The Ruby Circle

Chapter 4 Syndey

I DON’T RECOMMEND TURNING INTO A CAT.

The actual experience of being a cat isn’t too bad. But coming out of it? Awful. I felt as though I were being torn in two. My bones and skin stretched and twisted in ways that nature had never intended, and when it was all over, I felt beaten and bruised—like the time I’d fallen down a full flight of stairs as a child. A vaguely nauseous feeling settled in the pit of my stomach, and for a panicked moment, I thought I would throw up. Forced vomiting had been one of many punishments the Alchemists had inflicted on me while I was in their captivity, and the very idea of it triggered a flood of unwelcome memories. Fortunately, the sensation soon passed, and I felt more or less like my former self.

“There’s a great place to get coffee about twenty miles from here,” Ms. Terwilliger said once I was settled and had my seat belt on. “We’ll stop there and get some gas before pushing on to Pittsburgh.”

I nodded, finished a text to Adrian, and stretched my legs, still coming to terms with the return to my old body. Beside me in the seat sat the wooden box Ms. Terwilliger had brought, and I picked it up for a closer look. Free of its sealing enchantment, there was nothing extraordinary about it now. In the month since Jill’s disappearance, there’d been a lot of speculation about who would’ve taken her. Almost always, we’d laid the blame on some Moroi dissident who didn’t support Lissa. Yet, this clearly showed evidence of human magic, which kind of turned everything we’d believed upside down. Aside from me, we knew of no magic-using humans working with Moroi.

I could only hope this museum offered some answers, as unlikely as it seemed. Inside the box, the words on that flyer glared up at me: COME PLAY, SYDNEY.

Once we had our coffee, the drive passed uneventfully, with our only slowdown being summertime construction scattered along the highway. Honestly, it would have been a pleasant road trip, if not for the fact we were all still keyed up with worry and tension. I was worried Adrian might do something reckless back at Court. And, of course, I was worried about Jill. Eddie clearly was too, and rather than make him feel better, this new lead had only increased his agitation. He barely said two words to us the whole drive. We still made good time overall, rolling up to the Pittsburgh Robot Museum in late afternoon. A hand-painted sign declared that it was “world famous,” but none of us had ever heard of it. Judging from the empty parking lot, not many people had.

“We’re usually busier on weekends,” explained the attendant at the admission window. We bought three tickets and stepped inside.

“Please come in, please come in,” boomed a robot standing near the entrance. It didn’t move and had been patched with duct tape in a number of places. In its arms, it held a long, rectangular welcome sign.

The bulk of the museum was contained inside one large gallery that displayed a motley assortment of robots used in both entertainment and practical business applications. Most of the displays were static, but a few were animated, like a mini assembly line showing a robot that checked for manufacturing quality control. A conveyor belt on an endless loop sent ceramic mugs around and around past a boxy-looking device that paused and scanned each one, flashing either red or green lights, depending on whether it found a defect.

An adjacent room displayed “A History of Robotics” along its walls. It included mythological origins, like automatons that served the Greek god Hephaestus, which I thought was a nice touch. The bulk of the timeline focused on developments in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries and then ended with THE FUTURE: ???

I stared at those question marks a moment, thinking they might as well be a label for my own future. What did my life hold? Would I ever manage the college and world-travel dreams I’d harbored for so long? Or would my life be limited to a suite of rooms surrounded by vampires? Was being on the run the best outcome I could hope for?

“Sydney?”

Ms. Terwilliger’s voice drew me from the timeline room, and I returned to the main gallery. She and Eddie were standing by a huge glass display case featuring what looked like a metal dinosaur more than twice my height. I recognized it as the one from the flyer, beside which my name had been written. Ms. Terwilliger’s hand rested on the glass. “Can you feel this?” she asked me.

I placed my hand next to hers and waited. After several seconds, I sensed some kind of buzzing energy. Eddie imitated us but then shook his head. “I don’t feel anything,” he said.

“There’s an enchantment on this display,” Ms. Terwilliger explained, stepping back.

“Can you tell anything about it?” I asked. She was more sensitive to that sort of thing than I was. It was a skill that required practice.

“No. I need to open this case.”

