers within you could turn the tides for your Rebel friends. You would be the secret weapon.”

Spencer wanted to go home. He wanted to walk up the stairs of Aunt Avril’s house, shut his bedroom door, and sit in his tidy bedroom. Well, he really wanted to take a long, hot shower first.

Spencer hadn’t made himself an Auran on purpose. He would gladly give up his position if he could. But there was no backing out. Only moving forward. If his inner powers could help the Rebels overthrow the BEM and save the world, then surely it would be worth it for him to learn about them.

“I know how to use bronze objects to see the warlocks,” Spencer said. “But that’s all I can do.”

“Weak,” Olin said. “Every Auran has that power. The girls have been doing it for hundreds of years. I’m asking you to dig deeper. To discover powers that only the Dark Aurans have.”

“Like what?”

The Dark Auran rapped gently on the bronze Pan around his neck. “I need you to remove this.”

Spencer stared. It looked just the same as Aryl’s had, equally dented and likely very uncomfortable. He tried to imagine what life would be like wearing a Pan, cursed to wander the landfill forever powerless.

“But isn’t it Glopified?” Spencer asked. “How can I take it off?”

Olin leaned forward, his voice soft and intense. “I want you to de-Glopify it, Spencer.”

De-Glopify? He’d never heard of anything like this. Sure, old Glopified weapons got maxed out after too much use, but Olin was talking about something entirely different. He was talking about removing the magic from the Pan.

“I can’t de-Glopify,” Spencer finally said. “Even if I could, why would I set you free? Didn’t they Pan you for a reason? Because you’re dangerous or something?”

“They Panned us because we stole something that they weren’t worthy to have.”

Spencer wondered what could possibly be so important. Whatever the Dark Aurans had stolen had led to almost two hundred years of imprisonment. “Why don’t the Aurans just order you to give it back? Isn’t that what they do? Boss you around?”

Olin made a disgusted face. “They’d like to have that kind of control, but we’re not easy to track down. The only way they could find what we stole would be to get the three of us together. We make sure that never happens.” Olin sighed. “They still manage to snag one of us from time to time. They grab onto the Pan and give us orders. ‘Glopify this,’ they say. ‘De-Glopify that.’”

Spencer was curious now. If the Dark Aurans had the power to Glopify and de-Glopify, then that indeed made them powerful. Spencer was already imagining himself with those powers, thinking of all the ways he could aid the Rebels.

“Who do you think made the Spade?” Olin pointed his thumbs at his chest. “I did. And the Glopified foundation for the Auran building, and the traps for the thirteen clues. . . . We did it all, because the other Aurans forced us.” He paused, his eyes boring into Spencer. “Who do you think made the Vortex?”

Spencer felt his blood run cold. Olin knew about the Vortex? No, more than that. Olin had created the Vortex. “I have a friend who—” Spencer started, but the Dark Auran cut him off.

“Marv,” Olin said. “Trapped in the Vortex. I know.”

Spencer was going to ask how he knew; then he remembered that Aryl had stolen Walter’s notebook of ideas from the truck. There were plenty of sketches about Operation Vortex in there.

“Let me cut you a deal,” Olin said. “I’ll teach you how to harness your Glopifying powers so you can un-Pan me. Do that, and I’ll tell you how to get Marv out of the Vortex.”

It was an uncomfortable proposition. Un-Panning a Dark Auran didn’t seem like the best idea. “What will you do when you’re free?” Spencer asked.

“McDonald’s,” Olin said. The answer caught Spencer off guard, and Olin chuckled. “I can’t tell you how many fast food bags come through the garbage. But I’ve never had a real hamburger, only scraps I can dig out of the trash. So that’s what I’ll do.” Olin leaned back. “I’ll free the other two Dark Aurans and we’ll get out of here. We’ll find McDonald’s and have a burger.”

Spencer stared at the boy with a sudden surge of pity. Eating scraps out of the garbage for hundreds of years was a horrible existence. Whatever the Dark Aurans had stolen couldn’t be that important.

“Okay,” Spencer said, making a quick decision. “Teach me my powers.”

