The Revenge of Magic Read online

  This one, like everything, is for Corinne

  - ONE -

  JUST MINUTES BEFORE THE ATTACK in Washington, D.C., Fort’s father was embarrassing him at the Lincoln Memorial.

  “President Forsythe Fitzgerald,” his dad said, pointing at the spot each word would go above the giant seated statue of Abraham Lincoln. “I feel like we’re going to need a larger statue, though. These ceilings are high enough to fit that head of yours, but you’re definitely going to need a bigger chair.”

  Fort rolled his eyes, but a grin popped out anyway. “I’m pretty sure that they don’t let twelve-year-olds run for president,” he said. “I think I have to be an adult, and that’s when you said I was going to be leading a mission to Jupiter. And curing cancer, I think? The version of me in your head really needs to make up his mind.”

  “You’ll do all of that and more!” his father shouted. Other visitors to the Lincoln Memorial began to look at them, making Fort blush. “There’s no time to be lazy, not with all the amazing things you’re going to accomplish! And don’t forget that I still want a flying car, so I’ll need you to invent that too.”

  Fort tried to pull his father to a less crowded area, but his dad wouldn’t move. “I will, if you just talk less loudly,” he murmured as two girls slightly older than Fort stared at them, whispering. Fantastic.

  “Um, I’m pretty sure as an adult, I can talk as loudly as I want,” his father said. “But stop pushing us off topic, Fort. This is your future we’re talking about! You’re going to be a great man someday, and I for one can’t wait to take pictures in front of your statue as children gaze up at it adoringly!” He waved at the two girls. “See? We’ve already got two volunteers!”

  The girls both broke into wide smiles, and Fort felt his face burn with the heat of a volcano. “I’m sorry about this,” he told them. “He thinks it’s funny to embarrass me wherever he can.”

  “It’s not not funny,” one of the girls said.

  “Intelligent youths around here!” his father shouted in response. “Listen to them, Fort. I hear that children are our future.”

  “I’m your future,” Fort hissed at him. “Because once you’re old, I get to decide which nursing home to put you in.”

  “Low blow, young man,” his dad said, then pointed at Lincoln. “Do you think our beloved sixteenth president would have spoken to his father that way? And he’s your personal hero!” He leaned closer to the girls conspiratorially. “When my boy here was in diapers, he’d stroll around in a top hat and make us all call him Fort Lincoln.”

  One of the girls snorted, while the other turned away to hide her laughter. Fort wondered how easy it’d be to spontaneously combust. “He’s making that up,” he told the girls, his face getting even hotter. “And we really need to be going.”

  “Oh, we have plenty of time,” his father said, taking out his phone. “Besides, I think I have pictures of that in here. Girls, do you want to see?”

  “I’m just getting really tired,” Fort said, yanking his father by his arm toward the steps of the memorial. “Maybe we should head back to the hotel?”

  “Nonsense!” Fort’s father shouted. “Why, we haven’t seen Einstein yet. Did you know there’s a statue of Einstein right off the National Mall, Fort? And the Gettysburg Address!” He pointed at the speech carved into the wall of the Lincoln Memorial to the left of the president. “Look at this. Two hundred and seventy-two words. Short and to the point!”

  A slight tremble shook the memorial, like a heavy truck was driving by. Fort looked around nervously, but the tremor only lasted a few seconds, and no one else really seemed bothered by it.

  “I think President Lincoln is waking up,” his father whispered to him with a grin. “Did you know a second man gave a two-hour speech before Lincoln at Gettysburg?” He handed Fort a brochure with the Gettysburg Address written out in multiple languages. “I don’t see that speech carved in marble, do you? If that’s not proof that shorter is better, I don’t—”

  A second tremor hit, this one more violent. Several people shouted in surprise around the memorial, and Fort almost lost his balance, barely avoiding dropping to his knees on the marble. He looked up at his father in alarm. Was this an earthquake? What was happening?