There was a small metal lock on the glass case that either of us probably could have opened with a spell. From what I could tell, there was no other security or electronic alarm on this display or the others, and I honestly wasn’t surprised. Something told me this place didn’t have the budget for anything too high tech, ironically enough. As it was, it didn’t even have air conditioning, making it hot and stuffy inside with only a few screened windows to provide ventilation.

“Ah,” said the attendant, striding over to us. He’d probably grown bored at his post. “I see you’re admiring the Raptorbot.”

I glanced up at its metal teeth and red eyes. “It’s something else,” I said honestly.

“Are you fans of the movie?” he asked.

“What movie?” I asked.

“Raptorbot Rampage,” said the attendant.

“Yes,” said Eddie, almost reluctantly. Ms. Terwilliger and I turned to him in surprise. He flushed under our scrutiny. “What? It . . . well, it was kind of awesome. I saw it with Micah and Trey.”

The attendant nodded eagerly. “It’s about a scientist whose wife is dying of an incurable disease. Just before she dies, he builds this robot raptor and manages to transfer her soul into it. Only things go unexpectedly awry when she goes off on a rampant killing spree.”

“It couldn’t have been that unexpected,” I argued. “I mean, why did he build a dinosaur body for her? Why not something more human? Or at least a more friendly animal?”

“Because then there wouldn’t have been much of a movie,” said Eddie.

“There’s still got to be a plausible backstory . . .” I said.

A wry smile crossed Eddie’s features, and although the entire topic was absurd, I realized I’d hardly ever seen anything but a grim expression on his face since Jill had been taken. “I don’t think you can really sit down with a movie called Raptorbot Rampage and expect a plausible backstory,” he said.

The attendant looked offended. “What are you suggesting? It was a fine piece of film. When the sequel comes out, people will be lined up out the doors to see this exhibit!”

“Sequel?” Eddie and I asked in unison.

Ms. Terwilliger cleared her throat. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but how long are you open today?”

“Until five,” said the attendant, still looking put out that I wasn’t showing proper respect for the Raptorbot.

“Thank you,” she said. “I think we’ve seen all we need. It’s been an enjoyable visit. Let’s go, Sydney, Eddie.”

Puzzled over her actions, we followed her out but didn’t speak until we were in the car. “What’s going on?” I asked.

“We need to come back tonight, after they’re closed, and bust into that display.” She spoke in a prim and proper tone, not at all like she was suggesting breaking and entering. “I figured there was no point in sticking around and making ourselves more memorable.”

“We were probably his only customers today,” I remarked. “That’ll make us memorable—that and having someone who’s actually seen and liked Raptorbot Rampage.”

“Hey,” warned Eddie. “Don’t judge until you’ve watched it.”

We went into downtown Pittsburgh and booked a hotel, since presumably we’d be staying there overnight. A number of restaurants were within walking distance, and we found a nice place for dinner where we could almost pretend we were living a normal life. Even still, I could tell Eddie was restless. He offered to go on a walk with me after dinner, and for a moment, I was tempted. The historic part of downtown looked like it’d be fun to explore, and it was a perfect summer evening, warm and breezy. Then, I thought about the Alchemists finding me and locking me away again, forcing me to repeat their rhetoric and undergo their tortures. My chest grew tight, and I shook my head.

“I’ll just wait in our room until we go back to the museum.”

“They don’t know you’re here,” he said softly, watching me with a careful eye. “And I wouldn’t let any of them get near you anyway.”

I shook my head. “Better play it safe.”

When it was fully dark outside, we drove back to the robot museum and parked a few blocks away, making the rest of the journey on foot. Metal grates had been closed and locked in front of all the windows and doors, and a sign warned that there was an electronic alarm on the door.

“No sign that the windows are rigged with an alarm,” said Eddie, after inspecting it closely. “In fact, you can see that one of them’s still open behind its metal grate—probably to air the place out.” Even though it was well into night, the summer heat and humidity were still going strong.

“No cameras inside, and none that I see here either,” added Ms. Terwilliger.

“I guess they sunk all their budget into the Raptorbot,” I said. “Not that it seems to be bringing in the customers.”

Eddie’s brief moment of levity earlier was long gone, and he made no response to my barb. Instead, he examined the metal grate in front of the open window, his expression steely. “If I pull hard enough, I might be able to break this lock.”

