Psych: Mind Over Magic

Chapter One

Shawn and Gus were halfway up the hill when the growling started.

Gus froze. “What was that?”

“It was nothing.”

“It definitely was not nothing. It was something. Something with teeth.”

The growling came again, closer this time. Gus wheeled around, searching for its source. The switch-back path was illuminated by dozens of ankle-high lights; the landscaped hillside on either side was lost in the black of night. Anything could be out there.

“Let’s go home,” Gus said.

“We just got here,” Shawn said. “In fact, technically we’re not even here yet. We’re not going to be here until we get to the top of this hill.”

There was another growl, and this time Gus could tell it was getting closer. Somewhere beyond the reach of the path lights, bushes rustled.

“I know what that is,” Gus said. “That’s a dog. A vicious, angry, bloodthirsty guard dog.”

“Why would there be a guard dog out here?”

“I don’t know,” Gus said. “Maybe to guard the place?”

“From us? We’re invited guests.”

“Maybe you can show Fido our invitation before he rips our throats out.”

“Good thinking.” Shawn pulled a printed card out of his shirt pocket. Across the top, bloodred letters read ONE LAST NIGHT OF LIFE-JOIN THE WAKE AT THE FORTRESS OF MAGIC. Shawn knelt down to read the invitation in the glow of the path lights.

“Uh-oh,” Shawn said.

“Uh-oh?” Gus said. “ Uh-oh? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s a common expression of concern, generally uttered on the discovery of information that presages disaster.”

“I know what it means,” Gus said.

“Then why did you ask?”

There was a snarl from the hill to the left of the path. Gus desperately tried to shift his eyes to night-vision mode, just in case he was actually an android sent from the robot-ruled future to hunt down and kill the future mother of the leader of the human resistance and he’d simply forgotten about that. But his nonbionic eyes refused to illuminate the hillside in a green glow.

“Because I want to know what disaster you were presaging,” Gus said. “And since when did you start using words like ‘presaging,’ anyway?”

“I thought ‘augur’ would seem pretentious,” Shawn said. “Am I wrong?”

There was another growl, this time from the right. “Maybe we can find out when they put it on our grave-stones,” Gus said.

“In that case, I’d definitely go with ‘augur,’ ” Shawn said. “Those chiselers charge by the letter. In fact, we’d probably want to switch to ‘bode’ and save a couple of bucks.”

“Shawn!”

“Okay, there is a small problem.” Shawn handed the invitation to Gus, who struggled to make out the words in the dim light.

“What? It’s the right date, the right time, the right place. What’s wrong?”

Shawn tapped the block of type at the bottom of the card. “Did we get anything along with this invitation? A note or a letter?”

“You know we didn’t. Why?”

“Funny little thing in small print at the bottom here. Apparently if you wish admittance to the Fortress, you must say the magic words, else all is four feet.”

“Four feet?”

“Although I think you can’t really say it’s all four feet. Four feet and fangs, more like.”

“That doesn’t make any sense at all.” Gus snatched the invitation and squinted to read the tiny print.

“Neither does siccing a pack of vicious dogs on your guests. Although I’ve been to a couple of parties where it wouldn’t have been a bad idea,” Shawn said.

The letters danced in front of Gus’ eyes, finally resolving themselves into one recognizable word.

“Not four feet,” Gus said. “ Forfeit. Else all is forfeit.”

A growl came from the darkness directly in front of them. Gus moved behind Shawn, just in case.

“Okay, Mr. Night Vision,” Shawn said. “What are the magic words?”

Gus desperately scanned every centimeter of the invitation.

“It doesn’t say.”

There were growls all around them now. Brush rustled in every direction.

“Abracadabra!” Gus said loudly.

“You’re kidding.”

“It’s a magic word,” Gus said.

“To a five-year-old.”

“Do you have a better one?”

“I know the magic word that opens all doors, rights all wrongs, and grants all favors,” Shawn said.

“Oh, please.”

“Exactly!” Shawn pulled himself to his full height, took in a deep breath, and spoke in his deepest, most authoritative voice. “Please.”

For a moment, there was silence.

And then the growling started again.

“That’s funny,” Shawn said. “My father always said that was the magic word.”

Gus stared out into the darkness. “Shazam! Open Sesame! Alakazam!”

The growling got closer. Gus tried not to let the images of feral hounds feasting on human flesh completely shut down the logic centers of his brain.

“Anyway, we should look on the bright side,” Shawn said.

“We’re about to be mauled to death and possibly eaten unless we come up with a magic word, and you think there’s a bright side?”

“There’s always a bright side,” Shawn said.

“And in this case it would be…?”

“That I was right and you were wrong,” Shawn said.

“Wrong about what?”

“You said that growling was a dog.”

Gus could hear long nails clicking on the pathway below them. “And I was wrong?”

“Without a doubt,” Shawn said. “That’s at least four dogs.”

Furious, Gus turned to look at Shawn’s face one last time before he bashed it into butter. But as he tried to catch one last glimpse of that insufferably smug grin, Shawn’s face winked out into darkness.

“Shawn? Are you there?”

“I’m here.” Gus could feel Shawn’s breath in his ear.

“Are you… invisible?” Gus said hopefully.

“I don’t think so,” Shawn said. “But it’s kind of hard to tell, because all the lights just went out.”

Gus looked up and down the path. At least he assumed that’s where he was looking. The night was so black, he could have been staring at Jessica Alba modeling Victoria’s Secret and he wouldn’t have known.

All around them, the dogs started to howl.