The Candy Shop War, Vol. 2: Arcade Catastrophe Page 13

  “How much trouble am I in?” Lindy asked hesitantly.

  “I should be the least of your worries,” Mr. Stott said. “You’re now involved in something truly perilous. I can’t undo what you have done. But I’ll do my best to help you.”

  She gave a nod and glanced at Nate. “Thanks for coming with me.”

  “Sure,” he said.

  She flew over to the stairway and glided up out of sight. Mr. Stott followed her with his eyes. He waited until he heard the door to their apartment open and close, then motioned for Nate to follow him to his private office.

  Mr. Stott closed the door and stood near Nate, speaking in a low voice. “How long do the stamps last?”

  “At least two days,” Nate said. “Then I guess the power starts to fade.”

  “You have real flight?” Mr. Stott asked. “Like Peter Pan? Like Superman?”

  “Yeah,” Nate said.

  “Does it tire you?”

  “No, not at all,” Nate realized. “Less than walking. I mean, you have to focus. If you crash you can get hurt, so you do have to concentrate. But I’ve been flying most of the day, and my body isn’t tired at all.”

  “Very potent magic,” Mr. Stott said. “I doubt I could devise such an enhancement if I spent the rest of my days slaving on the project.” His expression changed, becoming more concerned. “What has he told her?”

  “Nothing,” Nate said. “I’m not even sure if he knows.”

  “How could he not know?” Mr. Stott fretted. He folded his arms. “I suppose it’s possible. Maybe so much time has passed. One sibling could be considerably older than the other. Or they might have been separated in their youth. But I suspect he must know. What is he after?”

  “We’re not supposed to tell,” Nate said. “He’s on a treasure hunt. Some great thingamajig made by a guy called Iwa Iza.”

  “Interesting,” Mr. Stott said, stretching the word out. “He’s looking for Uweya.”

  “That’s the word he used,” Nate said. “What is it?”

  Mr. Stott gave a slow shrug, raising his hands vaguely. “A legend. Iwa Iza was a great mage who lived long, long ago. His creations interacted with the environment. He allegedly made a bowl that could summon a tornado, and a drum that could cause an earthquake. His greatest creation, Uweya, is shrouded in mystery. I know of it, but I know little about it. I’m not sure anyone does.”

  “Jonas must know something,” Nate said.

  “He is certainly behaving as though Uweya were more than a myth,” Mr. Stott agreed. “I’ll start researching the subject. Quietly, of course.”

  “What do we do about Lindy?” Nate asked.

  Mr. Stott shook his head sadly. “Our options are limited. We could let the Battiatos take her away. They would have to imprison her. I expect such a course would destroy any chance of her being rehabilitated and living a normal life. Otherwise, with her in your stamp club and Jonas aware of her, we would just need to ride this out and see where it goes.”

  “She seems loyal to us,” Nate said.

  “Jonas could have a plan to turn her,” Mr. Stott said. “I don’t think he can undo the Clean Slate, but what do I know? I would have considered the flight enhancement he gave you virtually impossible. Would you mind if I studied the ink?”

  “Go ahead,” Nate said.

  Mr. Stott stared at the back of Nate’s hand. He examined it with a magnifying glass. He sniffed it. He rubbed it with a few cloths of different textures. “Interesting. I suppose I can do further studies on Lindy. Have you learned anything about John Dart?”

  “There are many rooms at Arcadeland that Lindy can’t see. We haven’t had much chance to investigate. Mr. Stott, you wouldn’t turn Lindy over to the Battiatos?”

  “No, not while she remains loyal to us. I’m glad you’re in this Jet club with her. You need to keep an eye on her, Nate. If you have any misgivings . . .”

  “You’ll be the first to know,” Nate assured him. “I like the new Lindy, but I’d rather throw her in jail for the rest of her life than have Belinda White back.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Simulcrist

  By the following afternoon, the training facility had begun to feel crowded. Roman had joined the Tanks, Trevor had earned his racecar stamp, and, after receiving his submarine stamp, Pigeon showed up with a pretty blonde named Mindy. Nate and Summer had helped their friends earn tickets that morning, although the great majority were won by Trevor and Pigeon using Peak Performance.

