The Obsidians

It was the first time any of the Obsidian students besides Malcolm or Chris had dared to speak.

Mistress Obsidian looked at her and smiled. “Yes.”

Madeleine looked delighted. She clapped her hands. “How exciting. Who is it? A student? A teach—”

But before Madeleine could finish her sentence, Mistress Obsidian waved her hand in the air to mime a zipping motion. In the blink of an eye, Madeleine’s lips disappeared, leaving nothing but a fleshy covering where her mouth used to be.

Chris flinched in his seat. The sight of Madeleine with no mouth disturbed him. But what disturbed him even more was why Mistress Obsidian had decided to show off her powers in that way. It was a warning, Chris realized. A warning for him. This, or something similar, was the fate that awaited him if he screwed up the mission.

Madeleine’s eyes were wide with alarm as she pressed her hands to her mouth. Her voice was now nothing more than a muffled noise.

“Does anyone else feel like interrupting?” Mistress Obsidian asked, her glare roving across them all.

Everyone remained silent.

The headmistress carried on as if nothing had happened. “The fortifications that obscure my ability to see only cover the school grounds. Which means the second Oliver Blue steps outside the boundary of the school, I will be able to track him again.”

At the sound of his brother’s name, Chris sat up a little taller in his seat. His desire to kill that pipsqueak once and for all grew even stronger inside of him, building to a murderous fever pitch that pounded in his ears like a tribal drum.

“And the second he does,” Mistress Obsidian continued, her voice sounding sly, “I’ll be sending you after him.”

She slammed her fist onto the tabletop and everyone jumped. But her gaze was fixed only on Christopher’s.

He gulped as the intensity in her eyes burned into him.

Her voice became louder, sterner, more enthused. “This time, we won’t fail. We cannot fail.” Her eyes sparkled with malice. She drew herself up to her feet and waved a fist in the air. “This time, we will kill Oliver Blue.”

CHAPTER THREE

Leaving the School for Seers was always difficult for Oliver. Not just because it involved leaving behind the friends and teachers he adored, but because the school was situated in 1944, right in the middle of the war, and that meant leaving it was always perilous.

Beside him, Oliver heard Hazel whistle. He looked over at her to see her gazing around at the row of noisy factories all constructing things for the war effort. Their tall chimneys spewed smoke into the air. Steel fire escapes zigzagged across their exteriors. Large posters adorned each building, urging men to join the war against the backdrop of American flags. Distinctive black cars that looked like they were straight out of a gangster movie chugged by.

“I forgot what the world outside the School for Seers looked like,” Hazel said. “It’s been so long.”

Like the rest of the students, Hazel had abandoned her old life in order to train to become a seer, to partake in important time travel missions to keep history in order. This was her very first mission. Oliver could understand why she looked so overwhelmed.

Walter drew up to their sides, standing on the sidewalk as the traffic buzzed by.

“Where to now?” he asked.

David also came up beside them. He was holding the scepter; Oliver thought it made the most sense for the fighter amongst them to keep hold of the weapon. He could see the sand shifting within the hollow tube inside of it. It sent a jolt of panic into him to know that time was passing them by.

“We must find the portal,” Oliver said with urgency.

Quickly, he pulled his compass from his pocket. The special device had been given to him by his guide, Armando. It had once belonged to his parents. Along with a notebook of his father’s old lecture notes, it was the only link to them he owned. It had helped him on a previous mission and Oliver was certain it would help him now. Though he’d never met them, Oliver felt like his parents were always guiding him.

The symbols, when interpreted correctly, showed him the future. He could use it to guide them to the portal.

He looked down at the compass. The main dial, the thickest of them all, pointed directly at the symbol of a door.

That was simple enough to understand, Oliver thought. Their quest was to find the portal and that was certainly represented by the door symbol.

But as he peered at the other gold dials, each one pointing at a symbol that looked like Egyptian hieroglyphics, it became a little harder to work out the meaning the compass was attempting to show him. One image looked like a cog. Another appeared to be an owl. A third symbol was easily identifiable as a dog. But what did they all mean?

“A cog. An owl. A dog…” Oliver mused allowed. Then suddenly it hit him. As it dawned on him where he was being directed, he gasped. “The factory!”

If he’d read the compass correctly, it was directing him to a place all too familiar to Oliver. Armando Illstrom’s factory, Illstrom’s Inventions.

The factory wasn’t too far from here. The cog could represent the machine he worked on, the owl because of the flying mechanical birds that nestled in its rafters, and the dog could represent Horatio, the old inventor’s trusty bloodhound.

Oliver wasn’t sure if he was correct in his interpretation but it certainly seemed plausible that the portal may be somewhere within the factory’s grounds. He couldn’t help but feel excited at the prospect of seeing his old hero again. It felt like a very long time to Oliver since he’d last set foot inside the magic factory.

“This way,” he told the others, pointing in the direction he knew the factory to be.

They began to walk, passing row after row of war-era munitions factories. Workers in brown and beige jumpsuits filed in and out of the heavy steel doors, including many women. Every time a door opened, the sounds of saws and drills and heavy machinery would increase.

“I hope Esther isn’t in too much pain,” Hazel said as they went.

Just the mention of her name sent bolts of anguish into Oliver’s stomach.

“She’s being taken care of,” Walter replied. “The hospital at the School for Seers is the best in the universe.”

David drew up beside Oliver. He was at least a head taller than Oliver and he’d pulled his chin-length black hair back into a small ponytail. With his all-black attire and the scepter slung across his back, he looked a bit like a ninja.

“Why are you on this mission with me?” Oliver asked him.

He realized as soon as he’d said it that his tone had been quite blunt. He hadn’t meant it that way, he was just confused. Bringing a stranger on the mission added a whole other level of uncertainty.

David looked across at him, his expression neutral. He held himself with a serious air. “Didn’t Professor Amethyst explain it to you?”

Oliver shook his head. “Not really. He just said you were a good fighter.”

David nodded slowly. His face remained expressionless, in a way that reminded Oliver of a trained soldier. “I’ve been sent along as your personal bodyguard.”

Oliver gulped. Bodyguard? He knew going on time travel missions was perilous but having a bodyguard seemed a little over the top.

“Why do I need a bodyguard?” he asked.

David’s lips pursed. “I haven’t been told all the details. But Professor Amethyst was quite clear about my brief for this mission. Keep you alive. Do everything and anything necessary.”

His explanation brought little comfort to Oliver. Professor Amethyst had never deemed him in need of extra protection before, so why now? What was so dangerous about this mission in particular?

Still, who was he to question the way the headmaster operated? Professor Amethyst was the most powerful seer of them all, centuries old, and had seen many timelines play out. He knew what was for the best. If the strangely militaristic David Mendoza was part of that, then Oliver just had to accept it.

As they strode through the streets, Oliver’s attention was drawn over and over to the hollow tube inside the scepter. The sand had already noticeably shifted, indicating that time was already sifting away. The thought of Esther’s time running out sent a jolt of pain stabbing his heart.

There was no time to waste. He had to reach the portal.