“No need to use up your strength,” said Ms. Terwilliger. “I’m sure I have a spell to open it.”

“And no need to use up your magic,” I said, stepping forward. From the depths of my large purse, I pulled out a small vial. My time cooped up in our suite at Court hadn’t been entirely wasted. Thanks to our questionably moral friend Abe, I’d been able to get my hand on a number of the components that went into some of the Alchemists’ more common chemical compounds. I’d spent my long confinement building up a stockpile of useful things—including this one, which dissolved metal pretty handily.

The metal grating was like a little gate that slid out from one side of the window and latched to a lock on the opposite side. It actually might have been tough for Eddie to break it, but a few drops of the solution on the latch melted it away, releasing the gate easily. We slid it open, exposing the window. Its glass was up, with only a screen between the contents of the museum and us. Eddie took out a pocketknife, quickly and efficiently cutting open the screen. I winced in spite of myself.

“I feel kind of bad,” I admitted. “This place isn’t doing so well, and now we’re damaging their property.”

“That’s what insurance is for,” said Ms. Terwilliger. “Besides, if it helps us find Jill, I’m sure your queen can make an anonymous donation to this place.”

Eddie helped the two of us climb up and get through the window, and then he followed deftly on his own. Inside, the gallery was empty and quiet—exactly how it was during regular business hours. The dim glow from the exit signs, as well as illumination from the streetlamps outside, provided enough light for us to see by, once we gave our eyes some time to adjust. We went immediately to the Raptorbot exhibit, and this time, I let Ms. Terwilliger cast an unlocking spell on the glass door. After she finished, I wondered for a moment if there might be some kind of spell on it that was keyed to me again. Then we heard an audible click, and the door swung open. Inside the case, the Raptorbot rested on top of a large stand that also had a door and an interior compartment.

“No lock,” I said, reaching to pull open the smaller door.

“Sydney, wait—” began Ms. Terwilliger, but she was too late. I’d already opened it. I froze, expecting the entire thing to explode. But, after several tense seconds, nothing happened. I exhaled in relief.

“Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

She nodded, still ill at ease. “I can still sense that there’s some sort of magic here.”

“Maybe it’s the object inside this,” I said. I couldn’t make out the interior compartment’s belongings and tentatively reached my hand into the dark space, half-expecting a scorpion to sting me. Instead, my fingertips touched a large manila envelope, which I slowly pulled out. My name was written across it.

“Same handwriting,” Eddie observed.

I nodded in agreement. “Yeah, too bad we don’t have an easy way to trace—do you hear that?”

I could tell from Eddie’s face that his quicker hearing had already picked it up. Ms. Terwilliger took a little longer to notice. “Like buzzing . . .” She glanced up into the Raptorbot’s metal face. “From that.”

The buzzing grew louder and louder, and Eddie hurried forward to put himself between the display case and us. “Get back!” he shouted, just as the Raptorbot’s mouth opened and several dozen glowing objects came flying out. They came at us with unbelievable force, and I fell backward, landing awkwardly on my side. I held up my hands to block the glowing swarm, but some of them still grazed my face as they passed by. I cried out at the contact, which stung like a million paper cuts.

“What are they?” I managed to exclaim.

“Fotianas,” Ms. Terwilliger called back. She too had hit the floor and was covering her face as the swarm came by for another pass.

“Foti-what?” asked Eddie.

“They’re from the same realm Hopper comes from, but they’re much less friendly.” She cautiously removed her hands from her face so she could get a line of sight on the creatures. “Think of them as mutant fireflies.”

Eddie, ever ready to improvise, grabbed the welcome sign from the robot standing at the doorway. Wielding it like a baseball bat, he swung it toward the fotianas as they came toward him. As though they shared one mind, the swarm parted so that his “bat” hit mostly open air. Only a couple of the fotianas were too slow. They disintegrated into sparks as they were struck. That was encouraging, at least, but we had a lot more of them to get through. Things grew more complicated when the swarm split into three and came after each of us.

