Z AND HIS FRIENDS walked toward the Vault. He knew there wasn’t a wormhole on the other side, but he did expect magic to be revealed. Instead, when he pushed aside the curtain, he found a sink, refrigerator, coffeemaker, microwave, and two round tables surrounded by cafeteria chairs. Along one wall was a row of lockers and a door with a restroom sign.

“It’s just a break room,” Z said, unable to hide his disappointment.

Against the back wall was an L-shaped desk with a mess of papers and a computer. A man sat there. He didn’t turn around when they entered. He just said, “Come in if you must, but don’t make too much noise.” He hunched over his keyboard and typed, glancing at his screen now and then.

“We’re here for the secrets of magic,” Z announced.

The man kept his focus on the computer.

“So where are they?” Z said. “Mrs. Garza gave us the keys.”

This time, the man held up his hand as if to tell them to wait. They did, but soon they got impatient again.

“Are you the sage?” Dominic tried.

The man sighed. “No. I’m the accountant.” He finally turned around. Instead of a sports logo, his baseball cap had a picture of a bulldog with MEATHEAD written underneath. He also wore reading glasses that sat halfway down his nose. He had dark skin, a mustache, and a frown. “Did you spend a hundred dollars or perform a trick?”

“Performed a trick,” the boys mumbled, not in exact unison, though they had tried. For some reason, Z felt like he was in detention.

“And Mrs. Garza gave you the keys?” the man asked, waving them over so they could hand him the index cards. He studied them and smiled. Then he stood up, his panza—stomach—hanging over his belt. He was wearing a gray T-shirt with another picture of a bulldog, only this one did not have any words. “Okay, then,” the man said, shaking their hands. “Welcome to the Vault. All the secrets to magic are behind you.”

Z turned and saw shelves full of books, binders, and videos. They were jam-packed without an inch to spare. The man walked to the kitchenette and opened the upper and lower cabinets. Inside were large plastic bins. These were a bit more organized, with labels like CUPS AND BALLS, GAFF CARDS, SILKS, THUMB TIPS, SPONGE BUNNIES, and SHELLS. But most were labeled MISCELLANEOUS.

He looked sternly at the boys. “These props are for practice. You can borrow anything in this room while you’re here, but if you want to take supplies home, you will have to buy them. I’m running a business, not a charity. ¿Entiendes?”

The boys nodded. The accountant seemed satisfied, so he returned to his desk and computer.

Z didn’t know where to start, and neither did his friends, because they just stood there, too. Well, Z decided, we can’t stand around all day. He went straight to the sponge bunnies and opened the bin. Inside were sponges shaped like rabbits. They’d been crammed so tightly that a dozen spilled out when Z opened it. The boys picked them up and examined them.

“You can barely tell they’re bunnies,” Dominic said. “Looks like someone used a cookie cutter to make them.”

The sponge bunnies were mostly yellow, but as the boys sifted through the box, they discovered some that were green, hot pink, or red. Most were no taller than a triple-A battery, but every now and then, they found a bigger one.

“Hey,” Z realized, “we’ve got bunny families in here.”

They dumped the bunnies onto one of the tables and started to group them. That’s when they noticed that there were sponge chicks, sponge hearts, and even sponge gremlins.

“What’s so magical about these?” Loop asked as he carefully examined a yellow bunny. Then he took a whole bunch and squeezed his fist closed. When he let go, the bunnies popped out, quickly resuming their shape. Z tossed a few but they floated down like empty ziplock bags, making them impossible to juggle. Dominic studied them like a detective with a magnifying glass.

“Beats me,” he said to answer Loop’s question. “Maybe they’re just toys.”

The accountant cleared his throat. “They are not toys,” he corrected. “This is a magic shop, not a toy store.”

“So what’s magical about them?” Dominic asked. The boys waited for a reply, but the man had his back toward them as he busily punched numbers on a calculator.

Z started to repack the bunnies, trying his best to keep the family groups together. Since there were so many, he had to squish them in order to replace the lid.

“It must be awful to be crammed in like that,” Z said.

“They’re sponges,” Loop said. “They don’t have feelings.”

“But what if they did? What if they were people all crammed in a tiny box?”

“They’re not people. They’re little sponges.”

“But what if they were?”

“They’re not, so it’s a dumb thing to worry about.”

Z hated how his friends acted like all his ideas were stupid.

Dominic jumped in. “If they were people, it would be awful, but since they’re sponges, it’s not.”

Z nodded, convinced that Dominic had taken his side, but when he saw Loop nodding, too, he realized that Dominic hadn’t picked a side at all.

They returned the bin and pulled out another, and because this one was labeled SHELLS, Z thought about the beach, how he never had any fun because his brothers and sisters hogged the kites, lawn chairs, and inner tubes. But this bin had nothing to do with the beach, because instead of whelks, scallops, and sand dollars, it was filled with money!

“It’s a pirate’s treasure chest!” Loop said, dipping his hand and letting the coins slip through his fingers.

Z picked out a quarter. “That means it’s probably cursed.” He turned it over and discovered that, yes, it was cursed, because the coin was all hollow inside.

Dominic grabbed one, too. “You’re right,” he said. “This is fake money.”

Z dumped the quarter back into the bin. “It’s a cursed treasure chest.”

Loop disagreed. “It’s a pirate chest, and what do pirates do?” Z had no idea, so his friend went on. “They go into villages and steal treasure. Then they hide the treasure and create secret maps with all kinds of codes and puzzles. This must be a decoy. To find the real money, we need a clue. It’s probably buried in here.”

Z perked up. Maybe Loop was right. In any case, he could sure use some money, so he started digging through the bin.

“Maybe it’s supposed to be symbolic,” Dominic wondered aloud. “Maybe the hollow coins are telling us that money isn’t really important—like when they say ‘Money can’t buy happiness.’”

“Are you crazy?” Z said. “Money can most definitely buy happiness.”

“Yeah,” Loop added, “and more video games, a giant TV for your bedroom, and any car you want.”

Dominic shook his head. Sometimes Z wished his friend could just pretend to believe in things like hidden treasure. After a while, they gave up their search for secret clues. After they put away the shells, they decided to investigate the THUMB TIPS bin.

As soon as they opened it, Loop couldn’t contain his excitement. “This is insane!” Inside were hollow, plastic thumbs. Loop slipped one on and showed his friends. “How about a thumbs-up?”

Z slipped on two and said, “I give it two thumbs-up.”

Dominic put thumb tips on every finger. “Wish I could help”—he giggled—“but I’m all thumbs.”

Loop put his hand on Dominic’s head. “I got you under my thumb.”

Z struck a hitchhiking pose. “Can I thumb a ride?”

Z couldn’t stop laughing at their silly thumb jokes and the way they tried to outwit one another. They were about to take off their shoes and put thumb tips on their toes when Ariel walked in.

“What are you doing?” she said, as angry as the meanest, most impatient teacher in the universe. “This is a magic shop, not a toy store.”

She sounded just like Z’s bossy sister. He tried to apologize, but she just glared at him. Ariel was definitely a different kind of girl. She did not notice things like curly eyelashes.