First published in Great Britain 2018

by Egmont UK Limited

The Yellow Building, 1 Nicholas Road, London W11 4AN

Published by arrangement with Little, Brown and company,

a division of Hachette Book Group inc., New York, New York, USA

Text and inside illustrations © 2018 Neil Patrick Harris

Story illustrations by Lissy Marlin

How-to illustrations by Kyle Hilton

The moral rights of the author and illustrator have been asserted

First e-book edition 2018

ISBN 978 1 4052 9063 0

Ebook ISBN 978 1 7803 1840 0

www.egmont.co.uk

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Stay safe online. Any website addresses listed in this book are correct at the time of going to print. However, Egmont is not responsible for content hosted by third parties. Please be aware that online content can be subject to change and websites can contain content that is unsuitable for children. We advise that all children are supervised when using the internet.

Egmont takes its responsibility to the planet and its inhabitants very seriously. We aim to use papers from well-managed forests run by responsible suppliers.

To Harper and Gideon,

because the latter was listed first

in the previous book

and the former was far from pleased.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

WELCOME BACK!

ONE—the first one, the second time. Because this is the second book

TWO—the second second one

THREE—the first one after the second

FOUR—not the third

FIVE—this is how many fingers I have on my right hand. Not really important here, though

SIX—if you multiply the 2nd chapter by the 3rd, you’d get this one

SEVEN—this one is after that one

EIGHT—this one is before the next one

NINE—is anyone still reading these?

TEN—this is the number of all my fingers! Again, not really relevant

ELEVEN—or 2 in Roman numerals, but that’s confusing

TWELVE—there are this many royals in a deck of cards

THIRTEEN—number of cards in a suit

FOURTEEN—you’ll find this one on page 134

FIFTEEN—why isn’t it five-teen? I’ve always wondered

SIXTEEN—again, are you still reading these?

SEVENTEEN—lots of e’s in seventeen

EIGHTEEN—when you say this out loud, sometimes people think you are saying eighty

NINETEEN—can you imagine if there were eighty chapters?

TWENTY—that would be about fifty chapters too many

TWENTY-ONE—this is the official adult chapter

TWENTY-TWO—a number so nice, they named it twice

TWENTY-THREE—yeesh, did we have this many chapters last time?

TWENTY-FOUR—this just seems excessive

TWENTY-FIVE—uuuughhhhhh

TWENTY-SIX—oh wait—this one is cool. Twenty-six is the number of red cards in a deck. So that’s cool

TWENTY-SEVEN—or twenty-seven, if you count the joker

TWENTY-EIGHT—wait, is the joker red?

TWENTY-NINE—I looked it up – sometimes

THIRTY!—the last chapter! Made it. Whew. Now turn the page already!

NOTHING TO SEE HERE...

A PROMISE TO RETURN

WHAT’S MORSE CODE?

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Back series promotional page

Yes, you… the one with the awesome hair and this book in your hands!

Who else would I be talking to?

You’ve returned! How nice to see you again! It’s been too long. If I know you at all, I’ll bet you’re seeking an escape from the ordinary and looking for more adventure, more puzzles, more em-ay-gee-eye-see. Well, look no further. I have another story to tell you… Have I ever!

I hope you remember everything we discussed in the last book. It will make it easier to hop back in…

Need a refresher? No problem!

Let’s begin with our delightful cast. Do you recall the boy with fast fingers? The orphan, Carter Locke, was a wiz with card tricks and could make things vanish – and reappear too! Though truthfully, he didn’t believe in real magic until he hopped on a train to the town of Mineral Wells, where wonders appeared around every corner – from the buzzing circus tents of the fairgrounds to the magnificent auditorium way up in the hills at the Grand Oak Resort.

His friend Leila Vernon was the young and bright-eyed escape artist extraordinaire, who wrangled out of handcuffs and straitjackets as easily as if she’d played with them as toys in her cradle. Surely it had nothing to do with her lucky lockpicks, given to her by her fathers, whom she lived with above a certain magic shop on Main Street.

Let us not forget Theo Stein-Meyer, the multitalented violin prodigy who could levitate objects using his violin bow. Yes, music can be soothing for the soul, and for the heart, especially when it comes with magic. Theo rarely showed his regally thoughtful face around Mineral Wells unless he was dressed in one of his favourite and famous tuxedos.

There was also our little spitfire, Ridley Larsen, whose mad-scientist red hair made her look just as fierce as she acted. She could transform one object into another and then back again all before you could say “Abracadabra! ” Ridley kept a notebook hidden in a compartment in the arm of her wheelchair so she could work out puzzles and invent secret codes to share with her friends. If you’re especially kind, maybe one day she’ll share them with you too. (Or maybe she already has.)

And last (but not least!) were the hilarious Izzy and Olly, the comedic Golden twins, who performed at the Grand Oak Resort. Those two were quite the act, both literally and figuratively. If you wanted laughs, those were the twins you needed.

In our previous tale, not long ago – or was it forever ago? I can’t remember – Carter, Leila, Theo, Ridley, Olly, and Izzy used their stage magic skills to stop a rash of petty robberies and ultimately prevented the theft of the world’s largest diamond. Working together, these six kids bonded while battling the barbaric B. B. Bosso, and thus formed a very special magic club called the Magic Misfits.

Is it all coming back now?

Brilliant!

Now, for another reminder…

The volume you are currently holding tells the next chapter in the saga of our misfit magicians. Like the one that came before, this book is also filled with lessons on magic – lessons that you can practise in your bedroom or basement or school sports hall.

If you read the whole thing, both the tale and the lessons, you’ll likely come away with some skills of your own – skills that you can use to make your friends gasp and gag and giggle with gratitude. There may even be laughter and clapping. Because isn’t that what this is all about: making your friends smile and giving them an escape from the ordinariness of the everyday?

Once again, I must ask that you keep the secrets of the magical lessons to yourself. In other words, please don’t go whispering them into sewer grates in the dead of night. And don’t stand in front of an audience and explain how each trick works before or after you perform them. It ruins the illusion, and you probably won’t get the same kind of applause. And, of course, refrain from reciting the lessons to any gossips in your school. You never know when a rival magician might show up and thwart your hard work. Rival magicians can be tricky that way.

If you do feel the need to share these lessons, make sure it’s with a group of your best friends, those who’ve promised to keep your secrets – a magicians’ club, if you will, just like our very own Magic Misfits. After all, secret organizations are quite fun. Who doesn’t want to be part of a club?

One of the most fun things to do with other magic-minded folks is to put on a show. Keep this in mind as you discover the magic lessons within these pages. How would you set your stage to impress your audience? Would you use a great red curtain? Or would you start in the dark to add a sense of mystery and tension? Would one of your friends act as an announcer? Or might your magic club begin the show in silence?

These questions are not only useful when staging a magical production but they also come in handy when telling a story like the one I am about to begin. Personally, I feel that a mixture of the following aspects is most effective: curtains, trapdoors, shadows, mirrors, music, sound effects, voice-overs, and fog. And don’t forget the sense of excitement of a new journey.

Are you ready to find out which of these I’ve chosen to start our show?

I mean, story ?

Well then, go on and turn the page!

