The Orb of Kandra

Just then, Oliver saw the dials on his compass were moving. One pointed to the symbol of an elm leaf. The second pointed to a symbol that resembled a bird. The third remained on the image of a graduation cap.

Oliver’s eyes widened with surprise.

He pointed to the elm leaf. “Boston.” Then to the bird. “Nightingale.” And finally to the cap. “Professor.” He felt a huge surge of excitement in his chest. “You’re right. I have to go to Boston. Meet Professor Nightingale. He has the next clue.”

Ms. Belfry quickly scribbled something into her notebook and then tore the page out. “Here. This is where he lives.”

Oliver took the paper and looked down at the Boston address. Was this the next piece of the puzzle in his quest? Was Professor Nightingale another seer?

He folded the paper carefully and placed it in his pocket, suddenly eager to begin his journey. He jumped up.

“Wait,” Ms. Belfry said. “Oliver. The book.” Professor Nightingale’s time travel book was lying on her desk. “Take it,” she added. “I want you to have it.”

“Thank you,” Oliver said, feeling touched and grateful. Ms. Belfry really was the best non-seer teacher he’d ever had.

He picked up the book and headed to the door. But when he reached it, he heard Ms. Belfry call out.

“Will you ever come back?”

He paused and looked at her. “I don’t know.”

She gave him a sad nod. “Well, if this is goodbye, then all that’s left to say is good luck. I hope you find what you’re looking for, Oliver Blue.”

Oliver felt a deep sense of gratitude in his heart. Without Ms. Belfry, he’d probably not have survived those miserable first few days in New Jersey. “Thank you, Ms. Belfry. Thank you for everything.”

Oliver ran out of the classroom, eager to get the first train to Boston to meet Professor Nightingale. But if he was leaving New Jersey forever there was one thing he needed to do first.

The bullies.

It was lunchtime.

And he had one more wrong to right in the world.

*

He hurried down the steps, the smell of greasy fries wafting up from the lunch room. He and Ms. Belfry had been speaking so long, it was now lunchtime.

Perfect, Oliver thought.

He headed to the lunchroom. It was full of students and extremely noisy. He saw Paul and Samantha, his tormentors from science class. They looked over at him and started pointing and whispering. Other kids turned too, all laughing at Oliver. He saw the kids who threw balls at him in the playground. The kids from Mr. Portendorfer’s class who reveled in the grouchy old teacher’s insistence on calling him Oscar.

Oliver scanned with his eyes until he found his target: Chris and his friends. These were the kids who’d hounded him during the storm. Who’d chased him into a garbage can. Who’d called him a freak and a weirdo and all number of horrible names.

They noticed him, too. The mean girl who wore her hair in severe braids started to smile. She nudged the lanky, freckled boy who’d watched with glee as Chris had Oliver in a headlock. As far as they knew, yesterday they’d chased Oliver through a storm, forcing him to hide in a trash can. Seeing them grin at him made him grit his teeth with a sudden wave of anger.

Chris looked up, too. Any hint of the fear he’d shown toward Oliver back in their living room had disappeared, now that he was surrounded by his bully friends.

Even from across the lunchroom, Oliver could lipread Chris’s words as he said to his friends, “Oh look, it’s the drowned rat.”

Oliver focused all his attention on their table. Then he tapped into his seer powers.

Their trays began to float up off the table. The girl jumped back in her seat, completely terrified.

“What’s going on?”

The freckled boy and the chubby boy leapt up too, looking just as fearful, making scared noises. Chris jumped out of his chair. But he didn’t look scared. He looked furious.

All around the table, other students started to turn to see what the commotion was about. When they saw the trays rising into the air as if by magic, they all began to panic.

Oliver moved the trays higher and higher and higher. Then, when they were about head height, he tipped them.

Their contents came raining down on top of the bullies’ heads.

See how you like to be covered in garbage, Oliver thought.

The lunch hall erupted into pandemonium. Kids started screaming, running all over the place, shoving each other in their haste to get to the exit. One of Oliver’s tormentors—covered head to toe in mashed potato—slipped in the beans that had been spilled. He skidded to the floor, tripping another as they ran.

Through the chaos, Oliver saw Chris standing at the other end of the hall, his narrowed eyes locked on Oliver. His face turned red with anger. He puffed out his huge bulking frame to make himself look more threatening.

But Oliver did not feel threatened at all. Not even slightly.

“You!” Chris bellowed. “I know it’s you! I always have! You have weird powers, don’t you? You’re a freak!”

He barreled toward Oliver.

But Oliver was already two steps ahead. He pushed outward with his powers, covering the floor beneath Chris’s feet with thick, slippery oil. Chris started to wobble, then stagger, then slide. He couldn’t keep his balance and fell flat on his butt. He slid across the floor, careening toward Oliver as if he were on a water slide.

Oliver pushed open the exit door. Chris slid straight past him and straight through it, screaming the whole way. He slid into the courtyard then onward, riding Oliver’s invisible slide of oil, until he disappeared into the distance.

“Bye!” Oliver called, waving.

Hopefully, that would be the last he’d ever see of Christopher Blue.

He slammed the doors shut and turned on his heel.

Head held high, Oliver picked his way through the messy lunch hall and strolled confidently through the corridors of Campbell Junior High. He’d never felt better. Nothing could top this feeling.

When he reached the exit, he pushed the double main doors open with both hands. A gust of clean, cold air hit him. He took a deep breath in, feeling rejuvenated.

And that’s when he saw her.

Standing at the bottom of the steps looking up, stood a solitary figure. Black hair. Emerald green eyes.

Oliver couldn’t believe it. His heart leapt, suddenly beating a mile a minute in his chest. His brain began to spin as it desperately tried to work out how… why…

His palms became clammy. His throat turned dry. A shiver of excitement ran up his spine.

Because standing there before him was a vision of beauty.