Wood Sprites

Louise backed up until she was pressed against the printer, stunned and dismayed. What could she say? The magic generator was just the tip of the iceberg. Alone, it would probably seem harmless. The danger to their plans was anyone digging deeper into their activities. The scope of their plans would probably stay unfathomable even with the generator’s discovery, but it would mean that they were watched closer and every action questioned.

“I took it out already.” She pointed a trembling finger at the fake.

“I don’t know what the hell you were trying to make, but this isn’t a holographic projector like—” He started to reach for decoy generator.

There was a sudden loud roar, and the world shuddered. The fake toppled from the table. Louise squeaked in surprise, reaching out to catch it and then jerking her hands back as she realized that she wanted it to fall, wanted it to break. Her heart leapt and jerked as Mr. Kessler nearly caught it. It tumbled in his fingertips and crashed to the floor, smashing into dozens of pieces.

“Oh no!” Louise cried as she was filled with the sense that something horrible had just happened. “What was that?”

All the lights flickered and then went out, leaving them in the dim morning light. Outside, a dozen car alarms wailed and smoke billowed up from somewhere below. Mr. Kessler froze in place, staring at all the broken plastic littering the floor.

She hurried to the window and looked out.

Twelve stories down, people were littered on the ground like a collection of dolls ravaged by the neighbor’s dog. The twisted wreckage of a large box truck sat burning. An explosion had gutted the building across the street, revealing an interior twisted beyond recognition as the façade tore away. Paper drifted like autumn leaves in the black oily smoke.

Mr. Kessler joined her at the window, mouth working but nothing coming out. Finally he managed to force out. “No. No. This is wrong. What could have happened?”

“Warning,” Tesla said in his little Welsh schoolboy voice. “A bomb has been detonated within the city block where I’m currently located. Warning: a ten-alarm fire has been reported within the city block where I’m currently located. Warning: a 911 call reporting multiple injuries has been made from the building where I’m currently located. Initiating emergency response.”

Louise had no clue to what “emergency response” might be, but it didn’t sound good. Tesla probably could drag her out of the building and back home. Most likely, though, it would be safer to stay in the Annex. . She squeaked as she remembered what she’d been in the middle of. Oh no, the magic generator was still in the 3D printer!

Tesla padded out from behind the art table and scanned the room until he spotted her. “Primary target found.”

She pointed at him and in her most level tone commanded. “Cancel emergency response.”

Tesla tilted his head. “Primary target appears unharmed. Cancelling emergency response.”

Louise glanced at Mr. Kessler. The man was rubbing his face as he gazed down in horror at the street below. He was safely beyond sane action.

She hurried to the printer and fumbled with the locks. She glanced toward Mr. Kessler to make sure he was still at the window; his hands had crept up to grip his hair. She jerked open the printer.

She had expected the magic generator and the fake one to look like a diamond and a cut-glass gem, with only an expert able to tell the difference at a glance. The fake had been the same size, shape, and general color, but now, having seen the real one, she knew that the fake wouldn’t have been mistaken for the real one. It was more like sterling silverware and plastic. The fake had looked like five dollars of melted plastic. The magic generator gleamed with perfection.

Gritting her teeth, Louise eased the generator out and gingerly placed it in Tesla’s storage. She shut the lid and redid the locks hidden by his fur.

Downstairs there was an odd sound, growing louder. As she listened, she realized it was children shouting and screaming.

The PA clicked on and Principal Wiley said, “All students are to report to their homeroom immediately. Teachers are to take attendance and report all absences. No one is to leave the building. I repeat. No one is to leave the building. All students are to report to their homeroom so attendance can be taken.”

He said nothing about injuries. Who had called 911? Who had been hurt? It was still another ten minutes until the homeroom bell. Anyone could have been out on the street when the blast went off.

Jillian ran into the room. “Lou! Lou!”

Louise reached out and gripped her twin’s hand tightly. “I’m okay.”

Miss Gray came into the room. “Louise. Jillian. You need to report to your homeroom.” Her voice quavered; a frightening thing to hear in an adult. Then again, Miss Gray hadn’t been “an adult” for very long. At the moment, she looked no older than some of the senior students. “Mr. Kessler? Kevin?”