Leila Vernon had not always lived in Mineral Wells. In fact, her name had not always been Leila Vernon. When she stayed at Mother Margaret’s Home for Children, Leila’s last name had been Doe.

Doe was not a name that she’d been given by family – Doe was Leila’s name because no one knew who her family was. When Mother Margaret first found Leila, a notecard in the cradle stated only her first name and birth date. Leila never let this get the better of her. In fact, she tried harder than the other girls to keep a positive attitude, even when they treated her as if she were as worthless as a wooden penny.

That was why, one afternoon, when several girls from Mother Margaret’s Home were dragging Leila Doe down the hallway toward Mother Margaret’s office, Leila let out a loud. “Ha-ha-ha!” she shouted as they pinched her arms. “That tickles!”

Leila was not actually tickled by what the mean girls were doing to her, but she figured that maybe an adult would hear her loud cries and intervene. She didn’t need to be psychic to know what the girls were up to, as they locked her in the darkest cupboard in the whole orphanage at least once a week. All because the tallest of the bunch had decided at some point that she didn’t like Leila always smiling and being cheery.

The tall girl wished for Leila to be as miserable as she was. And so she and her friends went out of their way to torment Leila every chance they got. Leila fought with every breath to not show them how much they were hurting her, especially on this particular afternoon, when a group of real-live magicians from the town of Mineral Wells was going to perform for all the children. Leila had been looking forward to the show for weeks.

“Come on, guys!” Leila said with a forced smile. “Let’s all go down to the sitting room. Everyone is probably waiting for us. There might be cookies!”

The only response she got was a twisted echo of her last statement. “There might be cookies,” the tall girl repeated snidely. The others cackled cruelly.

As the gang dragged Leila toward Mother Margaret’s office, she dug her heels into the linoleum. But together, the girls were too strong. The soles of her shoes left black streaks across the grey tile floor. The tallest girl flung the office door open, and the others yanked Leila through the room toward the familiar cupboard door. They threw her into the cupboard and slammed the door shut, drowning Leila’s vision in darkness. Leila heard the door lock from the other side.

“Okay, joke’s over, let me out!” Leila begged, banging on the door. “Don’t you want to see the magicians?”

“Sure we do!” called one of the girls through the thick wood. “That’s where we are headed right now.”

“Come join us… if you can!” called another. Laughter rang out like the cries of crows that often sounded across the playground outside. Their footsteps faded as they ran away.

Leila knew what would happen when she tried the knob, but – always hopeful – she tried it anyway.

It was locked. And she was alone. Again.

Leila swivelled her head back and forth, but the dark was so complete her eyes didn’t register any movement. Her heart thundered as it usually did whenever the gang of girls shoved her in here. The acrid smell of the damp wooden walls stung her nose.

In the past, it had taken an adult an hour or more to discover Leila cowering in the corner of the cupboard. And whenever they did find her, they scolded Leila as if she had locked herself in the headmistress’s cupboard.

To calm down, Leila imagined herself as a beautiful girl who was part of the magic show downstairs: purposely shut inside a cabinet on stage, then wowing the audience by disappearing without a trace, with a flash and a bang and a whizzz-zup !

Frustration clenched her body. The magic show was the only thing she’d been looking forward to recently. She wanted to see white doves fly from the formal jackets of the magicians, flower bouquets appear from thin air, playing cards float up and out of a deck…

Leila decided she was not going to allow those girls to ruin this for her. For the first time, she’d stand up, really stand up to them. But before she could do that, she had to figure out a way to escape.

Leila felt around in the dark, pushing her finger against the keyhole. Perhaps there was a way to unlock it from the inside. Leila had never picked a lock before, but she’d read about heroes doing it in stories. First, she’d need some tools. She plucked out the hairpin holding her hair in place and stuck it in the keyhole. She turned it back and forth. Inside the lock, the tool met the tumblers. She heard them clinking. But without another pin, she wouldn’t be able to catch them and turn the locking mechanism.

She didn’t have another hairpin. But she was standing inside Mother Margaret’s office cupboard. Sweeping the floor with her fingers, her heart sped up as she encountered a lone paper clip. Luck was on her side!

She unfolded the clip. She stuck the tip into the keyhole and felt around, putting tension on the plug, seeing how far it would give. The pins clicked against the tumblers but kept slipping.

A muffled cheer came from the floor below. The show had begun.

“No, no, no!” Leila whispered to herself. In her mind’s eye, she pictured the mob of magicians standing on stage, pulling rabbits out of hats, transforming marbles into pearls, levitating chairs, and flipping black silk cloaks over their shoulders. She’d been counting on some magical memories to get her through the next few months with a smile on her face.

The more she rushed, the harder it was to manipulate the pin and clip in the keyhole. Minutes ticked by, until it felt as though she might never escape. She worried the show would end before she broke out. Leila was about to throw down her tools in frustration when she felt a distinct click, and the door swung open a crack. She tapped her feet excitedly against the floor in a celebratory dance.

At the top of the stairwell, a voice sounded from below: “And now for our final act…” The sound of clapping grew louder as Leila raced halfway down, then paused. In the sitting room, several rows of chairs were arranged around a platform, upon which sat a distinctive man in a black suit and a tall top hat. A black cape fell from his shoulders, and when he moved his arms, a red silk lining winked at her. The man’s hair was pure white and made of curls, while a straight black moustache smirked from the top of his lips. Leila plopped herself onto a middle step and watched the man with the curly white hair through the rickety wooden balusters.

You must already know who the man with the curly white hair is… but Leila didn’t. This was the moment she saw Mr Vernon for the very first time, and the sight took her breath away. Do you remember when Carter first encountered Mr Vernon? It was on the night that Carter arrived in Mineral Wells. He came down from the train yard to blend in with the crowds at Bosso’s circus. Mr Vernon’s deft skills – flipping two coins around and around between his knuckles – blew Carter’s mind.

Now, as Leila watched this same man’s two assistants tie him tightly to a metal chair, she felt something even more profound than Carter had. She was certain that she’d escaped from the cupboard upstairs so that fate would allow her to see this man.

The stage assistants’ faces were covered with a thin black stretchy fabric. First, they cuffed the man’s ankles to the chair’s legs. Then they wrapped a long chain around his torso and the chair’s back, so that his arms were pinned to his sides. The orphans in the audience gasped as the assistants attached a thick padlock to the ends of the chain, which hung in the centre of his chest. When they slipped an oil-cloth sack over the man’s head, several of the children cried out in fear.

Mother Margaret stood and waved her arms. “Mr Vernon is a professional!” she said. “Do not be alarmed!”

The man’s voice came from under the hood. “Do be alarmed!” he corrected. “For if I haven’t freed myself by the end of this very minute, I shall run out of oxygen.” Mother Margaret looked sheepish as she sat back down, as if thinking she’d made a mistake inviting this man to possibly perish in front of her wards.

Leila clung to the balusters, peering through like they were the bars of a cage. The two assistants held up a large white sheet before draping it over Mr Vernon’s body. The sheet covered him from head to toe. One of the assistants brought out a large hourglass timer, then set it down on the floor so that everyone could watch as the sand slipped through, second by second by second.

