The four kids—Blake, Merlock, Spencer and Steph—walked along the streets of Manhattan, buildings towering over them and casting golden glows along the busy streets. The shadows that they casted were overwhelmed by the bright lights that shone down from work edifices and offices as well as apartments and royal-looking structures. They passed Central Park and continued down the sidewalk. It was about eight-o’ clock, and the streets were packed with cars. The sun had barely risen over the skyline of Manhattan, and so the street lights were just turning off. The grass was wet with morning dew, and the air was humid and smelled earthy.
“So how did this Zane kid get your number?” asked Spencer.
“I have no idea,” replied Blake. “He said his name was Zane Morningstar, that he was a warlock, and that he needed my help. He told me that he had something that I would be ‘quite interested in.’” Blake indicated with a hook of his index and middle finger. “I think he’s going to be really powerful.”
“Why?” asked Merlock.
“Well, I just have a hunch.”
“Where are we meeting him?” Steph questioned.
“There. The LVMH tower,” he said. He gestured to a large glass tower in the distance. Golden lights spewed from the top of its crystalline surface. It looked like you could see right through it. The glass tower was magnificence among ordinary sights, like a DaVinci painting in a Kindergarten finger painting class. It was overseeing a busy street where cars raced by. “He’s at the top.”
“How old is he, and how will we get up there?” asked Spencer.
“He’ll get us up there, and I’m not sure how old he is or what he looks like. He just said that we’ll know when we see him.” They kept walking, moving past now-common-looking buildings until they reached the street that the tower was on. They all gazed up in wonder at the glass monument in awe. Its splendor outshone the rest of Manhattan easily with its windows, reflectance of light and its unbelievable height. It looked like it was about three hundred feet. It was a lucid, light-filled, shimmering glass tower that unfurled as it ascended, like a rapidly growing lily.
They walked hesitantly into the monument through the arched French doors, and pushed through the spinning door into the lobby. They looked around at the translucent walls and the beautifully decorated room when a boy walked over to them. He had sleek black hair and brilliant green eyes. His hair was straight and fell over his forehead to his bushy eyebrows before spiking up. His eyes were sharp under his thick black brows, and his mouth was a thin line, and his face made him look older than Blake. He was wearing a leather coat and denim jeans with a belt. His eyes passed over them quickly.
“Are you Zane Morningstar?” asked Blake. The boy smiled, and nodded.
“Follow me,” he said. He turned away and walked over to the elevator. People were going in, and he snapped his fingers. They stopped, dazed for a minute. He walked into the elevator, Blake, Merlock, Spencer and Steph following. Zane closed the elevator door, and then it began to rise. Zane waved his hand through the air, which shimmered. The elevator began to rush faster up until it came to a halt at the top floor. “The top two floors are called the Magic Rooms. They’re only used for parties and top-secret social meetings. You should be honored to be up here.” He walked out of the elevator. When everyone else filed out, Zane waited for it to close. Then, he pointed at the elevator, and a wave of undulating power raced towards it, striking it and slightly denting the front. “A magnetic pull,” he said.
“So,” said Blake. “How did you get my phone number?”
“That isn’t important, now is it?” said Zane.
“Fine. How old are you?”
“Older than most people,” he replied in a riddle. “Let’s look for a legitimate question now.”
Who the hell are you? How do you know me? Why are you so secretive, Blake thought. “Why am I here?”
“You are here because I need your help,” said Zane. “With a Summoning.”