I stood frozen, the weight of our shared confessions hanging in the air. Sam's gaze hadn't left my face, and I couldn't decide if I wanted to run toward him or away from him.
The orb pulsed again, this time with an angry crimson light. The floor beneath us trembled.
"That can't be good," I muttered, grabbing the orb and wrapping it in my scarf. The crystal hummed against my palms, vibrating with barely contained energy.
"We need to get that thing to Zelda," Sam said, moving toward the exit. "Now."
A deafening crack split the air as the chamber's ceiling began to splinter. Dust and ancient plaster rained down.
"Move, people!" Vic shouted, already halfway up the stairs. "Immortality doesn't protect against being crushed!"
We scrambled up to the main stage, Mayor Grimble huffing behind us. The theater's emergency lights flickered wildly, casting manic shadows across the walls. The orb's energy pulsed through my scarf, sending waves of magic rippling outward.
"Something's happening," I warned, feeling the distinctive tingle of uncontrolled magic in the air. "The orb is?—"
Before I could finish, the prop closest began to rattle. The door burst open, releasing a flood of Sharknado costume pieces that assembled themselves mid-air. Fabric fins and foam teeth clicked together, forming three complete shark costumes that began swimming through the air with alarming purpose.
"For the record," Sam growled, ducking as a shark dive-bombed his head, "this is exactly why I work alone!"
I dodged a spinning tornado prop that had lifted off its stand. "Oh please, your missions probably go wrong in much more boring ways than animated shark costumes!"
"You'd be surprised," he shot back, snatching a shark out of the air and ripping it in half. It immediately began reassembling itself.
The orb pulsed again, and the entire set of tornado props began spinning, creating actual wind currents that sent sheet music and programs swirling through the air.
"The door!" I shouted, pointing toward the exit now partially blocked by a whirling mass of fake storm clouds.
Mayor Grimble attempted to take charge. "As the municipal authority, I must insist we implement evacuation protocol seven, paragraph?—"
A particularly enthusiastic shark costume swooped down and caught the Mayor's hat in its fabric jaws, dragging it upward.
"My emergency theater inspection hat!" he wailed, jumping futilely.
Sam grabbed my elbow, pulling me toward a side exit. "This way!"
Vic was already there, holding the door open. "Ladies, werewolves, and bureaucrats first!"
The orb's magic intensified as we moved, causing the stage lights to explode in showers of sparks. The shark costumes began swimming in synchronized patterns, paired with the tornado props in an absurd aerial ballet.
"Hurry!" I called to Mayor Grimble, who was still mourning his hat.
He turned toward us, taking a determined step—and promptly disappeared through another trapdoor that had opened beneath him.
"Aaaaaaaaahhh—" His scream faded as he fell, followed by a distant splash.
"Was that... water?" I asked, horrified.
"The orchestra pit flooded last week," Vic explained. "Something about magical plumbing and Elder Thornberry's experimental pipe cleaner."
We burst through the exit doors into the cool night air, the orb still humming ominously in my hands. Behind us, the animated props arranged themselves into perfect pairs—shark with tornado, spotlight with curtain, chair with chair—before collapsing in heaps.
"Zelda's," Sam said firmly. "Now."
I nodded, trying not to think about his confession or mine. "What about the Mayor?"
A soggy figure emerged from the theater's basement window.
"I am formally registering my objection to magical theater renovations!" Mayor Grimble called, his sodden clothes dripping. "Also, I found another artifact down there. It was floating."