Leila held her breath. The figure under the sheet wriggled and writhed. The clanging of the clasped chains rang through the room. She couldn’t help but think of herself trapped in the cupboard upstairs, minutes earlier.

As the final grains poured into the bottom of the hourglass, the children chanted, “Five! Four! Three! Two! One! ” The figure under the sheet grew still. Seconds passed. The audience stood, a few at a time, jaws agape, wondering if this was all part of the trick.

Leila cried out, “Take off the hood! Someone help him!”

Frantic, the two assistants raced back onto the stage. They raised the sheet, held it up before the seated man, and peered cautiously behind it. Turning to the audience, they shook their masked heads, as if to say, We’re too late! The orphans went wild, some screaming, as the assistants dropped the sheet to the floor.

The chair where Mr Vernon had been seated was empty!

The room erupted in gasps of surprise until one of the assistants turned to the audience and removed his mask. As soon as the pure white curls sprang out from beneath, Leila knew that they’d all been had. The magician did escape – and in the most unexpected way. The crowd cheered as if someone had just announced that all of them were being adopted that day.

The man with the curly white hair stepped to the edge of the stage, grinned, then took a bow. Leila was so floored she nearly slid down the stairs. Instead she stood and clapped longer than anyone else.

When the applause ended, Leila pushed her way through the crowd, elbowing the tall girl and her gruff goons aside, to approach the man. “How did you do that, Mr Vernon?”

His eyes lit up when he saw her face. He paused as if lost in a trance, then answered quietly, “I’ll bet you know exactly why I cannot tell you.”

Leila thought hard. “A magician never reveals his secrets?”

The man chortled. He tapped her forehead lightly. “A bit psychic, are you?”

“Not that I know of,” said Leila, rubbing at the spot where he’d touched her. She felt the other orphans pushing in from behind her. She fought to block them out of her mind. “Were you really in danger?”

“Oh, but I am always in danger,” he said with a wink.

Leila laughed. “I want to learn how to escape like you did.”

“I see.” He squinted. “Well, it takes years of practise. Is that something you’d be prepared to do?”

“Oh yes! I’d practise every minute of every day to be like you!”

“Well, enthusiasm is rarely a bad thing,” he said, considering. “What is your name, dear?”

“Leila,” she answered quietly.

“Leila,” he echoed. “How pretty! And how long have you lived here with Mother Margaret?”

“All my life.”

He was quiet for a moment. “I’d like to come and see you again, Leila. Would that be all right?”

Leila’s face flushed. “It’d be more than all right !” she exclaimed. “Maybe you can teach me a trick or two?”

“Maybe…” He grinned again, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement. With both hands, he pinched his fingers together. As he moved his hands apart, Leila noticed that he held a soft white rope between them. He dropped one end and lowered the rope slowly into her outstretched palm. “For you. See what you can do with this. Might I suggest learning different types of knots? They can be helpful in many situations.”

Leila’s face flushed a deeper pink. She wanted to throw her arms around his neck and say thank you, but she didn’t want to make him think she was a weirdo.

At that moment, the other orphans crowded forwards, asking for Mr Vernon’s autograph and edging Leila away. She didn’t mind. He was going to come back and see her again. He’d teach her a trick. Maybe.

She’d be ready. She’d have some new knots to show him in response.

Later, in the bedroom she shared with five other orphans, Leila pulled a tin box out from a hiding place behind a brick in the wall beside her bed. She opened the lid, revealing a few loose, glittering keys.

One key was very special to her. You see, when someone placed Leila on the doorstep of Mother Margaret’s Home as an infant, they’d wrapped her in a blanket and left a string looped around her neck, with a key tied to it like a pendant. Of course, Leila didn’t remember any of that; she knew the story only because Mother Margaret had shared it with her. It was this first key that’d made Leila start looking for spare ones, or ones that appeared to be lost. She hoped that someday she’d have an interesting collection of all shapes and sizes.

Staring down at her keys, Leila thought about the magic show and how Mr Vernon had managed to break out of those impossible chains. For the first time, she felt like she’d unlocked something inside herself: a wish to escape. Really escape.

When the man with the white curly hair returned later that week with his husband, offering to adopt her, her wish came true – like magic.

One night, years later, in the apartment over Vernon’s Magic Shop, Leila Vernon stretched out atop her big bed, unable to sleep. Thoughts of dark cupboards kept popping into her head whenever she closed her eyes. A thin patchwork quilt covered Leila’s wiry frame, barely protecting her from the brisk air that crept through the open window of her bedroom.

The window looked out over Main Street and the green park that extended far out in both directions. The orange glow of streetlights shifted on the walls and ceiling as the shadows of leafy branches danced to a quiet music composed by the crickets and peeping tree frogs that called out to each other from the nestled hills surrounding the town of Mineral Wells.

Before bedtime, Leila’s two fathers had tucked the blanket around Leila’s body and kissed her good night, wishing her pleasant dreams. But Leila knew that no wish could protect her from memories of her old life. The dead of night was when they usually came to visit. Sometimes the memories were uninvited guests who stayed long after receiving cues that it was time to go. Sometimes they tried to sneak in, like cloddish cat burglars who had no clue how to finagle a locked door. And sometimes the memories seeped like sulfur smoke through cracks in the walls, threatening to choke and smother Leila, stinging her big brown eyes.

When the other memories became too much to handle, Leila would recall her adoption by the Vernons. She held on to the hand of that memory, as if it could lead her to safety. Sometimes it worked. But sometimes the darkness in those locked cupboards was too difficult to see through.

Especially after everything that had happened with B. B. Bosso and his circus of thieves several weeks before…

Leila blinked at the ceiling, feeling both blessed and cursed – happy to have this home and this family, but annoyed that the past kept knocking to be let in. This won’t do, she thought. She whipped away the quilt, then scurried to her bookshelf, where she’d placed her secret tin box.

The box rattled noisily. She drew it to her chest to quiet it. Next door was the room of her newfound cousin, Carter. She didn’t want the clamour to wake him.

Leila lifted the lid and stared at her key collection, which had grown substantially in the years since she’d moved to Mineral Wells. But her first key, the one tied to the string, the one that had been with her on the night Mother Margaret found her on the orphanage doorstep, sat on the very top. Leila lifted the string and let the key swing back and forth like a mesmerist’s pendulum.

She thought about Bosso and Carter and the other Misfits. She knew that Carter must also suffer from memories of his former life. She wondered if he ever thought of his missing parents, as she sometimes wondered why her own had deserted her on a dark, cold night. Other times, she was happy to not think of them at all. She pressed her hand against the cold key, as if to make an impression against her skin, one that she might use to forge a copy. Her body warmed the key, and the key warmed her body and calmed her mind.

From somewhere beyond her bedroom door, the sound of a commotion stirred: a chair suddenly shifting, a pile of books toppling from a shelf, things crashing to the floor. Next came a sharp and fearful yelp.

Leila raced into the darkness of the hallway, where she was instantly barraged with small, sharp objects flying at her, pecking her like angry birds. With a yelp, she swung her hand at the nearest light switch. The hall flooded with a soft glow.

Carter was crouched at his own bedroom door, shooting playing cards from his hands toward Leila. (Not angry birds after all, thank goodness!) She swatted them away. “Carter, it’s only me!”