  His father reached over to steady Fort as the trembling stopped again. “Ladies, maybe you should go find your parents,” he said to the two girls they’d been talking to, then turned to Fort. “Are you okay, kiddo?”

  “Totally fine,” Fort said, pretending his heart wasn’t still racing. “It was nothing.”

  “That’s the spirit,” his father said, though he looked a bit shaken too. “But maybe we should head back to the hotel and grab some dinner. Einstein can wait. After all, time is his relative, I think. Probably a cousin.”

  Fort couldn’t even bring himself to roll his eyes. Instead, he shoved the Gettysburg Address brochure in his pocket, and started to make his way through the now-unsettled crowd toward the stairs. As he reached the top of the steps, something strange caught his eye in the distance.

  The Lincoln Memorial was surrounded by a circle of roadway, with the Reflecting Pool stretching out from the memorial to the Washington Monument almost a mile away.

  But even from that distance, Fort could see lines of people quickly leaving the monument in every direction.

  That wasn’t a great sign. But the strangest thing about it was that as far as Fort could tell from this distance, all the tourists were running from the monument in single-file lines, each person moving at the exact same speed.

  “Dad, do you see that?” Fort asked, turning around just as a third tremor struck, this time much worse than the last two. The stone of the memorial leaped straight up, throwing Fort a foot in the air. He landed hard as the stone cracked beneath him in a jagged lightning shape all the way down the steps.

  “Out!” Fort’s father shouted, pushing the girls toward the exit before grabbing Fort’s hand and yanking him down the stairs.

  They made it down to the street circling the memorial, with horrifying noises coming from behind them. The shaking grew more intense, and now people by the Reflecting Pool were running off, again in single file, one behind the other, not even looking as they crossed the street. Fortunately the cars had all stopped and the passengers had exited their vehicles, merging smoothly into the lines of fleeing tourists.

  As odd as all of that was, even stranger was that no one was screaming in fear, yelling for a friend, or even saying a word. Instead, they were all deathly quiet, moving in unison like some sort of flash mob they’d been choreographing for months. The sheer silence of those fleeing sent a chill down Fort’s spine.

  A horrible new cracking noise erupted across the Reflecting Pool, like rock scraping against rock, and Fort’s father shouted something, but the grinding stone overpowered his words. Fort turned to find people near him pointing at the Washington Monument, and they were all screaming. That at least felt more normal to Fort than the eerie silence closer to the monument and Reflecting Pool.

  “Look out!” someone yelled as a car came speeding around the circle, right toward a large group of tourists. One of the two girls from above had just stepped in the path of the car, but the other yanked her out of its way as the car roared past.

  “Off the road!” his father shouted, and pushed both Fort and the girls onto the lawn to the side of the crumbling Lincoln Memorial. “We have to get out of here!”

  “My mom’s still in there!” one of the girls shouted. “I need to go find her!”

  “I’m coming—” the other girl started to say, then abruptly stopped, turned, and ran off toward the side streets.

  “Megan?” the first girl called after her. “Where are you going?!�
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  Fort’s father looked back up into the Lincoln Memorial, then down at Fort. “Wait here,” he said. “Don’t move until I get back! I’m going to go find their mother.”

  His father took the cracked steps two by two, pushing up against the crowd like he was swimming up a waterfall. Fort waited for a moment, then ran after him, followed by the remaining girl.

  “Look!” someone shouted behind him.

  “It can’t be real,” someone else said, filming with his phone.

  Fort threw a look over his shoulder for a moment, then froze in place, halfway up the steps.

  Next to the Washington Monument, something was pushing up out of the ground.

  Something that looked like . . . claws.

  Claws that were ten feet tall.

  - TWO -

  WHAT IS THAT?!” THE GIRL next to Fort shouted, her voice cracking with terror.

  Fort couldn’t respond, could barely breathe. This wasn’t happening. This type of thing only happened in movies, not in real life. Definitely not in the middle of Washington, D.C.