I had just gotten to my feet, but as I saw the group targeting me—in an arrow formation, even—I tore across the room and managed to duck under the conveyor belt’s table just in time. “What’s the best way to get rid of them?” I yelled to Ms. Terwilliger. “Fire?” Across the room, I could see Eddie continuing to nick away at them with his sign, but their speed and agility kept him from making significant progress.

“I don’t want to burn this place down,” she called back, trying to dodge as the swarm chasing her passed nearby. They swiped her arm, leaving tears in her sleeve and small bloody cuts visible on the skin beneath. As soon as she had some distance between her and them, she held up her hands and chanted a Latin incantation I’d never heard before. A hundred tiny sparkling crystals appeared in the air before her, and with another command, she sent them flying into the fotianas. Where the crystals struck, the “mutant fireflies” vanished into sparks.

The swarm chasing me flew low, trying to run me out from under my table. I waved them off, getting my hand stung in the process, as I parsed Ms. Terwilliger’s spell. It had been very similar in word and feel to my old friend the fireball spell, with just a few notable differences. It was an ice spell, I realized. Thrown with enough force, bits of ice could have the impact of little razors.

I scurried out from under my table and tried to put some space between my swarm and me. Behind me, I heard Ms. Terwilliger once again reciting the spell. Hoping I had the words memorized, I attempted the same feat, using the same motions and gestures I would for the fireball spell. Power coursed through me, and ice crystals shot forward at my command. But my aim wasn’t as good as Ms. Terwilliger’s. Although the spell’s structure was similar to that of the fireball, the feel of it was different and required practice. I only managed to take out a few of the fotianas that time but had more success on my second and third attempts. Whenever I paused to recast, they wasted no chance to come at me, causing more irritation and pain. I would wave them off and cast the spell again, gradually picking off their numbers.

I lost track of time until I caught sight of a second cluster of ice crystals joining mine as I sent them into the significantly smaller fotiana flock. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ms. Terwilliger waving her hands. A moment later, Eddie came striding forward as well, still wielding that sign. They’d both defeated their respective swarms. Mine was the only one left, and within minutes, my friends helped me finish off the last of them.

Without the buzzing, the room suddenly took on an eerie silence. We all stood still, chests rising and falling heavily, as we looked around the dim room for any further signs of danger. Eddie and Ms. Terwilliger’s faces both showed cuts and scrapes where the fotianas had touched them, and from the stinging of my own skin, I assumed I looked the same. We were alive, though, and the threat seemed to be neutralized for now.

“Where’s the envelope?” Eddie asked at last.

I hurried over to where I’d dropped it, back by the Raptorbot, who had just surveyed our altercation from his lofty display. The ice crystals had melted into puddles on the floor, and one corner of the envelope was soaked as a result. Otherwise, it seemed undamaged. I carried it over to my friends and turned to Ms. Terwilliger before opening it.

“Do you sense anything?” I asked.

“If there’s a spell, it’s very cleverly concealed.” She held up her hand and a small burst of fire appeared in her palm. “I’ll be ready, just in case.”

The envelope was heavy and bulky, so I wasn’t entirely surprised when I found a brick inside, even though I had no clue what its purpose could be. It appeared to be made out of some sort of sandstone. I glanced at my companions to see if it made sense to them, but they looked as puzzled as I felt. I reached back into the envelope and pulled out a map of the Missouri Ozarks.

“I really didn’t expect that,” I remarked, scanning it for any writing or clues. There were none.

Anger filled Eddie’s features, laced with something I felt too: disappointment. I hadn’t known what we’d discover here, but there’d been a secret part of me that had hoped for a miracle and that we’d find Jill herself. Instead, all we had to show for this trip were some cuts and more cryptic clues. I shook the envelope. It felt empty.

“What on earth could this mean?” mused Ms. Terwilliger, taking the map from me.

“It means someone’s playing with us,” growled Eddie. He wiped a hand over his sweaty forehead, smearing blood in the process. “For all we know, Jill isn’t even involved in this, and someone’s just making us think they have her.”

I peered inside the envelope, and my heart sank when I realized it wasn’t empty after all. “I’m afraid not.” I reached into it and pulled out the envelope’s last item. Even in the poor lighting, there was no mistaking what this was: a lock of long, curling, light brown hair. And there was no question to whom it belonged. “Whoever’s doing this, they definitely have Jill.”