The Magic Misfits: The Second Story

  Copyright

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Text and illustrations copyright © 2018 by Neil Patrick Harris.

  Story illustrations by Lissy Marlin. How-To illustrations by Kyle Hilton.

  Cover art by Lissy Marlin. Cover design by Karina Granda.

  Cover art copyright © 2018 by Neil Patrick Harris.

  Cover copyright © 2018 by Hachette Book Group, Inc.

  Hachette Book Group supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  Little, Brown and Company

  Hachette Book Group

  1290 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10104

  Visit us at LBYR.com

  First Edition: September 2018

  Little, Brown and Company is a division of Hachette Book Group, Inc.

  The Little, Brown name and logo are trademarks of Hachette Book Group, Inc.

  The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Harris, Neil Patrick, 1973– author. | Azam, Alec, author. | Marlin, Lissy, illustrator.

  Title: Magic misfits : the second story / by Neil Patrick Harris & Alec Azam ; story artistry by Lissy Marlin ; how-to magic by Kyle Hinton.

  Description: First edition. | New York ; Boston : Little, Brown and Company, 2018. | Series: Magic Misfits ; 2 | Summary: Leila and the other Magic Misfits have the opportunity to perform with a famous stage psychic known as Madame Esmeralda, who may hold secrets to Leila’s past.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2017056646| ISBN 9780316391856 (hardcover : alk. paper) | ISBN 9780316391832 (ebook : alk. paper) | ISBN 9780316391863 (library edition ebook : alk. paper)

  Subjects: | CYAC: Magic tricks—Fiction. | Orphans—Fiction. | Identity—Fiction. | Psychics—Fiction. | Friendship—Fiction. | Gay fathers—Fiction. | Humorous stories.

  Classification: LCC PZ7.1.H3747 Mam 2018 | DDC [Fic]—dc23

  LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017056646

  ISBNs: 978-0-316-39185-6 (hardcover), 978-0-316-39183-2 (ebook), 978-0-316-41986-4 (large print), 978-0-316-52639-5 (int’l), 978-0-316-48724-5 (B&N special edition)

  E3-20180801-JV-PC

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  COVER

  TITLE PAGE

  COPYRIGHT

  DEDICATION

  WELCOME BACK!

  ONE—the first one, the second time. Because this is the second book

  TWO—the second second one

  THREE—the first one after the second

  FOUR—not the third

  FIVE—this is how many fingers I have on my right hand. Not really important here, though

  SIX—if you multiply the 2nd chapter by the 3rd, you’d get this one

  SEVEN—this one is after that one

  EIGHT—this one is before the next one

  NINE—is anyone still reading these?

  TEN—this is the number of all my fingers! Again, not really relevant

  ELEVEN—or 2 in Roman numerals, but that’s confusing

  TWELVE—there are this many royals in a deck of cards

  THIRTEEN—number of cards in a suit

  FOURTEEN—you’ll find this one on page 134

  FIFTEEN—why isn’t it five-teen? I’ve always wondered

  SIXTEEN—again, are you still reading these?

  SEVENTEEN—lots of e’s in seventeen

  EIGHTEEN—when you say this out loud, sometimes people think you are saying eighty

  NINETEEN—can you imagine if there were eighty chapters?

  TWENTY—that would be about fifty chapters too many

  TWENTY-ONE—this is the official adult chapter

  TWENTY-TWO—a number so nice, they named it twice

  TWENTY-THREE—yeesh, did we have this many chapters last time?

  TWENTY-FOUR—this just seems excessive

  TWENTY-FIVE—uuuughhhhhh

  TWENTY-SIX—oh wait—this one is cool. Twenty-six is the number of red cards in a deck. So that’s cool

  TWENTY-SEVEN—or twenty-seven, if you count the joker

  TWENTY-EIGHT—wait, is the joker red?

  TWENTY-NINE—I looked it up—sometimes

  THIRTY!—the last chapter! Made it. Whew. Now turn the page already!

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  WHAT’S MORSE CODE?

  A PROMISE TO RETURN

  To Harper and Gideon,

  because the latter was listed first

  in the previous book

  and the former was far from pleased.

  WELCOME BACK!

  Yes, you… the one with the awesome hair and this book in your hands!

  Who else would I be talking to?

  You’ve returned! How nice to see you again! It’s been too long. If I know you at all, I’ll bet you’re seeking an escape from the ordinary and looking for more adventure, more puzzles, more em-ay-gee-eye-see. Well, look no further. I have another story to tell you.… Have I ever!

  I hope you remember everything we discussed in the last book. It will make it easier to hop back in.…

  Need a refresher? No problem!

  Let’s begin with our delightful cast. Do you recall the boy with fast fingers? The orphan, Carter Locke, was a wiz with card tricks and could make things vanish—and reappear too! Though truthfully, he didn’t believe in real magic until he hopped a train to the town of Mineral Wells, where wonders appeared around every corner—from the buzzing circus tents of the fairgrounds to the magnificent auditorium way up in the hills at the Grand Oak Resort.

