"People come in from London all the time," the man replied, raising a haughty eyebrow as if daring Shelton to challenge his logic.


"But you remembered us when we came in!" he said.


The guard, however, was more or less like a honey badger. He just didn't give a damn.


After clearing us for reentry, the man turned to the next in line, his wand ready to violate their every secret.


Shelton grumbled under his breath.


"He's just doing his job," I said, though my heart wasn't really into defending the guard. I just wanted Shelton to shut up before he got us into trouble.


"Look at the moron, lording it over everyone like he runs the place." Shelton pshawed. "Give someone a little bit of power, and they abuse the hell out of it."


I glanced back as a man with a bright red bowler perched atop his bald head bypassed the line of people and sauntered up to the gatekeeper. He said a word or two, and the gatekeeper motioned him past. "Man, this place really lets the elites get away with anything."


Shelton had apparently seen it, too. "It's all about politics." He took out his arcphone, flicked the screen and looked at it for a moment. "Sweet."


"What is it?" I asked.


"I got some buddies up at the Science Academy," Shelton said. "I texted one, and he got us access to an empty dorm room for the night."


"There's our silver lining," I said, trying not to think about Elyssa. I noticed most of the people who'd come back were headed down the yellow brick road to Queens Gate proper for lodging.


We turned toward the rocket ship, boarding it with a group of frustrated adults dragging along tired kids who looked about elementary school age. I almost asked Shelton why such young kids were here, but remembered what Miles had told me about the schools accepting kids as young as ten.


Even though the rocket was the size of a subway train car, people occupied more than half of the bench seats stretching lengthwise along the curved hull of the transport, with room to stand in the center. Shelton and I took spots near the middle. The man with the god-awful red bowler stepped inside a moment later. He glanced at us, making eye contact with me for a second before sitting on the bench opposite us in the front. I found it hard to stop staring at the man's gaudy, red polyester suit and his shiny, white shoes. A red polka-dotted shirt with a lacy collar attempted to murder my eyes from beneath the polyester jacket.


"Isn't that a crime against humanity?" I said, motioning my head toward the man.


Shelton sputtered with laughter, not even trying to conceal the object of our mutual derision. "Man, that can't be for real." He touched his chin in thought for a moment. "Although I do remember one of my teachers at the university who loved to wear robes with fake fur on them." He shuddered. "There's no accounting for taste."


Turning my eyes away from the bizarrely dressed man, I said to Shelton, "Tell me again why there's a science academy in the Overworld. Isn't that more of a nom thing?"


He chuckled. "You know movies with mad scientists?"


"Like Frankenstein?" I asked.


"Yeah, kinda like that." He motioned toward the robot with the fishbowl head and blinking lights as it greeted everyone and announced departure in a robotic monotone. "Just look around, man. Think of robotic spiders, flying saucers, and levitating skateboards. Science Academy is every nerd's wet dream."


I couldn't deny that. "I take it the Arcanes and techies don't get along?"


Shelton gave me an are you serious? look. "In case you failed to notice, they're purists at the university. Hell, they only just allowed arcphones, and that's because so many parents complained to the council about having to write letters instead of being able to text or call their kids."


I had difficulty getting it all straight in my head. "But don't arcphones mix science and magic?"


Shelton took off his hat and brushed it against his side. "The School of Magical and Scientific Synergy is the part of Science Academy that deals with mixing the two, but most of the other departments deal in pure science."


I felt my forehead wrinkle more than usual. "I don't get why the university and academy can't just get along. Arcphones are freaking sweet."


He chuckled. "One word: elitism. Arcphones allow those with less inherent arcane talent to compete on a level playing field with powerful naturals. The naturals don't like that. That's one reason the Arcane Tourney is limited to non-technological foci, like staffs and wands without built-in generators."


From the perspective of pure ego, it made sense, even if it was all wrong. "Are the techies as stuck up as the Arcanes?"


He waggled a hand in a so-so fashion. "The Grand Experimental Expo is sort of like the Arcane Tourney, except it's about inventing the craziest stuff possible."


"Sounds like a grown-up version of a science fair."


He nodded. "It's a heck of a lot more entertaining than the stupid Arcane Tourney, I'll tell you that much."


I stared out the window as the top of the mountain loomed closer. "It would be so cool if they'd share with noms." I shrugged. "I just don't get why it has to be so top secret. We could have spaceships and travel the universe."


