“Ah, Mr. Havenbrook, Mrs. Havenbrook, welcome. Come on in.” the grey-haired yet still vibrant teacher said, ushering them into the classroom.

“Dan.” Mr. Havenbrook said, shaking her hand. “What exactly is this about? I think it’s highly unusual for a teacher to call the parents directly, not involve the kid.”

“When I got your phonecall at work I nearly had a heart attack.” Rebecca said. Mrs. Talbot nodded.

“Yes, I’m sorry about that. But this is a matter of quite some import.” she said, and Dan put a hand against his head.

“Scott?” Mrs. Talbot nodded, and they both sighed and sat down into the chairs before her desk.

“What’s wrong now?” Rebecca asked.

“Nothing, not as such. But something has recently come to my attention that I think you should be made aware of.” Mrs. Talbot said.

“What, is he in trouble?” Dan asked. Mrs. Talbot shook her head.

“Before I begin, I have to ask you: do you look over your children’s report cards?”

“Not especially hard, Scott’s grades have always been alright, we’ve had to focus on Clay to get him to study.” Rebecca admitted. Mrs. Talbot nodded.

“Hmm, that’s what I thought. I teach physics, so I can tell you he’s middling, usually average in my class. How is he in other subjects?”

“Um, about the same, some A’s, couple D’s, usually B’s or C’s. At least, last I can remember. ” Dan said, trying to recall report cards.

“I see. Tell me, does he do his homework at home? How often do you see him study?” she asked.

“Come to think of it, I haven’t seen him do any homework at home since elementary school.” Rebecca said, frowning. “Well, he could be, though. He’s usually holed up in his room for hours, and it’s practically impossible to get him to open up. I-I hate to say it, but he’s always been difficult like that. He’s never really seemed to fit in, and he’s very secretive. I know he does a lot more than what he lets on.”

“Hmm, that could be another part of the puzzle. Where did-ah, here.” She handed them a record sheet out of a folder. They looked over his progress throughout the year, mostly B’s and C’s with a few A’s peppered in.

“Yeah? Looks good to me.” Dan said, raising an eyebrow. “Why’d you call us if he was doing okay?”

“Because I was working on a quantum mechanics problem two weeks ago before school began. I had a variant of the Copenhagen Interpretation on the board, seeing if I could idly find something that causes the collapse of the quantum wavefunction. Scott came in for first period, and he still looked half-asleep. Apparently he thought it was a pop quiz to solve, because he answered it.” Mrs. Talbot produced a paper covered in Scott’s handwriting. The letters, symbols, and numbers went way over their heads, but it did look like everything was filled in and accounted for.

“Err, yeah?” Dan said, confused.

“The problem, Mr. Havenbrook, is that this was merely a theory. It has not been solved. Theoretical physics simply does not have enough data to cover what has to go into doing this. I’ve checked the math myself, and I can barely understand it. I had to run it by the professors at Miskatonic to check, and to all of our surprise, it is indeed correct. Your son has redefined the way we look at the universe, at least in a small part. That is something an average student cannot do."

“So my question is, if he really is the most brilliant physicist to ever live, why is he almost smack dab in the middle grade-wise of my class? I have discussed this with the principal, and she agrees that this is suspicious.”

“You’re not saying Scott cheated, are you?” Rebecca asked.

“Not at all. I’m saying he’s too average for what he can do. When we pulled up his grades on his permanent record, they were at the same level, average-wise. However, shortly before entering high school, his science and math grades shot through the roof-before settling exactly into average until now. I believe that, for whatever reason, Scott is hiding his true abilities from us. Do you have any idea as to why?” she asked. His parents looked at each other.

“I got no clue, Mrs. Talbot.” Dan said. “But we’ll find out. He’ll talk, I’m sure.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You’ll never get me to talk!” Scott shouted through the door, pacing in the room. Amber was sitting quietly at the table, her hands pressed together to keep from shaking.

“T-Try to relax, Scott. W-We shouldn’t say anything without a lawyer, anyway.” She tugged her ponytail nervously. Scott sighed, considered, then shook his head as he decided to be honest.