  While the other Jets took a water break, Nate hung out near the ceiling, watching as Summer, Roman, and Derek brutalized punching bags. Pigeon and his new teammate were in the pool. Since they hadn’t surfaced for half an hour but still swam around like dolphins, they could obviously breathe underwater. Lacking fellow club members, Trevor zipped around the warehouse at astonishing speeds, trying out various activities alone. Nate was most impressed when Trevor grabbed a football and threw a long bomb to himself.

  As Nate tried to assess how the Jets would fare against the other clubs, he had to admit that both the Tanks and the Racers intimidated him. If the Jets could stay in the sky, nobody would be able to touch them. But the speed of the Racers and the strength of the Tanks would be problematic on the ground or in confined areas.

  The Subs didn’t seem like much of a threat, unless an assignment had to be carried out underwater. Which probably meant that part of the treasure hunt would involve getting wet, or else why would Jonas have created sub stamps in the first place?

  Before any of the other clubs had arrived, Nate and his teammates had experimented with how much weight they could carry while flying. The incident when Summer kept him grounded had left Nate concerned. He discovered that holding a 30-pound dumbbell in each hand was pretty close to his limit. The exertion required to fly with that much weight felt like an uphill sprint, and his stability became erratic. Twenty-pound dumbbells required effort but weren’t too bad, especially over short distances. He had hardly noticed any difficulty when carrying tens.

  Chris had theorized that exerting themselves by carrying heavy weights might eventually allow them to handle higher maximum loads. Nate thought it was worth a try, but he suggested they shouldn’t reveal their weakness by doing it in front of the other clubs. The rest of the Jets had agreed.

  Roman had pointedly avoided acknowledging Chris, Risa, or Nate all afternoon. Nate had caught him staring a few times, but Roman had repeatedly averted his gaze. For the most part, he kept his head down and focused on training with Summer and Derek.

  “Nate!” Chris called. “U-turn!”

  Chris was flying his way clutching a long jump rope. Nate held up his hands and tried to mentally brace himself. He had come up with this idea earlier in the afternoon, and they had practiced it for the last hour.

  Without slowing, Chris tossed one end of the rope to Nate, who caught it and focused on holding steady. Chris was doing his best to turn sharply, so Nate never pulled against his full weight, but the force was still almost enough to jerk the rope from his hands. Unable to remain completely stable, Nate hung on and managed to help Chris slingshot around in a much tighter turn than would have otherwise been possible.

  “Good one!” Risa called. “That might have been the best yet!”

  Chris flew over to hover near Nate. “Not bad.”

  “You caught me daydreaming,” Nate replied. “Maybe the trick is to not pay attention. Hey, do you think we should talk to Roman?”

  “I don’t know,” Risa said, drawing near with Lindy. “He’s avoided us ever since we let him know the Jet stamps were gone.”

  “He was kind of a jerk,” Chris said. “It made me feel a little better about him getting left out.”

  “If we’re going to compete with him, we should try to clear the air,” Nate said. “Those Tanks are strong. We don’t want him hating us more than necessary. You guys are friends, right?”

  “We know each other pretty well,” Chris said.

  “H
e and I have been friends since we were little,” Risa said.

  “Then Nate’s right,” Lindy agreed. “You should talk to him.”

  Risa sighed unenthusiastically, but nodded.

  Nate led the way down to where Roman was throwing a large medicine ball in a triangle with Summer and Derek. In their hands the bulky exercise tool might have weighed no more than a basketball. The Tanks paused as the Jets approached.

  “Hi, Rome,” Risa said.

  “Hey, guys,” Roman replied without much warmth. “What do you want?”

  “We just hope there are no hard feelings about the jet stamps,” Chris said. “Nobody was trying to exclude you.”

  “I know,” Roman said. “Summer told me how Lindy was earning stamps on her own. Nate didn’t know. It might have been a lucky break for me. Being a Tank feels really good. Even if I had the chance, I don’t think I’d switch.”

  “I assumed it was you who had taken the second-to-last jet stamp,” Nate explained.

