“Poor Agnes,” said the first teacher, dipping a chip in salsa. “The CCS really threw her for a loop.”
Sylvie’s ears perked up.
The other one nodded. “Her hands are already full. Now, she has to factor in special meals for Bass and his team.”
Sylvie hustled toward the double doors connecting the dining hall to Agnes’s kitchen.If she’s making special meals for Bass, that means coordinating menus and itineraries. She’ll have his schedule!
Zip!
The wanted poster of August flew back into view. Sylvie turned rigid. This one was different. It took her mind a moment to catch up with her eyes.
WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE! ISN’T IT TIME WE STOPPED AND ASKED, WHY?
AUGUST STRANGE KNOWS THE TRUTH… . THE APPLE OF DISCORD HAS BLOOMED.
THE CCS IS COVERING IT UP WITH LIES!
The teachers in the corner stared at the scroll.
“The Apple … do you think it’s true?” one asked.
“If it is, you know what this means,” said the other.
They dropped their chips and raced out the door.
Sylvie wasn’t sure what it meant. But one thing was certain. This announcement wasn’t just a hack. It was an act of war. The CCS would retaliate. Time was running out, for everyone.
Sylvie burst into the kitchen.
“Hello? Agnes? It’s Sylvie.”
The sound of a pan crashing to the ground echoed out.
“Agnes?” Sylvie followed the noise. “I need to talk to you.”
The speed racks were now overflowing with pans of fluffy tortillas and chafing dishes full of cheesy enchiladas.
Urgent footsteps moved across the room, but no one answered.
“Hello?”
Thunk!
A door somewhere in the back shut.
Sylvie stopped short. The glint of something lying beneath an overturned sheet pan caught her eye.A mentor badge.Sylvie picked it up and examined it. A name was etched into the backside, just below the hook and needle:FLORAJACKSON.
Sylvie tried to make sense of it.She was here.
“Hello? Flora?” Sylvie called, hoping she’d suddenly appear with a simple explanation. But the kitchen remained quiet.Why run and hide? Because whatever she’s up to, she didn’t want anyone to know about it,thought Sylvie, answering her own question. Sylvie tucked the badge into her pocket.Well, that’s too bad, because I’m going to confront her,Sylvie decided.
The air around Sylvie suddenly grew fragrant. Parsley. Onion. Carrots. Peppercorns.This is more like Agnes’s cooking.Sylvie spotted a stock pot on the nearby stove. A heady steam floated out.
A cookbook was open next to it. Sylvie brushed a finger across the matte cream cover dotted with red fleur-de-lis. Sylvie knew this cookbook. It was her favorite:Mastering the Art of Magical Cooking.
Sylvie eyed the open recipe.Clarity Consommé.She’d never made consommé, but she knew what it was. Broth that was slowly cooked and strained, until nothing but a rich, crystal-clear soup was left.
Sylvie stared into the pot. This was an incredibly powerful spell,designed to give murky situations more transparency. Is this what Flora was after?Just like the broth simmering inside, an idea was churning in Sylvie.