He stopped immediately. “Oh geez, I’m sorry!”

His blond hair was a mess, his cheeks red and marked by rumpled bedsheets. He must have been woken up by the loud sounds as well. Of course, he had come out of his room prepared with his favourite weapon – a deck of cards. He asked, “Are you okay?”

Leila nodded. “You heard the crash and the yelp too?”

Before he could answer, there was another crash. The clamour came from behind Mr Vernon’s office door. It was as if the man were barreling into furniture and knocking things over.

Leila and Carter pounded on the door. From inside, her dad gave a muffled grunt. Carter tried the knob, but it was locked. Leila whipped out her lucky lockpicks from the pocket of her nightgown. With a few swift movements, Leila worked her magic, and the door swung inward.

Dante Vernon was standing in the corner, his curly white hair messy, his dark eyes as wide as the crystal balls that he sold in the magic shop downstairs. His chest heaved as if he’d just sprinted around the neighbourhood. “Oh good,” he said with a sudden smile. “At least now I know I’m not dreaming. Please shut the door. We can’t let it get out of the room with my book.”

Despite her confusion, Leila did as she was told.

“It? ” asked Carter. “What do you mean by it ?”

Mr Vernon pointed beneath his desk. Something in the shadows let out a horrifying screech.

Both Leila and Carter jumped.

“I’d been writing in my notebook when I dozed off. I woke up when something snatched the book out from under my hand,” Vernon explained. “The creature snuck in through the window, which I’ve closed and locked. It’s of vital importance that we get my book back. Understood?”

Leila and Carter nodded.

“Carter, toss me the little rope on the table beside you,” Vernon directed. Carter threw the white cord, and Vernon caught it one-handed. “Now, Leila, when I say go, slide the chair away, okay? On the count of three.”

Leila nodded even though she wasn’t nearly as ready as she would’ve liked. But that was what it meant to be a Vernon and a member of the Magic Misfits. You trusted your friends and your family… even when they asked you to help catch a mysterious creature that had snuck into their office in the middle of the night.

“One…”

Leila edged toward the chair.

“Two…”

Something growled from under the desk. Leila felt her stomach move up into her throat.

“Three!”

Leila yanked back the chair as Vernon dove under the desk. A blur of blondish fur raced over his spine, back toward the wall, and leapt into the shadows behind a large houseplant.

“What is that?” Carter yelped, more curious than frightened. Leila leaned forward. The creature’s silhouette was about a foot high and resembled a gremlin.

Mr Vernon got up, pushing his hair out of his face. He flicked his wrist and the soft rope became rigid in his grip, a loop forming at the end like a lasso. “Children, back away now. I’ve got this.”

“Hold on, Dad.” Leila’s voice quivered. She picked up the knocked-over lamp and aimed its bulb at the shadows.

Instantly, they could see it clearly. The creature looked up at them with fear in its dark eyes – a skinny little thing with a long tail and a black spiked collar around its neck. It shrieked again. It was a monkey.

Friends, I’ll bet you’re thinking that if you were ever in this situation, you’d plop yourself onto the floor, hold open your arms, and coo, “Give me a hug, you cuuuuuutie !” Let me assure you: Nighttime monkey thieves are not nearly as adorable as you’d like them to be.

“It’s Bosso’s monkey,” said Carter, his voice shaking. “I’m s-sure of it.”

Vernon raised his finger to his lips, trying to not startle the monkey, who snarled and tensed as if getting ready to jump at them. That was when Carter snapped his fingers, revealing a shortbread cookie in his other hand.

Carter was doing a simple trick called palming. Every good magician has practiced palming at one time or another. Have you? It’s a form of misdirection in which a magician hides an object by cupping it in the palm of his or her hand. The magician will then reveal the object by using their other hand to create a distraction. In this case, Carter snapped his fingers to capture the monkey’s attention, then showed him the cookie.

After being practically homeless for so many years, Carter always seemed to keep a cache of goodies in his pockets, Leila noted to herself. Looked like it came in handy too.

The monkey’s snarl faded as he focused instead on the treat in hand. Carter snapped his fingers again, and one cookie became two. The monkey made a cooing sound as he inched close enough to reach out and snatch the cookies from Carter. He shoved both into his mouth, chewed them up, and swallowed. His eyes glassed over with satisfaction.

Leila laughed. The creature wasn’t so scary after all. She approached the monkey, sneaking up from the other side as Carter snapped his fingers and revealed another cookie. He let the monkey snatch that one too. He revealed a fourth cookie. The monkey was so mesmerized by the sweet treats that he didn’t notice Leila until she grabbed the notebook and tossed it to her father, who tucked it inside the wide pocket of his robe. The monkey swung his head back and forth, conflicted. He looked from the book to Carter’s hand, full of cookies. Finally, the monkey caved to his instincts and settled for the cookies. (And who wouldn’t? Cookies are delicious.)

Carter dropped one cookie after another across the floor, leaving a path toward Mr Vernon, who was waiting with the magical, stiffened rope. Her father nodded for Leila to stay where she was, in case she needed to grab the furry little thing. Closer and closer it crept. Vernon was ready to collar the creature when...

A knock came at the door, and a voice called out, “Dante? Everything okay in there?” With a squeak and the sound of scrabbling claws, the monkey retreated into the shadows on the other side of the room.

The office door swung open, and in rushed the Other Mr Vernon, Leila’s poppa. He stood there with a worried look on his face, dressed in a white vest and black-and-white-checked pyjama bottoms. When he saw the state of the office, his sleepy eyes grew wide.

“Close the door, Poppa!” Leila cried. Before he could, a blur of blond fur raced past his ankles and into the hallway. Poppa let out a scream.

“After it!” shouted Mr Vernon.

Leila and Carter rushed past her dazed poppa and out into the hallway. They followed the racket that echoed from Leila’s room. To her horror, she realized that her bedroom door was open, and so was her window.

The trio reached her doorway just in time to see the monkey’s tail slip past the edge of her windowsill out into the night.

Leila sat on the comfortable sofa in the living room with Carter as Poppa heated milk on the stove in the kitchen. Her poppa, who her friends called the Other Mr Vernon, was the chef at the Grand Oak Resort. He was no magician, but he was a wizard at making late-night snacks. “Almost ready!” he called out.

Her dad, Mr Dante Vernon to most others, stood at the window in the parlour. As he spoke on the telephone, he looked outside at the dark street as if waiting for someone to come along looking for their missing monkey.

“Do you think Bosso is back?” Carter whispered with a shudder.

“I hope not,” Leila answered.

“I see. Yes, thank you again for taking my call so late at night,” Mr Vernon said, then hung up the phone and walked into the living room. “As far as the officials can tell me, Bosso is still locked up, far away from here, with the rest of his evil circus crew.”

“Except for his gang of frown clowns.” Carter shivered. “They got away.”

“And his monkey too, apparently,” Mr Vernon added. “As we’ve just seen, that wily creature is not easy to catch.”

“Why was he trying to steal your notebook, Dad?” asked Leila.

Mr Vernon removed the notebook from his pocket. It appeared to be one of the business ledgers from the magic shop downstairs – its cardboard cover had a marbled pattern. Leila knew her dad kept dozens of them behind the shop’s counter.