  Enormous black-scaled fingers pushed up through the ground, sending grass, rock, and dirt flying in every direction. A muffled roar sounded from somewhere beneath them, and Fort felt it even through the ground shaking.

  “You get him, I’ll grab her!” Fort heard his father shout from somewhere in the memorial, but Fort couldn’t move. Fear pulsated through his body with every racing heartbeat, freezing his feet to the marble steps like he’d been sculpted there.

  TV helicopters flew overhead toward the monument, only to suddenly reverse course as they approached, flying back over the city. Sirens played in the distance too, but somehow never made it any closer. And now the crowds on the monument steps below Fort began to run off in silent waves, as if a command to escape was passing up through them one at a time. But even with the insanely ordered evacuation, the shaking ground made it hard to move, let alone run, and many of them lost their footing as they escaped.

  “This can’t be real!” the girl next to Fort said as one of the clawed hands reached up to the Washington Monument and grabbed it with its hundred-foot-long fingers. The obelisk began to tilt, then topple toward the ground.

  When it hit, the ground jumped beneath Fort’s feet, and he found himself flying in the air, only to slam into the steps a few feet up.

  “Lauren, where is Megan?!” a woman shouted from above him. Fort looked up to find the girls’ mother carrying an old man, one Fort had seen earlier in an electric scooter. “Where did she go?”

  Lauren started to answer, only to go silent as her eyes glazed over. Without another word, she turned around and ran down the steps, away from her mother.

  “Lauren!” the woman shouted, stumbling against the trembling ground.

  “Dad?” Fort shouted up.

  “Fort, get out of here!” his father shouted from somewhere inside. “I’ll be right behind you!”

  Fort looked back at the devastation across the National Mall, then turned back toward the memorial and forced his feet to move up the stairs, one after the other. Don’t look at it, he thought, gritting his teeth to fight through the fear. You can do this. Dad needs your help!

  He took a step, then another, fighting to keep his balance while trying not to think about the horrific creature emerging from the ground behind him. His father needed him, and there was no way he was going to let him down. He had to—

  RUN.

  The thought hit his mind like a hammer, and Fort instantly straightened up, his mind blank, then turned and ran down the stairs. In the distance, he could see the remnants of the Washington Monument, but that didn’t matter. Nothing seemed to mean anything beyond leaving in an orderly fashion.

  RUN.

  He hit the bottom of the steps and ran toward the line of people escaping—

  “Fort!” his father shouted, and somehow, it cut through the fog in Fort’s head. He slowed to a stop, then froze in place, one foot hanging in midair.

  RUN!

  The power of the command crashed over him like an ocean wave, drowning out all his other thoughts, and he started jogging, merging in line with the other runners. But as he reached the side of the Lincoln Memorial, he slowed again, then stopped, shaking his head.

  What was he doing? His father was still up there!

  A young woman plowed into him from behind, knocking him off his feet. She stumbled a bit, then continued running like nothing had happened. Fort stared after her for a moment in confusion, then looked back up the stairs to find his father carrying an older woman who’d been with the man on the scooter.

  Fort pushed himself up and made his way back to the steps. “Dad!” he shouted. “Are you okay? I can help!”

  “No, just go!” his father shouted, waving with one hand as he slowly tried to maneuver down the shaking stairs.

  Fort ignored him and started crawling up the steps on all fours. As he reached the halfway point, though, the marble beneath him exploded, throwing him off into the grass to the side of the memorial. For a moment, everything went blurry and he couldn’t breathe, the air knocked right out of his lungs.

  And then two ten-foot tall claws pushed up through the steps where Fort had been standing, and a roar shook the ground, a sound so powerful Fort could feel it in his chest.

  A noise like torrents of rushing water thundered behind him, and he turned to find a nightmare rising from the middle of the Reflecting Pool, a giant black-scaled head covered in horns like some sort of crown. The water drained down into the hole it created, and the creature roared again, revealing what looked like row upon row of massive razor-sharp teeth. Its red glowing eyes stared down in fury, and the sheer impossibility and terror of it froze Fort in place. He couldn’t even think, let alone comprehend what he was looking at.