Olin scooted across the blackened soil, drawing even closer to Spencer. “When you became an Auran, your body underwent a physiological change. As part of that change, Glop was introduced to your system.”

“What system?”

Olin rolled his eyes. “Your body.”

The answer surprised Spencer. “There’s Glop inside my body?”

“Just trace amounts,” he answered, “in all your bodily fluids—blood, tears, sweat, saliva, urine.”

Spencer couldn’t suppress a chuckled cough. Did Olin just say urine?

“Oh, grow up,” Olin hissed. But that was oddly funny too, since Spencer was never going to grow up. “Anyway,” Olin went on. “The Glop is most concentrated in blood and spit.”

Spencer didn’t like this topic. “Being an Auran just got gross.” He shuddered.

Olin lifted his hand in front of his mouth and spat into the palm. Spencer made a face and scooted away.

“The Glop in your body reacts to friction,” Olin said. He rubbed his hands together, smearing the glob of spit between his palms. “Spit’s the easiest to use since it’s always available.” He held out his damp hands. Spencer wanted to throw up. “Of course, it’s not working for me because of the Pan,” Olin said. “Normally, a bit of friction will activate the Glop, causing your hands to glow with the Aura.”

Spencer remembered the Aura. It had surrounded him after he had pounded the nail into the School Board last September.

“This part’s very important, so listen up,” Olin continued. “Right hand Glopifies. Left hand de-Glopifies.”

“Anything I touch?” Spencer asked.

Olin nodded. “Anything janitorial. And the powers of the Dark Aurans are not limited like those of the warlocks.”

“Limited?”

“Our stuff doesn’t max out.” Olin grinned rakishly. “It just gets stronger and stronger.”

“Like the Vortex.” Spencer nodded. “So how do I get Marv out of the bag?”

Olin stood up and stuck out his neck, eager for Spencer to un-Pan him. “Take this off and I’ll tell you how.”

Spencer rose awkwardly to his feet beside the Dark Auran. He lifted his hands and looked at the palms. “So,” he said, stalling. “I just spit?”

“They sure made it easy, didn’t they?” Olin said, his expression anxious as he wondered at the delay. “Any time now.” He stepped even closer. “Left hand, remember.”

“I . . .” Spencer stammered. His mouth felt dry, and the prospect of spitting into his hands was growing more and more repulsive.

“Just do it,” Olin said.

“But . . . I don’t like spit,” Spencer finally admitted. “I kind of have a germ thing . . .”

There was a sound behind him. Spencer whirled to see V and Rho leading the Rebels in a dead sprint for their position. They were zigzagging wildly, dodging flames as they erupted from the unstable tanks of propane.

Spencer spun back around, finally committing to do the job and de-Glopify Olin’s Pan. But in the brief moment that Spencer had turned, the Dark Auran had disappeared.

Spencer felt a surge of panic. He had wasted his chance to free Olin, his Glopifying power was still undiscovered, and he still didn’t know how to rescue Marv from the Vortex.

A small piece of paper fluttered at Spencer’s feet, the only piece of trash in the baked wasteland. He hadn’t noticed it a moment ago. Hurriedly, Spencer scooped it up and unfolded it.

There was a simple message, written in what must have been Olin’s handwriting.

Rho knows about you

“What happened?” V asked. “Where’s Olin?”

“I don’t know,” Spencer said, crumpling the paper into his hand. “He was here one second and gone the next. Must have dropped back into the tunnel.”

“What did he tell you?” V asked.

Spencer’s eyes moved to Rho, but she was looking down. Olin’s note said she knew. Rho already knew that Spencer was an Auran! He had suspected it, feared it, even. But as long as she didn’t say anything to the others, then Spencer would be safe.

“What did Olin tell you?” V asked again.

But Spencer was spared from answering as the propane tank right next to him erupted with flame. Walter pulled him aside as the fire singed his backpack. The note tumbled from Spencer’s hand and whipped into the hot fire.

“Nothing,” Spencer finally answered. “Olin didn’t say anything.”

Spencer watched the note turn to white ash and scatter on the breeze.