a man whose glasses had black frames as thick as licorice whips approached and introduced themselves as the administrators of the inventors’ fair. Ridley tried her best to explain the situation, Ms. Parkly standing quietly behind her.
“I’m so very sorry this happened, Miss Larsen,” said the woman. “We’ll investigate the incident alongside the authorities. Is your project salvageable?”
Ridley shook her head.
“It looked very impressive,” the woman offered gently.
“Perhaps we could extend an invitation for you to compete next year?” the man added.
Ridley nodded, simply too tired to speak.
Mrs. Maloney had accomplished what she’d set out to do. Or, Ridley thought, she accomplished what someone had wanted her to do. Her final words echoed in Ridley’s memory: I don’t know what came over me. Please. I didn’t mean to…
If the librarian hadn’t meant to, then who had?
Ridley barely had to consider.
Kalagan was a mesmerist. He must have hypnotized the librarian.
The man was a maniac, and Ridley now knew that the Magic Misfits should never have disbanded to appease him, as Mr. Vernon had instructed. They should have stayed out in the open, just like Ridley wanted to, ready for a fight. But had anyone listened to her?
No.
Hiding in the shadows hadn’t made a bit of difference.
Back on the train, Ridley tried to force her mind elsewhere, to think about the adjustments she and her father would make to improve her project for next year. When he got back from his sales trip, of course.
Her mother wouldn’t like that, Ridley thought, the two of them spending even more hours tinkering together. Mrs. Larsen refused to understand her daughter’s love of invention. It didn’t help that she was usually busy and distracted with her own work, always in the middle of writing another novel filled with romance and intrigue. Sometimes Ridley wondered if her mother wrote them as an escape from a life that she saw as ordinary.
Or worse, annoying.
Pushing thoughts of her mother from her mind, Ridley reached into the panel in her chair and removed her notebook and pen. She needed to write down the details of her encounter with the librarian to share with her friends, to let them know that they all might be in danger.
Again.
Glancing up, she saw Ms. Parkly turn quickly around and slouch in her seat, as if trying to become invisible.
Hmmm… Mrs. Maloney had claimed she hadn’t known what she was doing, and she did appear to have been in a trance. Where had Ms. Parkly been prior to the librarian’s shovel attack? She’d been getting Ridley a glass of water. Or so she’d said. Was it possible that her teacher had the same skill as Kalagan? Mesmerism?
“Ms. Parkly?” Ridley said, making her voice as sweet as she could.
“Oh! Yes?” her teacher answered without turning.
“Do you know anything about mesmerism?” Ridley zeroed in on her teacher’s scalp, watching for a twitch.
But Ms. Parkly didn’t move. “I don’t think so,” she answered. “Is that something you’d like to learn about this week? What made you think of it?”
Ridley tried to keep her voice sounding chirpy and innocent when she answered. “Oh, nothing. Never mind. Now, how about I show you another magic trick?”
THREE
The train reached Mineral Wells by early afternoon.
Ridley’s mom was waiting for them, parked at the curb in front of the station. After such an early morning, it felt to Ridley like the day was nearly done, even though the sun still hung high in the sky. When she was situated in the back seat, her mom peered at her through the rearview mirror and said, “You made it back in one piece!”
“My project didn’t.”
Mrs. Larsen blinked. “Well, that’s obvious, Ridley.… I mean, your teacher told me… and of course it’s awful… but maybe now you’ll spend a little more time on what you’re supposed to be doing together and—my gosh, look at the time! I’ve got to get to town. We have absolutely nothing for dinner at home.… I can’t write on an empty stomach.”
Ridley rolled her eyes as they sped away from the station. It was just like her mother to dismiss what had happened and get back to doing what she did best: Worry about Ridley’s schoolwork. Worry about dinner. Worry about deadlines.
To Ridley’s surprise, Ms. Parkly piped up. “Ridley did a swell job of protecting herself, Mrs. Larsen.” Ridley felt a surge of pride, but then quickly remembered that Ms. Parkly was now on her suspicious list. When her teacher turned to give her a small smile, Ridley scowled.
After dropping