Read Online Mystics #1: The Seventh Sense by Kim Richardson - Free Book Online Page B

to your computer. Your username is your first and
last name without a space.”
    Zoey sat down in front of her computer. Her cheeks burned, and she
knew she was probably as red as her hair. In the corner of her eye, she could
see a blond boy on her left trying to get her attention, but she ignored him.
She needed to concentrate and prove to Agent Ward and everyone else that she
belonged.
    Breathing in, she logged on. She had to type her name three times
for it to work. Her fingers trembled, but finally the screen flashed and writing
appeared on a blue background. She read:
    Mystics Theoretical, Group
1 – Division 416

    She pressed enter. A window opened, and the following folders
appeared.

    A Mystic way of life: Philosophy
behind the Mystics
    Management rules and
regulations
    The Mystic Manual, Ranks 1 - 12
    Mystic Treaty

    “Let’s continue. We were identifying rank two mystics and groups
before we were interrupted,” Agent Ward said. “Leah, please name me the first ten
mystics from that rank.”
    A girl of about sixteen with a long brown ponytail stood up. “Adaro, álfar , bathin , caliban , cyclops , dain , duineach , hobgoblin, goblin, and griffin.”
    “And which group do they belong to?” asked Agent Ward.
    “The ally group, except for the hobgoblins and goblins, which are in
the hostile group,” answered the girl.
    “Good. I expect everyone to know the first one hundred by heart, by
the end of the month.” She stared at Zoey for a moment. “Everyone open your
Mystic Manual, rank two folder, and go to page thirty-five.”
    Zoey had no idea there were so many monsters— mystics , she reminded herself. There were several hundred, just in
the second rank folder. Every mystic had its own file, like a police record,
with a photo, a description of what it looked like, and a brief history of the
creature. Half of the mystics in this folder had the word ‘hostile’ written in
bold red letters. Not all the mystics were friendly—she knew this—and she would
have to learn to distinguish friend from foe very quickly.
    After three full hours of studying, Zoey’s eyes hurt from looking at
the screen. She was grateful when Agent Ward announced it was time for lunch.
    When she stood up, she caught the boy Stuart glowering at her again.
She wondered if he ever used another face. He was joined by three other boys
and two girls, all of whom gave her evil you-don’t-belong-here looks. They were the same looks she used to get from the kids back at her
old high school. Foster kids were troublemakers—so everyone used to say—she’d
been labeled a freak from early on. The agency seemed to have the same kind of
cliques.
    She noticed that some of the other students wore the same ruby rings
on their fingers. It meant something, and she was going to find out what.
    “Ignore them,” said Tristan as he challenged Stuart with a dark
look. “He thinks because his last name is King that he can boss everyone around
like he’s royalty or something.”
    Zoey watched Stuart put his hand on one of the other boys’ shoulders
and whisper something.
    “What’s up with those rings? The ones they’re wearing with the red
circle.”
    Tristan followed her gaze. “They say it’s a symbol of the Originals,
those who wear them think they’re like their descendants.”
    “And what exactly are the Originals ?”
asked Zoey.
    “The original Sevenths,” answered Tristan. “The first people like you
and me—people with our abilities that existed in this world centuries ago.”
    Somehow Zoey didn’t want King Stuart to have such a significant part
in the Sevenths’ ancestry. It gave him airs that he didn’t have any proper
claim to.
    “So, Stuart and them are really descendants of these Originals? Well, that’s too bad, I was hoping to steal his
ring and feed it to him later,” she said.
    Tristan laughed softly. “The truth is it’s a bunch of made up
stories if you ask me. No one can really tell who the real descendants