  Roman waved away the comment. “I get it. I don’t blame you or Lindy. You and Summer and your other friends worked together to win tickets. If Chris and Risa had done that for me, I would have had my stamp days ago.”

  “We weren’t sure if it was allowed,” Risa said uncomfortably.

  “We had to train,” Chris said. “We gave you money.”

  “You did,” Roman said. “It’s okay, I understand, I don’t hate you guys. I appreciate the money you shared. But things have definitely changed. We’re on different teams. It’ll be fun to beat you.”

  “I guess that’s the idea,” Chris said, hands on his hips. “Good luck.”

  “Keep doing that trick with the ropes,” Derek said. “I bet you guys could join Cirque du Soleil.”

  “It’s not cool like medicine balls,” Nate fired back. “I thought they stopped making those things in 1905.”

  Risa held up her hands like a peacemaker. “We don’t need to get nasty.”

  “You guys do your thing, we’ll do ours,” Chris said. “Have fun on the ground.” He soared up into the air, spinning as he curved first left, then right, flying with impressive speed and precision.

  Nate and the others followed suit, leaving the Tanks to stare up at them.

  *****

  Under a pale moon, Nate, Trevor, Summer, Lindy, and Pigeon met behind the candy shop. It had been a hot day, and the night was warm.

  “Sorry we couldn’t really talk earlier,” Summer said. “The other Tanks are really getting into the rivalry between the clubs.”

  “Mindy is too,” Pigeon said.

  “Everybody will,” Nate predicted. “But we need to remember our real purpose.”

  “How do you like being a Sub?” Summer asked Pigeon.

  “It’s pretty amazing when I’m in the water. I can breathe it just like air. And swimming feels like flying. We might not move as fast as the Jets, but we can move way faster than a normal swimmer. I bet we could outswim sharks.”

  “Anything else?” Trevor wondered. “Is it just that you swim well and breathe water?”

  “There are little things,” Pigeon said. “I can feel where objects are positioned in the water around me without looking. Like an extra sense. And when I’m underwater, I feel a little stronger than normal. If you guys have to go against us in the water, you’ll be in trouble. Out of the water, the sub stamp doesn’t make much difference. Mindy is a competitive swimmer, so she’s in heaven.”

  “What about you, Trevor?” Nate asked.

  “I can be normal, like now, or I can go into an altered state where everything around me slows down. I call it race mode. I can slip in and out of it whenever I want. It’s really weird. It feels like I’m moving at normal speed, but everything else is three or four times slower. I’m sure that to you guys, it must look like I’m pretty fast.”

  “That’s an understatement,” Lindy said.

  “Any other benefits?” Pigeon asked.

  Trevor shook his head. “I have an extra gear, a second altered state, where things get three or four times slower again. I still feel like I’m moving at normal speed, but it wears me out quickly. I can only stay in it for around thirty seconds.”

  “Which would feel like three seconds or so to everybody else,” Pigeon calculated.

  Trevor nodded. “Jonas told me that my body is reinforced to handle the stresses of high speeds. I guess that’s an extra perk.”

  “Does the first altered state wear you out?” Summer asked.

  “A little,” Trevor replied. “I can handle race mode for much longer than the fastest state before needing a rest, though.”

  “We’ve all got impressive powers,” Nate said. “It could come in handy when we need to turn on Jonas.”

  “The only downside is we can’t use any candy without risking side effects,” Pigeon said.

  “I know,” Nate replied. “I wish I could use Peak Performance while flying. The result would be amazing.”

  “Can you imagine?” Lindy gushed. “That would be so cool.”

  “Even without other enhancements,” Pigeon said, “we have a good mix of powers. And they seem to be really stable.”

  Trevor picked up a pebble and started tossing it from one hand to the other. “What do you guys think about Jonas asking us to bring him something we treasure?”

  “I’m not sure,” Summer said.

  “Must be for some kind of magic,” Pigeon guessed.

  “Are you guys going to do it?” Trevor wondered.

  “Looks like we have to if we want to stay undercover,” Lindy said.

  “I don’t love the idea,” Pigeon said. “Especially since I don’t know what he’s going to do with my jacket.”

