Like everything that was Andy’s, his Amplifier reflected his personality. Mine resembled a slim midnight blue fountain pen with silver bands and a really cool cap, crystal with a white rose embedded inside. However, Andy’s was a miniature light saber, burnished gold with intricate symbols and precious stones along the barrel. He held his Amplifier in the air, and a monstrous cutlass burst from it. Andy twirled the cutlass, and it became a whip, then a spear, then a shield. He spun the shield, and it transformed into a guitar. The whole class started to applaud.
“Thank ya,” he said, dropping to one knee. “Thank ya very much.” He leapt into the air, strummed the guitar, and it imploded back into the Amplifier’s tip.
“You were saying,” the Kilodan murmured, the slightest hint of emotion coming through.
Andy’s face turned red. “Most Amplifiers,” he explained, “look like a fountain pen or some other ordinary, everyday object. Easy to carry, easy to hide, completely undetectable. For a long time, only those who had mastered the Mental Arts could turn their thoughts into physical weapons. The rest of us had to touch our opponent to transfer mental attacks, the way my cold and uncaring partner just demonstrated. However, thanks to a technological genius, a master of psitronics—in fact, dare I say it? A babe magnet, the standard to which all women compare their men—”
The Kilodan sighed. “The point, Andor…”
Andy raised an eyebrow. “I personally find the history of the Amplifier fascinating. But for those of you who are less concerned with our glorious past, let me just say that the Amplifier gives the fledgling black belt the ability to channel thoughts and emotions into physical weapons. The technology behind it is very intricate, from the silver and gold encephalographic electrodes to the resonating core, which amplifies your thoughts the way a toilet bowl amplifies the sound you make when you—”
“Thank you, Andor.” The Kilodan shook his head and turned to the class. “To understand a technique, you must experience it. Pair up. We will begin with the Memory Lash.”
Yuck. I drew my Amplifier and faced Andy. “So,” I said sweetly and innocently, trying not to make it too obvious that I desperately did not want to do a Memory Lash. “Might I inquire as to your knowledge of the connection between Mason, the stalker, and the drugs in my school?”
Andy pursed his lips. “You might.”
“I just did.”
“Don’t want to do a Memory Lash, huh?”
“Nope. And your answer would be?”
“The Knights are back.”
“As in Walpurgis?”
“Si.”
“And you know this how?”
“I am all-knowing. I am all-seeing.”
“Enlighten me.”
Andy frowned. “Ten years ago it was drugs and kidnapping. This time, it’s drugs and kidnapping. Consider yourself enlightened.”
I just stared at him. “‘Splain.”
“The Walpurgis Knights kidnap children and train them to be Knights.”
“‘Kay.” I knew that.
“They use mutated hallucinogens to change their personalities. Nice people can’t be Knights.”
“‘Kay.” I didn’t know that.
“What do you know about Draudimon?” Andy asked.
“Mr. Munificent insinuated that someone at school is involved with a man in a skull mask. I think it’s Mason. Mr. Smelly had a skull mask. If Mason knows who he is, I’ll get it out of him. Preferably, by force.”
“Mr. Smelly doesn’t wear the skull mask,” Andy said.
“Well, he did in the memory I saw.”
“That wasn’t his mask. I believe that was a memory of someone he met. The man in the Elmo mask and the man in the skull mask are two different people.”
I was confused. “Why do you think that?”
“This isn’t the first time a man in a skull mask caused us a lot of trouble.”
“Well, I only care about the stalker. If Mr. Smelly doesn’t wear the skull…crud. Mason can’t help me there.”
“Oh, contrariwise. If Munificent is right, and he always is, our best clue is in your school. And if you’re right, which has happened on occasion—”
“Hey!”
“Elmo and Skullface are definitely linked, but for some reason, they’re targeting different victims. The Knights always kidnapped young children, like when they took you. But the drug ring seems to be targeting teens. May be part of the same scheme, may not be. I don’t know, but if it is, the Knights have changed their M.O.”
“M-what?”
“Modus operandi.” Andy slapped my forehead. “Do you not watch crime dramas? As I was saying, if you’re right, you’d better become good buddies with Mason. He may be our best connection to the man with the death’s head for a face. And I can settle an old score.”
Hot anxiety suddenly burned in my chest. “What do you mean?”
“I fought a man in a skull mask the night your parents died. I suspect that you saw your parents’ killer in the stalker’s mind.”
This was news I hadn’t seen coming.
Chapter Six
Odd Connections