"Didn't you hear what I said earlier?" Shelton said, his voice gruff. "Elitists like my dad will never let that happen. Why would you allow the noms to have that kind of power?" He narrowed his eyes. "And before you get any bright ideas about giving arcphones to your high school buddies, you should know giving Overworld technology or magic to noms is a capital offense."


I gave him a wounded look. "I know it's all hush-hush, geez."


"Yeah, well the penalty is death or eternal banishment to the Gloom. I still don't know which is worse." He shuddered. "I had to fulfill a bounty on someone I knew. I didn't know at the time they'd broken that particular law, or maybe I would have turned it down."


"Wow, Shelton. You cashed in a contract on a friend?" I shook my head. "Now, that's low."


He stared at me with narrowed eyes for a moment. "She wasn't my friend. Just someone I went to school with."


I didn't know whether to admire Shelton for doing his job despite the circumstances, or to despise him for doing his job because of them. I tried not to judge the man, but it was hard. One minute he could be a complete butt muncher, and the next, he could be rescuing my butt from a bad situation. He'd allegedly been involved with Vadaemos, the same demon spawn who'd killed Meghan Andretti's father. He'd also tried to kidnap me and my father for a bounty. Shelton was either a very complicated person or a complete schizoid—and I didn't know which.


The episode with his father and revelation about his brother made me all the more curious. But it nothing short of a nuclear bomb seemed capable of penetrating Shelton's protective armor.


I decided to abandon the subject for the time being as the rocket climbed toward the mountain where Science Academy awaited.


The rocket bumped down on a landing pad. The robot pilot swiveled at the waist and said in a robotic monotone, "We have arrived, Earthlings."


We stepped outside onto a sidewalk made of a strange material that looked almost like liquid mercury, though not as shiny. The moment our feet touched down, the material surged beneath us. I yelped in surprise, much to the amusement of a group of geeks just behind us. The pathway carried us into a large tunnel. A white glow suffused the corridor, gleaming off the polished chrome-like material on the walls. Beams of red light scanned us as we went through and, at the end, a hulking robot with giant cylindrical guns on the arms strode our way on legs bent backwards like those of a kangaroo.


"Identify," it said in a cybernetic voice.


"Oh, for crying out loud," Shelton said. "Doesn't this joke ever get old?"


The gun barrels whirred to life, rotating so fast they were a blur, and a single red eye in the center of its chrome body blazed to life. "Identify."


"Ignore it," Shelton said and headed toward another moving pathway.


Staring at the spinning guns, I sidled up to Shelton, placing him squarely between me and the robot, even though I noticed the other passengers from the rocket were ignoring the contraption as well. The man with the red bowler paused at the end of the branching path, his eyes locking onto mine. He tipped his bowler at me, winked and smiled, then took the opposite path away from us.


Before I had a chance to wonder about the odd man, Shelton drew my attention back to the lethal-looking robot, dismissing it with a wave of his hand. "If the scans don't recognize someone, that thing comes out to make you crap your drawers."


"Well, it works," I said.


He sniffed the air. "Whew, guess it did."


I poked him with an elbow. "Ha, ha. Laugh it up, buddy."


He did.


The moving pathway took us past a long building, all curves and organic grace, with a silvery sheen visible by the white ambient light glowing from an unseen source around it. The same liquid glass I'd seen in use at the MagicSoft and Orange stores in the Grotto seemed to be in use here, judging from the gentle undulations of the windows. I gawked at the beauty and cutting-edge aesthetics with unabashed admiration.


Shelton held a hand to the left as we came to a fork in the moving pathway, and the surface shifted us left toward a three-story building that looked as though it might belong to an outpost on Mars. "Those are the dorms. My friend left me with a passkey."


Something overhead flashed by so fast, I wondered if I had imagined it. Two more streaks blurred toward the building, followed by a slower-moving flying saucer which stopped to hover for a moment, casting a blinding dome of light on the two of us. I almost expected to be abducted by aliens before the rotating ship resumed course and whirred onward to the building.


"Where can I get one of those?" I asked, certain I was already drooling.


Shelton laughed and pressed his thumb against a biometric reader on the building door. It slid open with a whoosh, and we stepped inside. The interior of the dorm looked normal, almost like a hotel, but with no carpeting or front desk. Our room was a small affair with a bunk bed against one wall and two empty desks against the other.