Vernon flipped the notebook open. Page after page, names and prices of items were listed in simple columns. “Now that, dear daughter, is a mystery. If I could get inside the heads of animals and decipher their thoughts, I’d be one of the most powerful practitioners of magic in this country.”

“Maybe he wasn’t trying to steal the notebook,” said Carter. “If he got left behind by the circus and hasn’t eaten in a few days, the monkey probably got lost looking for food. Poor thing is alone and confused and just needs a home.”

Mr Vernon smiled. “Anything is possible if you believe it so. In the meantime, we’ll need to sleep with the windows closed.”

“But won’t it get stuffy in here?” asked Leila.

Mr Vernon shrugged playfully. “We’ve all dealt with worse, no?”

The Other Mr Vernon came through the doorway holding a tray of treats: steaming mugs and a plate of chocolate chip cookies. “Milk and honey for my honeys! Drink up and then everyone back to bed.”

As Mr Vernon slid the parlor window shut, Leila thought she heard a cry in the night. Could it have been the mysterious monkey, angry at them for chasing him? Or had it merely been the old window, squeaking in its frame? At that moment, Leila wasn’t sure which she’d rather believe.

Instead, she sipped the creamy and sweet froth from the mug her poppa had handed to her, allowing it to calm the fluttering in her belly.

“Pick a card, any card!” Carter said, fanning out a deck.

Ridley Larsen raised an eyebrow and tilted her head with a withering stare. “Before we start sharing tricks, we should officially call Magic Misfits meeting number eleven to order.”

“If you say so, boss,” Carter said with a grin. He split the deck into five small packs, then spiralled them around one another in a single grand gesture before flipping his palms over and revealing empty hands. Sometimes, it seemed to Leila, Carter could have made even the gazebo in the town green vanish with little more than a flick of his wrist.

“Boss?” asked Izzy Golden. “I think of Ridley more as our queen.”

“Queen is too generic,” said Olly Golden. “Empress has a nice ring to it.”

“Your ears’ll ring when I give you a sock to ’em,” Izzy said, waving her fist in the air playfully at her twin.

“Rings and socks ? But I’m already fully dressed!” Olly noted.

Summer holidays had started, and Main Street was flooded with shoppers who were down from the resort and kids tasting the freedom of a school-free sunny afternoon. At almost every corner food vendors handed out samples of their wares: ice cream, chocolates, caramel corn, fruit-flavoured ice-slushes.

But the Magic Misfits had no sense of what was happening outdoors. With all six of them crowded into the secret room behind the rear bookcase in Vernon’s Magic Shop, they were practically bumping elbows in the dim light. None minded, though; they were practising what they loved most: magic.

Ridley reached inside Carter’s sleeve and removed the deck of cards he’d hidden there. “Hey! Not fair!” Carter cried out. “Stealing is not cool, Ridley.”

“Stealing?” Stone-faced, Ridley flipped through the cards and held them out to the group. The playing cards had somehow transformed into a handful of purple note cards – each marked with dots and dashes in black ink. “I brought these Morse code study cards from home. Your playing cards are right where you left them, Carter.”

Crinkling his brow, Carter raised his sleeve to find his deck of playing cards right where she’d said they’d be. Not only was Ridley an expert with transformations, she was also skilled at transforming the colour of people’s cheeks. In fact, Carter’s pale skin had instantly become a fierce pink.

“Nicely done!” said Theo Stein-Meyer.

“Thank you,” Ridley said. “Would you mind passing these out?”

Theo guided his bow over the study cards and, one by one, they floated to the members of the Misfits. Theo’s levitation ability was one of his most closely guarded secrets. When he finished, he slipped his magic bow back inside the leg of his tuxedo pants.

“I hope everyone has been studying this week,” Ridley went on. “The sooner we learn this Morse code stuff, the better we’ll be prepared to communicate secretly.”

“Oh, Ridley,” said Leila, “I don’t think we need to worry about another situation like the one with Bosso.”

“And yet only a few nights ago, his pet monkey tried to break into Mr Vernon’s office to steal one of his ledgers.” Ridley squinted at them. “Are you sure you’re not just inventing excuses to get out of doing your club homework?”

“I thought summer was supposed to be homework-free,” said Izzy.

“No, no, Izzy,” said Olly. “You’re thinking of sugar-free!”

“But we love sugar!” said Izzy. “Mum and Dad hate it, though. Strange, because I always feel funnier after I eat sweets.”

Leila smiled from the back corner of the far wall. She used to hate small spaces, but now she didn’t mind them so much. Blocked by Ridley’s wheelchair, she mentally worked out a path through her friends that would allow her to escape the crowded room in less than five seconds. She was always solving puzzles in her head, as if she might one day use them on a stage.

“Leila, would you like to go first?” Ridley asked.

Leila glanced at her note card. The code read:

Leila figured out the translation in her head. “If you work together… ”

Carter read his secret message. “And stay true to one another… ”

Theo went next. “Nothing will bar you. ”

Then Ridley: “Alone you are weak. ”

Followed by Olly and then Izzy: “Together… you are… ” They struggled over the final word until Izzy finished, “Together you are… strange ?”

“Almost,” said Ridley, raising an eyebrow. “Together you are strong.”

“Nice,” Carter said to Ridley. “It’s the message from the psychic at the carnival. I’m happy you remembered it!”

Just outside their secret headquarters, Mr Vernon finished dealing with his customers. After they left, Mr Vernon knocked on the wall and called out, “You do realize it’s a beautifully perfect day outside. Some people believe it’s a crime to be indoors on a day like this!”

Leila perked up. The escape route she’d been scheming suddenly came into sharp focus. She ducked down, shimmied beneath the chair Theo was perched upon, then popped up, leaping over Ridley’s wheelchair and rebounding off the wall behind Carter before turning sideways, taking a deep breath, and squeezing between Olly and Izzy. She slid open the secret door and caught Vernon’s eye. “And would you consider yourself to be one of those people, Dad?”

“Of course not, my dear.” Mr Vernon winked and then rubbed at his eye as if a speck of dust had suddenly gotten stuck. “I was only commenting on the crime rate in this country. Practically soaring.”

“Practically soaring! ” echoed Presto, the store’s prized green parrot. The beautiful bird held court from her perch near the store’s entrance. Mr Vernon cooed at her, holding up his hand for the parrot to nuzzle briefly. He whispered something into her ear, then climbed the spiral stairs to the store’s balcony.

“Waaaaak! ” Presto answered with a curious blink and a nod before going strangely silent.

“Leila, I know your magic-club meeting has begun, but would you and Carter please keep an eye on the store for a moment?” asked Mr Vernon. “I think my bottle of vanishing ink has actually vanished.”

“Of course it did.” Leila giggled. “And of course we will!” She turned to Carter, Theo, Ridley, Olly, and Izzy and then waved them out of the secret room.

“Boooo,” said Ridley, rolling her chair into the store. “I like it better when our meetings are in there. In the dark. It’s more magical.”

“More magical than when we are in an actual magic shop?” asked Theo. Olly and Izzy grabbed hands and twirled into the space, then pretended to be dizzy and fell down. Leila slid the bookcase door shut as Theo held his magic violin bow over Ridley’s head. Her notebook levitated out of her lap and floated just beyond her reach.

