“Psst.”
There it was. Someone was definitely trying to catch his attention, like a kid passing notes in class in an ’80s movie. He turned and spotted a short, squat man standing in a nearby alley, leaning against the wall and trying, but utterly failing, to appear casual. James caught the man’s eye, and he nodded toward the alley, kicked off the wall, and disappeared.
James tapped Rocky on the shoulder and gestured to where the old man had vanished. Rocky, who was still staring after the man he wanted to fight, lifted an eyebrow.
“Come on,” James said quietly. He glanced around, apprehensive, and walked into the alley.
It wasn’t much of an alleyway. It led nowhere, soon ending at a low wall. James eyed the wall, then looked at the side of the building to his right—where a door sat completely ajar.
Without checking if Rocky was with him, he stepped inside.
The room was dark, illuminated only by the pyramid of sunlight that streamed through the door. James could just make out a shelf filled with dusty books. Everything else was shrouded in darkness.
“What’re you—oh,” Rocky said as he followed James inside. “Well, this isn’t creepy at all.”
Just then, the door slammed shut behind them with a hollow thump. James jumped, heart hammering against his chest, as the room fell into complete darkness.
“What the hell?” Rocky yelled.
“Do not be afraid!” a voice called, high-pitched and accented. A moment later, a spark flicked in the darkness, followed by a flame. A lantern floated before them, casting orange light around the room. James squinted past the light and saw the man holding the lantern—the same man from the alley.
“Who are you?” James said, apprehensive.
“A friend, I think.” The man squinted up at them, shorter than both James and Rocky by far. His long black hair was slicked back, and a scruffy beard covered his chin. “I am called Prasad.”
“You think?” Rocky repeated from behind James.
“I don’t know you. But I know what you’ve been asking. And the people of the square, they’re not happy about it,” the man called Prasad said.
“Why?” James said. “Don’t they know the Supers?”
“They do, they do. But we Nepali know what happened. And we know why the Americans took over the airbase on the mountain. We are a private people. We don’t want to get involved in your conflict.”
“Then why are you talking to us?” James said.
The man smiled, the shadows from the flame making him look older than his years. “Because I spoke with him. Calico, of the Supers. Months ago, he came to our city. News of his visit spread quickly. Why come here, to our small little corner of the world? Part of me knew, though. When he came looking for me directly, my suspicions were confirmed. He was after something. Something powerful.”
“The Chintamani Stone,” James said in a hushed voice.
Prasad peered at him over the lantern. A smile lit up his face. “So you know about it. Smart, you two.”
“We know it’s a myth.” Rocky’s voice sounded small, unsure.
“Why did he ask you?” James said.
Prasad smiled wider. “Because I’m the only person in the world who knows where it is.”
Chapter 17
The room was silent. James stared at Prasad, partly stunned and partly suspicious. This man was claiming that the stone was real, which was dubious, and that he somehow knew where it was. But he could easily be lying. Maybe he’d overheard them asking about Calico in the square and deduced a clever story to get them into this dark room by themselves. If he demanded they empty their pockets, there wasn’t much they could do. Not that they had any money in the first place.
“So... where is it?” Rocky said, breaking the stunned silence.
“First, I must know if I can trust you.”
“Trust us?” Rocky said, disbelief in his voice. James agreed. They were the ones in a small, dark room with a stranger.
“What do you want with it?” Prasad said, sounding oddly protective.
“We don’t want the stone at all,” James said, though in the back of his mind, he knew that was a lie. If the stone was real... did that mean it could really give powers? He shoved the thought down. “We just want to find the Supers.”
Prasad cocked his head. “Why?”
James realized how it must look for this man. Two American teenagers, coming to his city at the same time as the SIA, asking about the whereabouts of Calico. How could he trust them? So James threw caution to the wind, going against every instinct, and told him the truth.
“My name is James Bolt. Derek Bolt is my brother. The Bolt. I just want to find him, and this is the only lead we have.”
Prasad stared at him through the flame, his dark eyes shining, scrutinizing. After several long moments, he smiled. “Then come with me.”
He turned, swinging his lantern toward the bookcase James saw when they first entered. He placed the lantern carefully on one of the shelves. James thought he would grab one of the books, causing the shelf to swing smoothly open like something out of a movie. But instead, he stepped to the side, put his shoulder into it, and pushed.
The shelf scraped noisily against the floor as it moved, revealing a small passage with a set of wooden stairs leading into darkness.
“Again, not creepy at all,” Rocky said in a low voice.
“Come.” Prasad grabbed the lantern and descended the stairs.
James glanced at Rocky. Rocky shrugged, seemingly resigned to whatever fate awaited them. They followed the man into the darkness.
It was a short descent, only five or six steps. They entered a small room, the ceiling so low James had to duck awkwardly. Rocky, slightly shorter, had to bow his head. Prasad walked freely, seemingly unconcerned with the tightness of the place. He walked toward the middle of the room and reached up. A moment later, light flooded the room