“Yeah, not getting the vibe we’d be getting a lawyer in any case. We weren’t arrested Amber, we were abducted. Detained indefinitely. They want to, they could shoot us and put us in a ditch, no one’d be any wiser.” She started shaking more, tears running down her face and hiccupping. He grinned confidently. “At least, they could try. Even without the Necronomicon and my pets, we’re still far from helpless. Besides, if they wanted to do that they’d have done it by now. My guess is they want us for something. Three guesses, no takebacks.” He held up a hand, the faintest of green glows laminating outward. Seeing him so confidant, Amber felt a little bit better. “My only question is how did they find out.”

“Shh-someone’s coming.” Amber said, picking up footsteps in the hall. They had been brought to the Kruger mall, officially destroyed thanks to an “earthquake,” but after being hustled into the basement to find this group had some renovations done.

“Perfect.” Scott grinned. “Let’s start the party.” He cracked his knuckles and she rolled her eyes.

“C’mon Scott, don’t make things any worse than they already are.”

“She’s right.” The door opened, and Amber gasped in surprise as Detective Cross entered the room, followed by the man who’d taken them.

“Detective Cross! What’re you doing here?” Amber said.

“Please tell me you made it so we can go.” Scott said, hoping against hope. Crenshaw spoke up.

“Afraid not, actually. We’re sorry, but you’re too valuable an asset to just let go like that. We’re with a government agency designed to protect the United States from any and all…unusual threats. This is my new partner, Agent Cross."

“Under extreme protest and duress.” she growled, glaring daggers at Crenshaw. She glanced at Scott. “Hey, kid. Sorry we had to bring you in like this.” Scott sighed and put his face on the table.

“Eh, it’s alright.” he said, slightly muffled. “So, what exactly do you want from me?” Agent Crenshaw smiled.

“That is the big question, isn’t it? Our investigations have discovered that you are in possession of magical knowledge, likely from this book. Correct?” He tossed Scott’s bag on the table, Arnold, Tarantulas, and the Necronomicon in plastic bags spilling out. “Figure it’s no trouble to return them. We’ve had a look at the book, by the way, and while it most resembles ancient Sumerian, none of our experts or translation programs can accurately identify it.” Scott grinned as he released his servants and gathered everything up. “We’ve also found out you’ve been a principal player in at least two separate incidents last fall. From what we’ve gathered, and Cross’s testimony corroborates this, is that you’ve worked to put down the threats to yourself and others. Correct?” he asked, eyebrow raised. Scott nodded slowly, unnerved by the look in Crenshaw’s eyes. They were too empty, hollow, despite his confidant face. The agent snapped the folder shut. “Excellent. Normally, our response to such an individual with your knowledge and prowess would be to neutralize you however we could. However, your previous actions paint a very different picture of yourself than the usual schmuck who gets their hands on forbidden magical knowledge. So we decided to take a different track: how would you like an after-school job?”

The necromancer squinted at him, then a sly grin spread across his face as he grasped the situation.

“That depends. How much trouble are you in?” he said, testing the waters.

“Excuse me?” Crenshaw said.

“Yeah, the more I think about it, the more it makes sense. All that happened in mid-November, and it’s almost June now. I can’t imagine you guys would have to go through too much red tape, and we’re still alive so you obviously want my help. These’re just scare tactics, trying to pressure me into giving in without a fight. I see your game. And you wouldn’t be doing this at all, I bet, if you weren’t fairly desperate.” Cross snorted and laughed out loud.

“Tell ‘em, kid. I told you, he’s smarter than he looks.” Cross said smugly to a scowling Crenshaw. “You’re on the money. A lot of what they do is bluff. Sure, they’ve got some scary authority, but because of that there’s even stricter oversight from Washington. Probably more than most departments have, right Agent Crenshaw?”

“I liked it better when you were intimidated.” he groused, motioning for a projector to be wheeled in and pulling down a screen.

“So all this was just for show?” Amber snapped, her knuckles white on the table. How could they play with them like that!?

“Make no mistake, we have full authorization to eliminate all of you without hesitation. But the Unknown Agency is designed to protect American citizens, not go around killing them. Actions speak louder than words, and we prefer to speak quietly. We had to ensure your cooperation, by any means necessary.”