“Give that back!” Ridley snarled, grabbing Theo by his tuxedo tail.

“Easy, tiger,” Carter said, snatching the notebook from the air and returning it to Ridley. “Play nice.”

Ridley thumped Theo’s bow tie, changing it from a solid black into a garish mustard plaid. Theo flinched as he glanced at himself in the giant mirror nearby, then adjusted the lapels of his tuxedo jacket. He always looked like he was on his way to a grand party. “I suppose I can make these colours work too,” he said to himself, then winked at Ridley. She winked back.

“Since we’ve got our homework out of the way,” said Leila, “let’s start the actual meeting.”

“Hey! That’s my line!” Ridley quipped. “Let us bring this meeting of the Magic Misfits to order,” she said, elevating her voice to sound like the mayor during a celebratory speech out on the town green.

“Hear, hear!” said Theo.

“You forgot to do roll call,” said Carter.

“Fine!” Ridley groaned. “We’ll continue with roll call.” She read out everyone’s names, and they all raised their hands. She spent the next few seconds writing down everything she’d just said in her notebook.

“Let me do that,” said Carter.

Ridley reluctantly handed over the notebook and pen. “Who has a club announcement?” she asked.

“Well, we already told you guys about the monkey break-in,” said Leila. “That’s all my big news.”

Ridley barreled onward. “Anything else we should note?” When the group said nothing, she said, “The Magic Misfits keep no secrets. Remember?”

“I’m totally secret-free,” said Carter.

Leila thought of her tin filled with keys upstairs, the one no one knew about except for her. “Nope,” she said. “No secrets here.”

“I think some secrets are worth keeping,” said Theo, his voice cool and collected. “I certainly do not intend to give my tricks away within the near future.”

Before Ridley could scold her friend, the door to the shop opened, and the little bell rang.

Leila leaned around the end of the aisle and saw a couple standing there. The man and woman looked like a pair of tourists down from the Grand Oak Resort. Since Mr Vernon was still upstairs, searching for his vanishing ink, Leila raced over and said, “Welcome to Vernon’s Magic Shop, where we purvey the impossible. Can I help you find anything?” With a wink, she added, “Or perhaps help you make something disappear?”

Presto rustled her feathers from her perch. “Shall Houdini confess next, I can find a dozen flying, fake deer! ” she screeched. “Shall Houdini confess next, I can find a dozen flying, fake deer!”

“Don’t mind our bird.” Leila smiled at the customers, who looked indifferent. The parrot’s mishmash of words reminded Leila of poetry – well, really weird poetry. This wasn’t the first time Presto had spouted out such strange things.

Carter appeared next to the customers. “Feel free to look around.”

Leila couldn’t help but feel happy that Carter was fitting in so quickly. The couple walked with caution toward a table displaying glass eyeballs stuffed in huge jars, vials of green slime, and quartz crystals.

“Why on earth does Presto continue to speak like this?” Theo asked, joining the others at the counter. He craned his long neck back, trying to make eye contact with the parrot, then held up his hand. This usually worked with the doves he kept in his backyard, but Presto had been trained differently.

“Maybe she’s practising for Shakespeare in the Park,” Ridley said.

“That’d be neat,” said Leila. She patted her shoulder. “Presto! Come!”

Presto only shouted out again: “Shall Houdini confess next, I can find a dozen flying, fake deer! ”

The shopping couple whispered something to each other, then glared at Presto. They headed to the door with a quiet “Thank you.” The bell clanged, and then they were gone. Leila’s face burned; she felt disappointed that she hadn’t been able to charm them into staying longer.

“That bird is crazy,” said Ridley. “Not like my rabbit. Where is my Top Hat?”

Carter chuckled. “One day, one of us will pull out an actual top hat and say, Here it is! ”

“Har-har,” Ridley scowled. “Not funny, newbie. Don’t make me kick you out of the club so soon.”

“It was only a joke,” Theo whispered, slipping the rabbit onto Ridley’s lap.

Ridley wasn’t having it. “If we’re going to make jokes during Magic Misfits meetings, they’ve got to be much funnier. And Presto has to learn to keep her beak shut.” Theo raised a chiding eyebrow. “Oh, come on,” Ridley added. “You know I love all of—”

PING! As if from nowhere, a large coin fell out of the air. It bounced twice on the table, rolled on its side in a circle, and fell over.

“Dad, did you do that?” Leila called upstairs, but Mr Vernon was nowhere to be seen.

Ridley picked up the coin and surveyed it. Theo and the others peered over her shoulders.

“It’s letters A through to Z,” Olly noted.

“And then back again,” Izzy added, “z through to a.”

“It’s a cipher,” Ridley whispered.

“A what?” Carter asked.

“A code, a secret way of writing,” Ridley answered. “See, if I wrote CAT using this cipher, it would become XZG. And DOG would become WLT.”

“Awesome,” Leila said.

A shadow appeared outside the window of the shop. “More customers,” Carter said. Wanting to keep their discovery secret, Ridley dropped the coin into the secret compartment of her wheelchair arm.

The bell chimed as the front door opened again. Leila’s heart soared as she imagined that the couple had changed their minds and returned. But a new voice called out instead. “Hello? Is anyone here?”

Who was at the shop door? Well, I’d rather not say. You can skip to the next chapter to find out, or you could stay and learn some magic of your own!

Oh, you decided to stay? It really is wonderful to see you again. I adore working with committed students. Have you been practising the tricks I showed you in the first book? If so, by the end of The Second Story, you might have enough tricks to put on an entire show.

WHAT YOU NEED:

A regular deck of playing cards

HELPFUL HINT (WHERE TO STAND):

For this illusion, you’ll want to position yourself close to your audience so that they are looking down at the cards in your hands.

STEPS:

1. Holding the deck in one hand, use your other hand to show your audience a random card. Ask them to tell you what card it is.

2. While they are telling you about the card, slide your pinky finger between the top card and the rest of the deck so there is a small gap.

3. Place the first card faceup onto the deck, aligning it with the raised card. You should now be holding two cards slightly above the rest of the deck.

4. Using the middle finger and thumb of your free hand, grab the corners of the top two cards and move them away from the deck, holding them so that they bend a bit.

(Hint: Both cards should align so that it looks like you’re holding only that first top card.)

5. Move your hand back and forth, so the image on the card begins to blur for the audience. Show the audience your card. Have one of them call out what it is. Now, move your hand back and forth.

6. While shaking the cards, use your pointer finger to reach for the far corner of the cards and then pull that corner toward you so the two cards flip.

(Hint: Your middle finger and thumb will be the points where the cards rotate.)

7. Slowly stop shaking the cards and reveal that the card has changed.

8. Take a bow!

A woman stood by the counter.

“Sorry!” Leila said breathlessly to the stranger. She spouted her usual spiel: “Welcome to Vernon’s Magic Shop, where we purvey the impossible ! Can I help you find anything?”

“Hello,” said the woman. “I sure hope you can.” She was medium height with dusky golden skin and wavy dark hair that cascaded like waterfall mist past her shoulders. Deep brown eyes stared into Leila’s own.

