getting in the way—he needed a new kind of army. Mr. Kalagan says that Dante Vernon is the true villain. That Dante wears a mask of kindness that hides jealousy and anger and selfishness!”
“My dad is nothing like that!” Leila yelled.
Dean blinked. “I… I don’t know what to believe. Mr. Kalagan says we know nothing about your father. Based on what he told me was in Vernon’s letter, I might have to agree.”
The Misfits were quiet for a moment. Not even Ridley could argue with that part.
Dean’s voice grew even quieter. “What he wants is to get Vernon’s followers, the members of his Magic Circle, to see the truth. And that includes you kids. You might think he hates you, but you’ve got it wrong. He only wants to help you get out from Vernon’s lies.”
The tone of Dean’s voice had changed. The sound of it prickled Ridley’s skin. It was like he was becoming someone whose eyes might glaze over as he came at her, fists raised, chanting, What have I done? What have I done? What have I done?
Theo must have noticed it as well. “How do you know so much about what Kalagan believes? About what he wants and all that?” Dean shook his head, looking confused. “I mean, if you are a victim, like us, why do you sound like you are on his side?”
“He… he told me all that stuff. It sounded like it was true!” Dean stammered. He glanced desperately at Ridley. “Now will you let me out? I don’t feel so good. I promise: I’m on your side now. Mr. Vernon’s side. The right side.”
Something was telling Ridley to leave Dean where he was, to have Carter and Leila go up to the resort and bring the Vernons down here. She didn’t trust him. But she didn’t know which part of his story to not trust the most.
But before she could respond, there was a crunching sound at the mouth of the cave, closer to where the gravel path ended and their makeshift amphitheater began. Ridley glanced over to find the silhouettes of three people. On the left stood a tall, broad man with a big head and even bigger arms. His khaki pants were pulled high, held up by thin leather suspenders. Ridley remembered seeing him around town, maybe hanging out in one of the parks with his family. On the right was a shorter woman whose broad shoulders made her look like a brick wall. She wore denim overalls and a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, her arms bulging with muscles. Another anonymous face from the mix of people living down in the village.
By their fixed expressions, Ridley knew the man and woman were members of Kalagan’s mesmerized mafia. The biggest clue that this was the case, however, was the figure who stood between them. Although his face was still hidden in shadow, she knew exactly who he was.
The black top hat and the high-collared cloak gave him away.
NINETEEN
“Kalagan!” Leila shrieked.
“Stay away,” Olly yelled. “We know karate!”
“We do?” Izzy asked a little too loudly. Her brother shot her a desperate look and she added, “Oh! Yes, we do… know… that.…” Then she put up her hands as if ready to give anyone who came close enough a really good chop.
Carter widened his stance and made another two decks of cards appear in his palms, ready to bombard one of the attackers with their sharp edges and slippery surfaces.
Theo readied his bow as if it were a sword. Or a wand.
Leila clapped her hands over her head and when she brought them apart, she was holding a length of white rope.
And Ridley squared herself to the trespassers, her own hands hovering over a number of buttons and switches on the arms of her chair.
The Magic Misfits were ready to fight!
The man in the top hat stepped away from the goons who were flanking him and held his hands out, directing them to keep back. There was something dismissive about the smooth way he moved that made Ridley’s esophagus burn with rage. His voice echoed forth, low and gritty and somehow suddenly familiar. “Take it easy.”
Where had Ridley heard it before? She remembered the night of the talent show and the explosion, when Kalagan had appeared, mocking and mimicking all of them in the parking lot behind the darkened church, using a voice that sounded like Mr. Vernon’s, but shifted and changed at his whim.
“Say, Ridley, why don’t you let