J. Mitchell - Midnight City

Zoey looked up at Mira again. Her eyes were no longer calculating or calm. Now there was uneasiness in them, fear even. “I just remember waking up when the ship crashed, and Holt finding me,” she said. “I know I should remember more, but I don’t. I don’t even know if I want to remember. What if remembering is scarier than not remembering?”

What if, indeed. Mira couldn’t say she wouldn’t feel the same way.

“Do you remember your parents? Do you remember who took care of you before we found you?”

Zoey shook her head.

How was that possible? Mira wondered. God, what had the Assembly done to her?

“Look, Mira,” Zoey said, a note of brightness returning to her voice. “Now we can see the Max again!”

Mira looked ahead of them, where the woods thinned out into a small clearing. Smoke rose from a small fire there, filtering into the treetops. She could see Holt’s cot lying nearby, his pack on the ground under a tree.

Mira dropped to the ground, pulling Zoey with her, silencing the little girl before she could speak.

They’d found Holt’s camp. She just hoped he hadn’t spotted them in the process.

Mira stayed on the ground, listening for any sound of alarm or pursuit. But there was none. If he had seen them, there was no indication.

Mira thought through her options.

If he wasn’t expecting her, he was an idiot, would likely be easier to outwit, and deserved what he got.

But she was pretty sure it wasn’t going to be that simple. Holt, as infuriating as he was, wasn’t stupid. He was… resourceful. And clever. Mira lifted up just enough to see over the brush in front of her and look into the camp again.

The campfire burning in the open was her first clue. Holt always lit fires much more inconspicuously, so as to avoid detection. But here was one burning in the open. And his pack, conveniently away from everything else. Logically, it would be the first place she would look.

Everything in front of her was out of place. Which meant it was a trap, and Holt was lying in wait somewhere. Well, he and his smelly, furry friend had a surprise coming to them. A big one.

Mira dug through her pack, searching the artifacts inside. She pulled out two nickels, each wrapped in plastic sleeves so they couldn’t touch. Strange Lands coins were highly charged artifacts, and had a bad habit of exploding if they touched one another, or anything at all if they were thrown. It came in handy in lots of situations, and she had gotten good at using them as weapons in a pinch.

Next came a small broken piece of mirror, a sealed glass vial that seemed to contain nothing at all, and a roll of duct tape. She placed the first four objects one on top of the other, forming a chain of sorts.

First, she unwrapped one of the nickels and set it so the “head” of the coin faced outward. Then the glass vial (of Strange Lands air, a very useful ingredient) to serve as the combination’s Essence. Next, the mirror shard, which would be the Focuser and reflect the air Essence. At the other end, she placed the second coin, also heads facing out (which would make the polarity of the artifact combination “positive”).

When she was done, she wrapped the items together with the duct tape. As the Interfusion was made, the hair on Mira’s arms stood up. A slight charge sparked the air, and there was a crackling, a hum. Like something electrical was charging up. Mira opened the glass vial peeking out from under the tape. A hiss of air, a shimmer, the hum intensified for a second… and then everything went silent.

At the same time, Mira’s hand… vanished.

She dropped the artifact. Her hand reappeared, and a small rock that the artifact landed on disappeared in its place.

Zoey stared in wonder. “How did you do that?” she whispered. “Can you do it again?”

Mira smiled, put a finger to her lips. The artifact combination created pure invisibility by reflecting air and light away from whatever it touched. Impressive… but not enough. Not yet. She needed to make a second combination, using the first as the new Essence.

From her pack, she pulled out more items: two dimes (also wrapped in plastic) and a large blue green marble.

Mira started with the coin (heads out). Next was the artifact combination she had just made, and then finally the marble and the second dime (again, heads out). She wrapped it all together with duct tape.

As she did, the hum came again, but this time it was louder. The air shimmered and blurred as a cocoon of invisibility enveloped her. Everything on the outside was muted and darker, like looking at the world through sunglasses.

This combination was an often-used one, called a Shroud. It incorporated the first artifact combination, increased its power, and forced the invisibility to flare outward in the form of a sphere (thanks to the marble Focuser). Now, whoever held it was surrounded by a ball of invisibility. At least until the combination’s power ran out, which wouldn’t be long from now.

Mira studied the artifact combination with distaste.

She prided herself on not just the ingenuity of the artifacts she created, but also their aesthetic virtues. Since leaving Midnight City, it seemed she was always making combinations in a frenzy. She didn’t have the luxury to take her time anymore, to use pretty bindings like gold or silver chain, lengths of silk of varying hues, or even colored twine. Now her artifacts were hastily created lumps of duct tape or rubber bands, without form or color or artistry.

It was one more thing she had lost when she fled.

“Stay here,” Mira whispered to Zoey. “I’m going into the camp.”

“I can’t pet the Max?” Zoey asked dejectedly.

“No, sweetheart, not right now. I need you to stay down and out of sight. Okay?”

Zoey pouted, but made no move to follow Mira as she crawled slowly forward.

Mira advanced cautiously. Though the Shroud kept her invisible, it didn’t make her intangible. She would still make noise and disturb the brush, which could give her position away. She had to be patient, take her time.

Mira inched into the camp’s interior, studying the layout as she did.

Holt’s pack lay at the far end, resting against a collection of trees that had grown upward together and intertwined. It was isolated and apart from the rest. Mira frowned at Holt’s obviousness: it was clearly where he meant her to go. It was where the trap would be sprung… whatever it was.

She surveyed the rest of the camp, and her eyes found Holt’s cot. The sleeping bag on top looked full, the blankets pulled up tight around the supposed occupant. Mira almost laughed out loud, wondering if it had taken every piece of extra clothing Holt had to make it look like someone was inside the bag.

What kind of fool did he take her for?

There was no sign of Max either, which meant the dog was probably with his boss, waiting on her to make a grab for Holt’s pack at the other end of the camp.

The question right now, though, was where the cylinder really was. If Holt could have it his way, he’d have it on him, Mira guessed. He wouldn’t want to risk actually losing it by keeping it out for her to grab.

But the cylinder was big and bulky, not to mention heavy. As much as he might like to hang on to it, it would slow him down in a pursuit or fight.

No, Holt would stash it somewhere. But where? What was the least likely place for that cylinder to be?

Mira inspected the camp again, and her eyes once more found the cot. If she had fallen for his ruse and believed he was actually in that sleeping bag, the cot was the last place she would approach.

Mira smiled. The cylinder was there. It had to be.

But how was she going to snag it? The invisibility sphere generated by the Shroud moved wherever she went. If she got too close to the cot, it would absorb it, too. And Holt would definitely notice his cot and sleeping bag vanishing into thin air.