Mack and Stefan had been shrunk back to normal size again by the time Xiao returned to report that Valin had likewise shrunk upon reaching Amritsar.
“Did you see where he went? Would you be able to find it again?” Mack asked her as she shifted back to human shape.
“Easily. He and Paddy went into the Golden Temple.”
“The what now?”
At this point they were outside the airport, completely surrounded by khaki-uniformed men wearing khaki turbans and carrying nightsticks. These were Amritsar police. There was also a swiftly growing number of men in camouflage uniforms, some in turbans, some in berets, all armed with rifles. These were Indian military.
Beyond the ring of threatening police and military forces were regular folks with cell phones taking pictures. And somehow paparazzi were there clicking away from behind superlong lenses.
None of this worried Mack very much. First of all, he was done worrying about YouTube. It was just a given that they would be starring in yet another viral video.
And the armed men weren’t a great concern because, frankly, at this point the Magnificent Seven had more than enough Vargran to deal with mere humans. Indeed, Sylvie, Jarrah, and Charlie had combined to freeze the armed men in place, which was why Mack was not handcuffed and on his way to jail.
This meant that all the beards on all those armed men were also frozen in place. This definitely made them less terrifying. After all, a beard at rest will stay at rest, while a beard in motion may run right into you at some point.21
Dietmar had his phone out and was googling the “Golden Temple.” Actually he pronounced it “golten,” with a t. It irritated Mack, as most things about Dietmar did.
“It is a temple belonging to the Sikh religion,” Dietmar reported.
“Oy, don’t be calling someone’s religion sick,” Charlie said.
“Sikh not sick,” Dietmar explained.
“You’re doing it again?” Charlie demanded.
Xiao put a calming hand on his arm. Charlie needed a calming hand because he had been pretty shaken up seeing Xiao first turn into a dragon and then turn back into a girl. There was a lot of weirdness to being part of the Magnificent Twelve. He was one of the newer members and he’d already had to get used to a lot.
“Sikh. S-I-K-H,” Xiao spelled it out.
“Yeah,” Jarrah said, like she’d known it all along. (She hadn’t.)
“In fact, most of these fellows around us with the beards are Sikhs,” Dietmar pointed out.
“Yes, this is true.” This from Singh, whose reappearance made them all jump. Mack was adjusted to the fact that all the closest beards were spell-frozen. Singh had been out of range and he now threaded his way carefully through the rows of poised and motionless soldiers and police.
“No closer!” Mack cried, and covered his eyes. “No offense. I have a phobia about beards.”
“So you came to the Punjab?” Singh asked skeptically. “If you have a phobia of sharks, do you go swimming in the ocean?”
“Please don’t say shark!” Mack begged.
“What’s this Golden Temple, then?” Jarrah asked, trying to move past the awkwardness.
“It is a place very sacred to our religion,” Singh said.
“Then how come they let Valin in?” Mack demanded through his fingers. “I mean, even if he’s a Sikh, I don’t think Nine Iron is.”
Singh shrugged. (Not that Mack could see this.) And he said, “All faiths, all races, all sexes, everyone is welcome. Plus: free lunch.”
“I’d kill for a burger,” Stefan said at the mention of lunch.
Singh shook his head. (Again, this was lost on Mack.) “No, sir, we are vegetarian.” Then, seeing the blank look on Stefan’s face, he expanded. “We do not eat flesh. The meal would perhaps be lentils.”
“I’d kill for a lentil,” Stefan said.
“Is there anything you wouldn’t kill for?” Rodrigo asked. Like Charlie, he was still somewhat new to the Magnificent Twelve.
“Brussels sprouts,” Stefan said without hesitation, and the pure, distilled hatred in his voice convinced Mack that no matter where else they went, they should never go to Belgium.22
“Could Valin stay in the temple?” Mack asked.
“Not for long,” Singh said. “It’s a very busy place.”
“Okay then,” Mack said forcefully, or as forcefully as he could under the circumstances. “We go after Valin. Then: San Francisco.”
“Why San Francisco?” Sylvie asked.
Mack shrugged. “Grimluk said something about an orange bridge, then he said it was more of a rust red. And he mentioned a golden gate. That would have to be the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco.”
“So first the Golden Temple, and then the Golden Gate,” Sylvie said. “If only we could be sure that our futures were so golden.”
Sylvie didn’t know it yet, but she was right to harbor such doubts. She was in a quandary, Sylvie was. Valin was her half brother. And Mack, well, she had come to care about Mack. Of course Mack was blithely unaware that she had a tendre23 for him, or that however much she despised what Valin was doing, she still had to hope he would not be hurt.
“Will any of us survive?” Sylvie asked herself quietly. “Will loyalty or love mean anything in the end? Is it true, as Sartre said, that life begins on the other side of despair?”
Yep, she was philosophical, Sylvie was. She watched Mack slithering away atop Xiao’s rippling turquoise back and felt momentarily abandoned. Jarrah was feeling much the same, gazing after Stefan.
The two girls’ hands touched, and they offered each other a silent, reassuring squeeze.
Riding off with the wind in his face and Stefan’s knees in his back, Mack heard his phone ring. He didn’t answer it for fear he would drop it, and how was he going to replace a phone in the middle of all this?
He made a mental note to check for messages as soon as he landed, but he forgot, and so he did not receive Camaro’s worried voice mail.
Thus was Richard Gere Middle School24 doomed.