  His friend Leila Vernon was the young and bright-eyed escape artist extraordinaire, who wrangled out of handcuffs and straitjackets as easily as if she’d played with them as toys in her cradle. Surely it had nothing to do with her lucky lockpicks, given to her by her fathers, whom she lived with above a certain magic shop on Main Street.

  Let us not forget Theo Stein-Meyer, the multitalented violin prodigy who could levitate objects using his violin bow. Yes, music can be soothing for the soul, and for the heart, especially when it comes with magic. Theo rarely showed his regally thoughtful face around Mineral Wells unless he was dressed in one of his favorite and famous tuxedos.

  There was also our little spitfire, Ridley Larsen, whose mad-scientist red hair made her look just as fierce as she acted. She could transform one object into another and then back again all before you could say “Abracadabra!” Ridley kept a notebook hidden in a compartment in the arm of her wheelchair so she could work out puzzles and invent secret codes to share with her friends. If you’re especially kind, maybe one day she’ll share them with you too. (Or maybe she already has.)

  And last (but not least!) were the hilarious Izzy and Olly, the comedic Golden twins, who performed at the Grand Oak Resort. Those two were quite the act, both literally and figuratively. If you wanted laughs, those were the twins you needed.

  In our previous tale, not long ago—or
was it forever ago? I can’t remember—Carter, Leila, Theo, Ridley, Olly, and Izzy used their stage magic skills to stop a rash of petty robberies and ultimately prevented the theft of the world’s largest diamond. Working together, these six kids bonded while battling the barbaric B. B. Bosso, and thus formed a very special magic club called the Magic Misfits.

  Is it all coming back now?

  Brilliant!

  Now, for another reminder…

  The volume you are currently holding tells the next chapter in the saga of our misfit magicians. Like the one that came before, this book is also filled with lessons on magic—lessons that you can practice in your bedroom or basement or school gymnasium.

  If you read the whole thing, both the tale and the lessons, you’ll likely come away with some skills of your own—skills that you can use to make your friends gasp and gag and giggle with gratitude. There may even be laughter and clapping. Because isn’t that what this is all about: making your friends smile and giving them an escape from the ordinariness of the everyday?

  Once again, I must ask that you keep the secrets of the magical lessons to yourself. In other words, please don’t go whispering them into sewer grates in the dead of night. And don’t stand in front of an audience and explain how each trick works before or after you perform them. It ruins the illusion, and you probably won’t get the same kind of applause. And, of course, refrain from reciting the lessons to any gossips in your school. You never know when a rival magician might show up and thwart your hard work. Rival magicians can be tricky that way.

  If you do feel the need to share these lessons, make sure it’s with a group of your best friends, those who’ve promised to keep your secrets—a magicians’ club, if you will, just like our very own Magic Misfits. After all, secret organizations are quite fun. Who doesn’t want to be part of a club?

  One of the most fun things to do with other magic-minded folks is to put on a show. Keep this in mind as you discover the magic lessons within these pages. How would you set your stage to impress your audience? Would you use a great red curtain? Or would you start in pitch-darkness to add a sense of mystery and tension? Would one of your friends act as an announcer? Or might your magic club begin the show in silence?

  These questions are not only useful when staging a magical production but they also come in handy when telling a story like the one I am about to begin. Personally, I feel that a mixture of the following aspects is most effective: curtains, trapdoors, shadows, mirrors, music, sound effects, voice-overs, and fog. And don’t forget the sense of excitement of a new journey.

  Are you ready to find out which of these I’ve chosen to start our show?

  I mean, story?

  Well then, go on and turn the page!

  ONE

  Leila Vernon did not always live in Mineral Wells. In fact, her name had not always been Leila Vernon. When she stayed at Mother Margaret’s Home for Children, Leila’s last name had been Doe.

  Doe was not a name that she’d been given by family—Doe was Leila’s name because no one knew who her family was. When Mother Margaret first found Leila, a notecard in the bassinet stated only her first name and birth date. Leila never let this get the better of her. In fact, she tried harder than the other girls to keep a positive attitude, even when they treated her as if she were as worthless as a wooden nickel.

  That was why, one afternoon, when several girls from Mother Margaret’s Home were dragging Leila Doe down the hallway toward Mother Margaret’s office, Leila let out a loud and boisterous laugh. “Ha-ha-ha!” she shouted as they pinched her arms. “That tickles!”

  Leila was not actually tickled by what the mean girls were doing to her, but she figured that maybe an adult would hear her loud cries and intervene. She didn’t need to be psychic to know what the girls were up to, as they locked her in the darkest closet in the whole orphanage at least once a week. All because the tallest of the bunch had decided at some point that she didn’t like Leila always smiling and being cheery.

  The tall girl wished for Leila to be as miserable as she was. And so she and her friends went out of their way to torment Leila every chance they got. Leila fought with every breath to not show them how much they were hurting her, especially on this particular afternoon, when a group of real-live magicians from the town of Mineral Wells was going to perform for all the children. Leila had been looking forward to the show for weeks.

  “Come on, guys!” Leila said with a forced smile. “Let’s all go down to the recreation room. Everyone is probably waiting for us. There might even be cookies!”