  More helicopters flew in, this time painted black, and these actually made it close to the creature. A missile rocketed out of one, slamming into its head, but the monster didn’t even seem to notice.

  “Fort!” his father yelled from above. Fort looked up to find his father on his knees on the steps just below the creature’s fingers. The roof was crumbling down all around him, sending huge chunks of marble crashing into the steps.

  “Dad!” Fort shouted, and tried to get to his feet, but the shaking was too intense.

  The creature’s hand pushed the rest of the way out of the stairs, closing around his father and the woman he’d been carrying. Fort’s heart stopped as he watched his father disappear behind those scaly fingers.

  But then the old woman came tumbling out from between the creature’s fingers, crashing to the grass next to Fort, with his father pushing through right after her.

  “DAD!” Fort shouted as the creature roared behind him. Something else hissed out of the helicopter and exploded against the creature, but it didn’t matter, nothing mattered but his father getting free. He was almost there, half his body had already made it out of the creature’s grasp—

  But then the hand started pulling back below ground.

  “Fort!” his father shouted. The creature’s hand curled around him, rupturing the remains of the memorial as it descended back into the ground. “FORT—”

  The creature’s massive hand disappeared within the earth, and his father went silent.

  “NO!” Fort shrieked, and he crawled toward the wreckage, trying to make his way to the hole his father had been pulled into.

  NO. LEAVE NOW. RUN.

  “I won’t!” he shouted, not sure who he was talking to, but determined to find his father. “Dad! Can you hear me? Dad!”

  He clambered up over the jagged stones, half climbing, half pulling himself toward the hole. A wave of heat swept out of the crack, almost too hot to bear, but Fort pushed himself onward and stared down into the abyss.

  “DAD!” he shouted again. . . .

  And then something took over, and Fort lost control of his body.

  His hands pushed him away from the hole, and his feet clim
bed him down the rocks. Inside his mind, Fort watched his actions helplessly, almost from a distance, like he was staring down at himself from the wrong end of a telescope.

  Inwardly, he screamed over and over, but no sound escaped his lips as his body continued on, jogging him away from danger and into a line with the rest of the silent, fleeing tourists.

  NO! he shouted into the void, pushing back with all his strength against whatever force was taking him from his father. He fought and struggled and resisted, his efforts growing in intensity until pain filled his mind and he could barely think, the image of the creature taking his father propelling him to keep battling to free himself, to regain control over his mind, to make it LET GO—

  And then, abruptly, his body was his own again. From an impossibly long distance, he heard a scream, and it echoed through his brain. It sounded like a girl’s voice, and she was in pain, but that didn’t matter, nothing mattered except that he was free and could go back to his father. . . .

  But a wave of pain washed over Fort, drowning his mind in agony, and everything went dark as he collapsed to the ground, silent joggers flowing around him from every side.

  - THREE -

  THE ENORMOUS SCALED CREATURE EXPLODED out of a circle of green fire, and Fort couldn’t move, couldn’t even speak, he was so terrified. Someone, somewhere near him, began to speak in a low, ugly voice, saying things he couldn’t understand. Finally he screamed, but the voice didn’t sound like his. It was just like the one in his mind, the girl that he’d heard yell in pain—

  And then Fort woke up, and this time he recognized his own terrified shouts. Something grabbed him, and he screamed even louder, trying to break free of whatever had taken over his body.

  “It’s okay!” someone said, and strong hands grabbed his shoulders and squeezed, trying to hold him down. “Quiet now. You’re safe!”

  Fort fought back for a moment, still screaming, only to slowly realize that he wasn’t on the National Mall anymore. Instead, he was surrounded by various medical machines and screens beeping and glowing around the sterile white room. A middle-aged nurse stood over him, still holding his shoulders and looking concerned.