Leila was captivated. Her fingers trembled. Her mouth went dry. She blinked as if her brain could take a picture. The woman’s lashes were long and thick, blackened heavily with mascara. Lips as red as gems were pursed in a tiny blossom below her long nose. She wore a long purple shawl covered in yellow fringe draped over her shoulders, with a gauzy lilac scarf tied around her waist. The image of a crystal ball was embroidered on her large purse. Most spectacular of all were the enormous white stars hanging from her ears. She looked like she belonged there, like a prop in the magic shop’s window.

“We have everything a magician might need,” Leila said, her voice cracking.

“I’m looking for someone,” said the woman, her eyes flicking around the store. “A very old friend of mine. His name is Dante. Dante Vernon. His last name’s on the door.”

“That’s because he owns this place,” said Carter, stepping forward. “He’s my cousin, and he’s Leila’s—”

“Hold on,” Ridley said abruptly, wheeling past Carter and Leila to block the woman’s path. “Before we share anything else, maybe you can tell us who you are first? We’ve had some trouble around here lately.”

“Trouble?” the woman remarked with wide eyes, clutching her shawl to her chest. “How horrible!”

“My friends here can sometimes be too trusting,” said Ridley. “But I’m not. What do you want with Mr Vernon?”

“Sandra?” Mr Vernon called out from the balcony. He clutched the railing and peered down at them. “Sandra Santos? Is that you?”

“Dante!” exclaimed the woman named Sandra.

Sandra Santos. Leila was expecting that the woman’s name would be one she’d heard before, but it wasn’t.

Sandra held up her arms to Vernon as if for a hug. Since Ridley was still in Sandra’s way, she simply stood inside the door, looking like someone witnessing a miracle, as Vernon rushed down the spiral staircase.

“For a moment, I thought I was looking at a ghost,” he said. “It’s been how long? Decades! What are you doing here?” He squeezed past the speechless assembly of Misfits and, looking baffled, stood before the woman. Finally – almost reluctantly – he hugged her.

Sandra smiled, squeezing him back. “Oh, I was in town and thought I’d say hello.”

“Shall Houdini confess next, I can find a dozen flying, fake deer! ” said Presto again from her perch. All of the Misfits stiffened and groaned.

Vernon smiled at the animal. “Yes. Yes, we know. Aren’t you a fantastical bird?” Presto ruffled her feathers and then closed her eyes. Finally. Vernon placed his palm on Leila’s head. “This is my daughter. Leila.”

“Hello,” Leila said, shaking Sandra’s warm hand.

Sandra squeezed gently. “Nice to meet you.”

Then Vernon touched Carter’s shoulder and brought him forward. “And this handsome lad is my cousin, Carter Locke.”

“Locke?” Sandra asked. “As in…?”

“Lyle’s boy,” said Vernon. “He’s living with us now. Our family has grown by leaps and bounds.” Carter stared at Sandra in wonder. He must’ve been fascinated that she knew his father, Leila thought. “Here is Theo Stein-Meyer and Ridley Larsen. And the sharply-dressed duo in the rear are the Golden twins, Olly and Izzy. Good friends, one and all.”

“You knew Carter’s dad?” Leila asked.

“Yes, I did,” said Sandra. “He was like a brother to me.”

“A brother ?” Vernon asked with a wry grin. “I’d use a different word for how you two were.”

Sandra chortled. “Oh, Dante! You haven’t changed. Always looking for meaning where there is none!”

“But meaning is everywhere!” Vernon insisted, taking her hands. “I’ve simply trained myself to look for it harder than most.”

Leila bolted around the end of the counter and grabbed a picture frame off the wall. Her friends stared at her as if she’d gone crazy. But she didn’t care. She held out the frame to Sandra. “This is you,” she said, pointing at the girl in the lower right of the sepia photograph. “Isn’t it?” The girl was sitting with Dante, Lyle, Bobby, and the other members of the Emerald Ring – her father’s childhood magical club – the group that had inspired Leila and her friends to form the Magic Misfits. The girl in the photo was holding a crystal ball. It looked just like the crystal ball embroidered on Sandra’s burgundy velvet purse.

Sandra’s mouth popped open when she saw the picture. “Oh my goodness! You’ve kept it all this time, Dante?”

“Of course. I had nothing else to remember you all by. My best friends.” Was there a tinge of emotion in his voice? Wistfuness? Somberness? “There’s nothing like being part of a club.”

“So then, you were also a member of the Emerald Ring?” Theo asked, craning his head forward, seemingly trying to recognize the young girl in the photo inside the older woman standing before them.

“I was indeed.” Sandra nodded, handing the photo back to Leila. “I have fond memories of playing in this old building. The fondest of my childhood.”

“What was Mr Vernon like back then?” Ridley asked. “Was he as weird as he is now?”

“Weird? ” Vernon echoed, shooting Ridley a funny look.

“You are pretty weird, Mr Vernon,” she insisted. “But that’s what I like about you.”

“Back then, Dante was as weird as weird can be,” said Sandra. “And secretive. So were we all. And we were proud of it.”

Vernon nodded. “That is true, I suppose.”

“What can you tell us about Bobby Bosso?” Theo questioned. “He arrived in Mineral Wells recently, and he was not exactly the nicest—”

Vernon cleared his throat and reached out to shut the shop’s door. “How about we continue this conversation over some iced tea. We have plenty of shortbread cookies to dispose of.”

“That sounds lovely,” said Sandra.

“Carter? Theo? Would you mind bringing up the folding table from the basement? Use the service elevator. We’ll picnic here in the shop,” Mr Vernon said as he traversed the spiral stairs back up to the balcony and the apartment. “Leila and Ridley, please keep Sandra company.” He pointed at the woman and winked. “And Sandra, you stay right there!”

“Oh, Dante,” she said, giggling, “unlike some members of our old club, I never learned the art of vanishing.”

While Mr Vernon prepared refreshments in the apartment, Sandra sat with the Magic Misfits at the small folding table in the back of the shop.

“… and then,” Leila continued, telling the story of the diamond heist at the Grand Oak Resort, “one of Bosso’s goons clobbered my dad over the head! My friends and I knew we had to save him.”

Sandra listened in awe to the rest of the tale, as if she couldn’t believe that two of her childhood friends would become embroiled in such a bitter clash. Finally, she admitted, “Bobby was always a little… difficult.”

“Difficult is an interesting way to describe him,” said Ridley.

“Totally bonkers is another way,” Carter answered.

Theo shook his head in disgust. “Criminal is the best way.”

“He was more crooked than corkscrew pasta!” said Olly.

“You mean fusilli,” Izzy said.

“Gesundheit! ” Olly replied. “Speaking of, how does a diamond thief celebrate the Fourth of July?”

“With sparklers!” Izzy answered, with a silly hyuk-hyuk laugh.

Mr Vernon descended the stairs. He was holding a tray with a pitcher of iced tea, several glasses, and a plate of those shortbread cookies Carter loved to hoard. “Gossiping about me again, kids?”

Carter laughed. “Not you. We were talking about Bosso!”

“In that case, I’d better step up my game! It’s always a trick to be on the tips of everyone’s tongues.” Mr Vernon set the tray on the table, adding, “Everyone, help yourselves.”