  “You’re bringing your leather jacket?” Summer asked. There was no doubting what jacket he meant. The studded leather jacket looked like something a tough biker would wear.

  Pigeon shrugged. “I really like it, even though I never wear it anymore. I could tell most kids at school thought I looked like a poser.”

  “You shouldn’t let other kids get to you like that,” Summer said. “They’d get used to it.”

  “It just wasn’t worth it to me,” Pigeon said. “Besides, it’s summer now. I wouldn’t be using it anyways.”

  “I wish we knew what Jonas plans to do with our stuff,” Trevor grumbled.

  “I wish I knew what he did with John and Mozag,” Lindy said. “Unless we hand over something, we might never find out.”

  “It’s true,” Nate said. “Our main goal is to find where they’re holding John and Mozag and to bust them out. We’ll probably have to take some risks to do it. You guys can decide for yourselves, but I’m planning to bring something to Jonas. Everyone keep alert. We need to start making more progress.” He stretched. “I’m getting tired. I’m about ready to call it a night.”

  “Wait,” Trevor said, chucking his pebble into the bushes. “I need some help. It’s my mom’s birthday tomorrow. I’ve been so busy with all of this that I haven’t gotten her a present. What should I do? I’m going to get the look if I don’t have anything for her!”

  “Coupon book,” Nate said without hesitation. “Works every time. They’re easy to make, and they cost practically nothing. Make coupons for a free hug, a free kiss—stuff she’ll like. Make some to sweep the floor, wash the dishes, walk the dog, whatever makes sense. Your mom will be really happy, and the best part is she’ll probably lose the coupons and forget about them. My mom has never actually used more than one or two.”

  “Good call,” Trevor said.

  “Beware, though,” Pigeon inserted. “I tried it and my mom kept the coupons in a special place. She used every single one. I began to suspect she made photocopies or something. They just kept coming.”

  Summer giggled. “Counterfeit coupons.”

  “It wasn’t the worst, but it added up to lots of chores,” Pigeon said. “Make sure you put down stuff that you’re willing to do.”

  Trevor looked thoughtful. �
�My mom is definitely the type who would love them but lose track of them. I’m going to try it.”

  “Good luck,” Summer said. “We better get home.”

  *****

  Later that night, Pigeon and Diego crept into their front yard through the side gate. Pigeon winced when it clattered shut. After a few tense moments, the house remained dark and quiet.

  “Do you smell anyone spying on us?” Pigeon asked.

  “No,” Diego replied. “But I can smell that you’re nervous.”

  “I don’t want my aunt to catch me,” he replied. “And I don’t want Jonas White to notice me sneaking info to his enemies.”

  “Far as I can tell, we’re all clear.”

  Pigeon saw the white van parked down the street, lights off. He trotted there with Diego at his side. The door opened and Pigeon climbed in. Diego entered as well.

  “No lights came on when you opened the door,” Pigeon noticed.

  “We made a few modifications,” Ziggy replied.

  “Thanks for coming,” Victor said. “Learn anything new?”

  Pigeon explained about their new powers and how they worked. He told how Jonas White wanted each of them to hand over a special item in order to continue in their respective clubs.

  “That will come to no good,” Ziggy said. “A magician would use such an item to establish some form of connection with you.”

  “If the item is handed over voluntarily, the potency would increase,” Victor noted.

  “Did you learn why he’s here?” Ziggy asked. “What he’s after?”

  “He wants a treasure made by a guy called Iwa Iza.”

  “Iwa Iza?” Ziggy exclaimed.

  “Do you know much about him?”

  Ziggy shook his head and made a befuddled gesture. “He’s a figure from history books. He lived, what, two thousand years ago?”

  “At least,” Victor said.

  “I guess he made something called Uweya,” Pigeon said.

  “Never heard of it,” Victor said.

  “Me neither,” Ziggy grumbled. “But we have access to books. We’ll look into it.”

  “Anything else?” Victor asked.

  “Jonas made it clear that we had better not work against him,” Pigeon said. “He threatened me if I showed my magic to anyone who didn’t know about it.”