“He’s right.” Cross spoke up. “I don’t like it, I really don’t like it, but I decided to stick with them because of what’s going down. I told him trying to pressure you wouldn’t work, but apparently I’m not senior enough to make that call.” She said, staring at Crenshaw. “And…” She sighed despondently. “We…need your help.”

“Huh? I’m sorry? You said something to me, detective? I’m afraid I couldn’t hear, you’ll have to repeat it louder.” a bright-eyed Scott said, cupping his ear. Amber smacked his shoulder. “Hey.”

“Don’t be an ass. Why? What’s going on?” she asked. Cross nodded to Crenshaw, and he fired up the slideshow. The picture was of a hand holding a small red pill.

“As you may be aware, illicit substances are a problem in this country, but especially disturbing when teenagers are the primary consumers. This is a new party drug called ‘Taboo.’ Have either of you heard anything about it before?” The teens shook their heads. “Hmm. I suppose we should be thankful, then. It’s the latest craze sweeping not only the nation, but worldwide.” he explained.

“And this has to do with us…?” Scott said, confused. Necromancers had no use for the drug trade.

“Obviously, it does more than get you high if we want you to work with us. Please observe.” Crenshaw clicked a video and Scott and Amber watched a rave in progress.

“Yo, check this out.” a kid wearing a red muscle shirt said, downing one of the pills. “Oh yeah, oh yeah! Fw’thylmnb aex nominatnnis! Fw’thylmnb aex nominatnnis! Fw’thylmnb aex nominatnnis! Fw’thylmnb aex nominatnnis! Fw’thylmnb aex nominatnnis!” he chanted. They watched him dancing, the colored lights flashing in time with the beat. “Wooooo!” He started jerking and jumping, levitating off the ground. Amber gasped, and Scott narrowed his eyes.

“Holy…” the cameraman trialed off, watching him bust a move in midair to the waves and cheers of the crowd.

“C’mon up!” The dancing kid lifted a hand, raising the cameraman too.

“No way!” The camera went wild, zooming from the floor to the partiers to everything in between. “That-This’s incredible! I gotta get somma that!”

“Here.” The guy floated a pill into his friend’s hand, and he instantly downed it. After a moment, there was more strange chanting, and the screen began to shake, static building up before cutting out.

“The person who recorded this, one Michael Brown, seems to have had manifested some kind of electrical manipulation spell.” Crenshaw explained. “While we haven’t determined what exactly happened in the interval, we have recovered another cell phone recording at the end of the incident.” He opened another file.

“Oh my God!” Amber cried. The cell phone was lying on the ground, recording by accident. There was a hand in the frame, lying on the floor in a pool of blood. There was screaming in the background, and a flickering of fire off to one side. A pair of legs in pink sneakers ran past, but suddenly froze and started backing away slowly as another pair of shoes entered the shot.

“P-P=Please-I’ll, do anything, j-just please don’t…” a girl’s voice said.

“’Please don’t?’ Please don’t what! You know you have nowhere left to hide! To have to face your judgement! I saw you with him, don’t-”

“NO! It wasn’t like that!” the girl cried, then there was a scream.

“YOU LYING BITCH! I KNOW!” There was a dull thwack, and the legs collapsed, a scarlet rain staining the screen. Amber shuddered. The other shoes turned, shredding as their owner burst out of them, a flash of scales the last thing seen before the file cut out.

“What you have just witnessed is a rave in New Jersey last week. We were unable to contact anyone would admit to being there. Five people lost their lives. We managed to get there before the media did, and a sanitized version of events was released three hours later.”

“So…is, is this what that drug does to people? Give them superpowers?” Amber said, looking at the pill photo again. “What’s in it?”

“A very good question. Much of the composition is amphetamines with a faint trace of extacy, which was easy enough to analyze. But there’s something else in them, a substance that our scientists can’t identify. Whatever that X factor is, it’s responsible for this.” Crenshaw said, turning to Scott. “I understand that you specialize in necromancy. But you are literally the only magician we have been able to contact at this point. Do you think you might know something about any of this?”

Scott’s face had been sour throughout the video, jaw set tight as a clam. But now he broke out into the widest grin Amber had ever seen him make.