Sandra poured the tea. “Thank you, Dante. You always were the epitome of politeness.”

“So, Sandra,” Mr Vernon went on, sitting on the arm of the chair where Leila was perched, “what brings you back to Mineral Wells after all these years?”

“Some sad news, actually,” said Sandra, glancing at the kids as if maybe they couldn’t handle it. She decided quickly that they could. “My mother passed away.”

“I remember hearing that some time ago.”

“Yes, it’s been several years,” Sandra went on. “I had a hard time thinking about returning. Too many… ghosts from the past. But Mother left me the old house. You should see the state of it. A total wreck. Boxes everywhere. Layers of dust, inches thick. And quite a few unwanted residents: spiders and flies and mice and snakes. So much work to do. Still, the old house holds a few dear memories – especially those of an old friend who happens to live in the same town. I do apologize for taking so long to visit, but my career has kept me traveling constantly, and I’ve only recently managed to take the time to settle things here.”

“Why do you travel so much?” asked Carter between slurps of iced tea. “Your job, I mean. What do you do?”

“Aha. Well, it just so happens that I’m a stage psychic. I perform in front of huge audiences all around the country.” The Misfits went silent, holding their breath. They stared at Sandra as if she’d just told them that she was the first woman to walk on the moon. “Maybe you’ve heard of me? I go by the name Madame Esmeralda.”

“The Madame Esmeralda?” Theo asked. “I thought you looked familiar. Your posters are in some of the theatres where my father conducts his symphony.”

“I’ve never met a famous person before,” said Carter.

“Famous?” Sandra laughed. “I suppose I am – though only a little bit. It’s a fun job. I get to meet lots of people and see the best sights.”

“I always thought psychic people were a myth,” said Ridley, her brows furrowed. “Are you really psychic, or do you just pretend to be?”

“Ridley!” Leila whispered through her teeth. “That’s not nice!”

“It’s okay, Leila,” said Sandra. “It’s a question that everyone wonders. At least your friend is honest enough to ask. But yes, I read vibrational energies of people, places, and things, and I perceive information about past, present, or even future events.”

“But how ?” Ridley pressed. “Do you use tarot cards? Numerology? Astrology? Palmistry?” The other Misfits looked at Ridley as if she was spouting nonsense. She scowled, “What? When I was researching John Nevil Maskelyne, I spent time looking at some of Mr Vernon’s books about mindreading here at the shop. There are so many types of psychics: precognitors, who claim to predict the future; telepaths will read your mind; telekinesists move matter with their brains. All quite different. Though most of them are fraudulent.”

Sandra didn’t bat an eye. Instead, she sipped her tea politely.

“How do you identify yourself ?” Ridley asked.

“I’m what some would call a clairvoyant,” said Sandra.

“What’s that?” asked Carter.

“It means that I receive little messages about people, and then I let those people know what they need to know.”

Leila flinched. “Little messages? From who?”

“Most clairvoyants would say the messages come directly from a spirit guide,” said Sandra. “The spirit guide whispers secrets in our ears, and we share that information with people who need help.”

“So you talk to ghosts?” Ridley insisted. “Are the ghostly messages real?”

Sandra pursed her lips mysteriously.

Mr Vernon grabbed the handkerchief from the breast pocket of his jacket and used it to dab the corners of his mouth. Then he went to shove the kerchief back into the pocket, but another one had already popped up to take its place. Mr Vernon pulled that one from the pocket too. And another kerchief appeared. He yanked five more kerchiefs from his jacket, dropping them all into his lap with a baffled look. The kids laughed. “The proof is in the pudding,” Mr Vernon said finally.

“What’s that mean?” Ridley asked.

“If it looks like pudding and tastes like pudding, it’s likely to be pudding?” Mr Vernon didn’t seem sure.

“That is not what it means,” Theo said. “The adage means you have to try out a new thing for yourself to know whether you like it or not.”

“That’s not how I understood it,” Carter said. “I thought it meant you could only declare something a success after it has been tried out.”

“I thought it meant ‘Trust me, the pudding is good,’” Leila said.

“Oh, all pudding is good,” said Olly. “Especially chocolate and butterscotch. Yum!”

“But only after Mum removes the gross, leathery skin that forms on top,” added Izzy. “Or else Olly won’t touch it.”

Mr Vernon laughed. “I guess old sayings are just like magic. It’s all in the interpretations. People take what they want from it.” He scooped up the extra kerchiefs from his lap and bunched them into one fist. With his other hand, he tugged the edge of one until it flopped loosely between his fingers. Then, with a dramatic flourish, he whipped a single kerchief from his fist and held it up. All the other kerchiefs were gone. The Misfits gasped and then chuckled. “Psychics are like magicians, Ridley. It often doesn’t matter whether or not the magician is pretending. What matters is what the audience believes.”

Ridley turned back to Sandra. “So then, to be psychic, you just have to make people believe that you are?”

Sandra’s eyes twinkled. Leila recognized a glimmer of her dad’s own mischief. No wonder they’d been close friends once upon a time. “Something like that,” Sandra answered. With a wry grin, she added, “How do you know I’m not actually psychic, Dante?”

“Are you?” he asked.

She lowered her voice to a spooky cosmic tone and said, “I’ve learned much since we were young. ” She raised her hands and wiggled her fingers and moaned, like a ghost, “Ooo-ooo-ooh! ”

The others chuckled. “Where are you staying while in Mineral Wells?” Leila asked. “Not in that old, run-down house?”

“Well, I don’t have another option, honey. Not unless Dante is offering.” She flashed him a hopeful glance.

Mr Vernon flushed. “I wish we could, I really do—”

Leila couldn’t keep her mouth shut. “Dad!” It was unlike him to deny someone help, especially an old friend.

Ignoring her outburst, Mr Vernon went on. “But we no longer have a guest room, and I couldn’t possibly recommend that you bunk on our lumpy couch upstairs. You’d have absolutely no privacy.” He shook his head. “Tell you what, Sandra… I’ll call my partner up at the Grand Oak Resort and see if he can’t arrange for a most extravagant room… just until you’ve made your mother’s place more habitable.”

Sandra couldn’t hide her disappointment. “I’d be most appreciative.”

“Brilliant!” said Mr Vernon, standing and heading over to the phone. “We’ll set you up at the resort. Then, this evening, you’ll come back and have dinner with all of us.”

“Us too?” asked Theo.

“I’m intrigued to hear more about Sandra’s skills,” said Ridley, raising an eyebrow.

“Alas! I shan’t make it,” Olly said dramatically.

“Yeah, we can’t stay,” Izzy whined. “It’s a Golden family dinner night.”

Ridley pressed the issue. “But the rest of us—”

“Okay, okay.” Mr Vernon chuckled. “Olly and Izzy, you’ll be sorely missed. But I’ll be sure to ask the Other Mr Vernon to bring home extra food for everyone else. It’ll be a welcome-home party for Sandra.”

“I couldn’t ask for anything more,” Sandra said. “My goodness, how I’ve missed you, Dante. Thank you so much.”

Listening closely, Leila could sense a kind of defeat in Sandra’s voice. For a moment, Leila wondered if she had psychic powers of her own.

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