  The only response she got was a twisted echo of her last statement. “There might even be cookies,” the tall girl repeated snidely. The others cackled cruelly.

  As the gang dragged Leila toward Mother Margaret’s office, she dug her heels into the linoleum. But together, the girls were too strong. The soles of her shoes left black streaks across the gray tile floor. The tallest girl flung the office door open, and the others yanked Leila through the room toward the familiar closet door. They threw her into the closet and slammed the door shut, drowning Leila’s vision in darkness. Leila heard the door lock from the other side.

  “Okay, joke’s over, let me out!” Leila begged, banging on the door. “Don’t you want to see the magicians?”

  “Sure we do!” called one of the girls through the thick wood. “That’s where we are headed right now.”

  “Come join us… if you can!” called another. Laughter rang out like the cries of crows that often sounded across the playground outside. Their footsteps faded as they ran away.

  Leila knew what would happen when she tried the knob, but—always hopeful—she tried it anyway.

  It was locked. And she was alone. Again.

  Leila swiveled her head back and forth, but the dark was so complete her eyes didn’t register any movement. Her heart thundered as it usually did whenever the gang of girls shoved her in here. The acrid smell of the damp wooden walls stung her nose.

  In the past, it had taken an adult an hour or more to discover Leila cowering in the corner of the closet. And whenever they did find her, they scolded Leila as if she had locked herself in the headmistress’s closet.

  To calm down, Leila imagined herself as a beautiful girl who was part of the magic show downstairs: purposely shut inside a cabinet on stage, then wowing the audience by disappearing without a trace, with a flash and a bang and a whizzz-zup!

  Frustration clenched her body. The magic show was the only thing she’d been looking forward to recently. She wanted to see white doves fly from the formal jackets of the magicians, flower bouquets appear from thin air, playing cards float up and out of a deck.…

  Leila decided she was not going to allow those girls to ruin this for her. For the first time, she’d stand up, really stand up to them. But before she could do that, she had to figure out a way to escape.

  Leila felt around in the dark, pushing her finger against the keyhole. Perhaps there was a way to unlock it from the inside. Leila had never picked a lock before, but she’d read about heroes doing it in stories. First, she’d need some tools. She plucked out the bobby pin holding her hair in place and stuck it in the keyhole. She turned it back and forth. Inside the lock, the tool met the tumblers. She heard them clinking. But without another pin, she wouldn’t be able to catch them and turn the locking mechanism.

  She didn’t have another bobby pin. But she was standing inside Mother Margaret’s office closet. Sweeping the floor with her fingers, her heart sped up as she encountered a lone paper clip. Luck was on her side!

  She unfolded the clip. She stuck the tip into the keyhole and felt around, putting tension on the plug, seeing how far it would give. The pins clicked against the tumblers but kept slipping.

  A muffled cheer came from the floor below. The show had begun.

  “No, no, no!” Leila whispered to herself. In her mind’s eye, she pictured the mob of magicians standing on stage, pulling rabbits out of hats, transformin
g marbles into pearls, levitating chairs, and flipping black silk cloaks over their shoulders. She’d been counting on some magical memories to get her through the next few months with a smile on her face.

  The more she rushed, the harder it was to manipulate the pin and clip in the keyhole. Minutes ticked by, until it felt as though she might never escape. She worried the show would end before she broke out. Leila was about to throw down her tools in frustration when she felt a distinct click, and the door swung open a crack. She tapped her feet excitedly against the floor in a celebratory dance.

  At the top of the stairwell, a voice sounded from below: “And now for our final act…” The sound of clapping grew louder as Leila raced halfway down, then paused. In the rec room, several rows of chairs were arranged around a platform, upon which sat a distinctive man in a black suit and a tall top hat. A black cape fell from his shoulders, and when he moved his arms, a red silk lining winked at her. The man’s hair was pure white and made of curls, while a straight black mustache smirked from the top of his lips. Leila plopped herself onto a middle step and watched the man with the curly white hair through the rickety wooden balusters.

  You must already know who the man with the curly white hair is… but Leila didn’t. This was the moment she saw Mr. Vernon for the very first time, and the sight took her breath away. Do you remember when Carter first encountered Mr. Vernon? It was on the night that Carter arrived in Mineral Wells. He came down from the train yard to blend in with the crowds at Bosso’s circus. Mr. Vernon’s deft skills—flipping two coins around and around between his knuckles—blew Carter’s mind.

  Now, as Leila watched this same man’s two assistants tie him tightly to a metal chair, she felt something even more profound than Carter had. She was certain that she’d escaped from the closet upstairs so that fate would allow her to see this man.

  The stage assistants’ faces were covered with a thin black stretchy fabric. First, they cuffed the man’s ankles to the chair’s legs. Then they wrapped a long chain around his torso and the chair’s back, so that his arms were pinned to his sides. The orphans in the audience gasped as the assistants attached a thick padlock to the ends of the chain, which hung in the center of his chest. When they slipped an oil-cloth sack over the man’s head, several of the children cried out in fear.