“Oh? What’s that? The secret organization that kidnapped us and held me against my will needs MY help? Did I hear you right?” he said obnoxiously. Crenshaw grimaced, and Cross was torn between grinning herself and burying her head in her palm. “My my my, what a conundrum we have here. Hmm, I wonder what my answer should be?” He put a finger to his chin, staring up at the ceiling.

“Are you done?” Crenshaw growled.

“Yup. Hell no. You want me to help you with this case? Sorry, got nothing to do with me. I’m a very busy man you know, gotta ‘mance those necros. And I don’t appreciate trying to be coerced into doing things.” He leaned back in his chair as Crenshaw’s expression turned dark. Honestly, it sounded like a whole lot of trouble, and it truly didn’t have anything to do with him. He really didn’t care about other magic users beyond an academical interest. But this was an opportunity he couldn’t resist; he grinned as he saw the perfect moment to spring his trap.

“Buuuuut if you needed my professional consultation, I suppose a government contract wouldn’t be bad for my first professional job. I’ll do it on one condition: four-no, f-five thousand dollars. P-Per case!” he added quickly. Silence followed his proclamation. Cross gave in and sunk her forehead into her hand.

“Should’ve known.” she muttered.

“That amount, and we get your services?” Crenshaw asked, eyebrow raised. Scott nodded, hoping beyond hope. “Deal.”

“No, wait-aargh.” Scott suddenly found himself in a headlock and dragged into a corner, confronted by a sharp-eyed Amber. “Listen you dolt, if you’re negotiating a price, you start unrealistically high and go down from there. It’s basic business sense! Dad taught me that! You could’ve gotten a lot more, maybe even millions!” she hissed. The necromancer’s eyes went wide.

“Wha-? Really?”

“Yes! This’s a government agency, I bet they have an expense account for things like this!” Amber snapped.

“Millions…” Scott trailed off in wonder. “And I thought five thousand would’ve been pushing it. Man, I wouldn’t even know what to do with millions. Please, wise master, teach me your ways!” he said earnestly, eyes sparkling at the possibilities. Amber stared at him, remembering his house and family, and how his dates were to the park, or the mall, or something else relatively inexpensive. She groaned internally as she recalled she usually paid whenever they went out someplace fancier. Her family had four cars and a motorcycle; his had one and-considering the state of Clay’s vehicle-a half. ‘Guess I can’t exactly blame him. Genius brain or not, it doesn’t help if you’ve been trained to think lowball.’ She huffed and squeezed him gently.

“What am I gonna do with you. I’ll help you out later.” she smiled.

“Indeed. For now, can we get back to the task at hand?” Agent Crenshaw chided, and they went back to the table.

‘So this’s what it’s like from the outside.’ Cross snickered internally.

“Now then, five thousand per case it is. Unfortunately, you might reach that million mark sooner than you think.” he said solemnly, downloading files onto a flash drive. “These are the files of what we have so far on each incident. We have our people working on them right now, Cross included. Take them home and review them, see if you can spot something we can’t. I trust you can be discrete.” He tossed him the device.

“Secrecy is a very important part of what I do.” Scott said, catching it. Crenshaw nodded. “Now then, if you want me to analyze the drug, I’ll need a sample.”

“We have a lab prepped here. But tell me, would it be possible for you to teach us your magic? It would be the best possible course to take in examining other magic.” Crenshaw asked. Scott rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, not happening. Unless you got a few weeks at the shortest, more likely months, verging on years.” he snorted.

“What do you mean?” Crenshaw asked.

“I mean it took me over seven months before I could even get a corpse to twitch. A couple months back I tried to teach her-” he pointed a thumb at Amber “-a simple spell to banish ghosts, just in case. Oh my god was that an exercise in futility. Since she couldn’t read the formula, I had to read it step-by-step, and it didn’t go well. She barely managed a flicker of power to banish a flea’s ghost, let alone a human’s. Magic requires more than just saying some funny words and waving your hands around. You need a proper understanding of fifth-dimensional metaphysics for a start, and a mind and will strong enough to not break when reality shifts before your eyes at your own hand. It’s like…what’d you say, Amber?”

“Like doing trigonometry after you’d just learned multiplication.” she said sourly. That had not been a pleasant afternoon. She had been bound and determined, and though she could kinda-sorta recognize some patterns she couldn’t decipher what they meant, and Scott said that was the key. “Seriously. I’m good at math, but that stuff’s ridiculous.”

“Took more time than I care to admit to reanimate even a mouse.” Scott nodded sagely. “I mean, I can give you a primer on magic, but actually using it’s another matter. And I don’t believe you have the time required to figure this out.”

“Hrmm. Unfortunately true. Very well, we’ll have to make do with what we have. Agent Cross will debrief you on the rest, please excuse me.” Crenshaw left, frowning. His body language indicated he wasn’t lying. It didn’t go as well as he’d hoped, but the boy was on their side, at least.

Cross turned to the teenagers, smirking.

“You know, it was almost worth getting conscripted, just to see that as-moron have to deal with you.” she said.

“I’m not that bad, am I?” Scott said, eyes bright and smiling innocently.

“Give it a rest, Scott.” Amber said, smacking his shoulder.

“You see how I’m treated? No respect, no respect at all.” He sighed dramatically.

“Anyway,” Cross cut in, glaring. She’d had more than enough fooling around. “Right now, you have security clearance level 2.” She handed both of them badges. “Don’t lose ‘em, I’ll get pis-mad.”

“We’re teenagers, we can handle swearing. He was an asshole.” Amber said flatly.

“A-Anyway,” Cross coughed, “I had to spill most of the beans about what happened last fall. Don’t look at me like that, they already knew about you two. It was either explaining how helpful you were, or being captured without prejudice and interrogated. Much rougher than what you got today.”

“Hmm.” Scott leaned in away from the camera in the corner and said quietly “Is the room bugged?”

“Doubt it. This’s just the upper level.” Cross said.

“What do you think of these guys? They on the level? How much do they know?” Cross rolled her eyes.

“Not much, I can tell you that. As of now, they know the supernatural exists, and deal with it best they can. I’ve seen some of the creatures they killed, they’re up there with that spider-rat thing you’ve got.” she said, shuddering. “But that’s mostly what they do, monster extermination. They’ve stopped a couple of magicians-and I can’t believe I just said that-before they could cause too much trouble before, but for the most part magic’s a mystery to them. I’d prefer it if nothing supernatural existed, but apparently that’s not the world we live in.” she said bitterly.

“There there.” he said, reaching up to pat her shoulder and receiving a glare. “The universe is a vast and strange place.”

“What I want to know what happens next. Are we free to go? What happened with Eduardo?” Amber asked. That had been bothering her, but being taken prisoner had eclipsed that issue.

“He’s currently in a special holding room downstairs, built to hold people with issues like these. He’s been detained while these guys detoxify him and analyze it. But they’re just going to hold him in observation for a while and release him with a bribe to keep his mouth shut. We’re after the source, not the users so much. And I’ll take you kids home after we’re done here. They figure the old Kruger mall’s good cover for the operation.”

“Last time I was here, there were five walls but only four corners.” Amber said.

“Huh. That’s…huh.” Cross said, rubbing her forehead. “I don’t get paid enough to care. But we’re not going anywhere yet. Kid, they want you down the hall to explain magic to ‘em. And you’ve got a medical exam to take.” she said, pointing at Amber.

“M-Me?”

“Yeah. You died and came back to life. Twice.”

“Once as a ghoul.” Scott interjected.

“Yeah, so they won’t be satisfied until they’ve done a full physical, make sure you’re really okay, any effects and make sure, I don’t know, you develop a craving for human flesh.”

“That’s crazy! I’ve been fine since the last time, seven months of nothing but normal food. That’s ridiculous!”

“That’s a safety issue that should be easy to quell. Now c’mon, let’s make it quick. And kid?” She turned to Scott. “You’re now officially under employment. They’ll work with you around school, but you’ve gotta decide what to tell your family.” Scott’s blood ran cold.

“C-Crap! I can’t tell ‘em about any of this stuff!” he muttered, pulse picking up. “They’ll kill me if they find out about my sneaking out and graverobbing!”

“Not my job, kid.” Cross shrugged, enjoying watching him sweat. “But this’s a serious matter. We’ll collect you tomorrow after school, so be ready to roll."