Free Candy Shop War by Brandon Mull Page B

anything,” Pigeon added.
     
    “You needn’t accept my offer,” Mrs. White said. “I understand that the request may seem morally complex to you. If you are unwilling, I’m sure I can find another way to reclaim these lost heirlooms. It just isn’t right. Hanaver Mills means a lot to me. It was chiefly in his memory that I chose to set up my candy shop here in Colson.”
     
    “What sort of candy will you give us to help us succeed?” Nate asked.
     
    “Well, if you must know, the Moon Rocks will help,” Mrs. White said. “The museum has a security system on the ground floor, covering all the doors and windows on that level. Nothing sophisticated—the sort of system you could find in a middle-class home. But none of the second-story windows are wired. I’ll also give you some Melting Pot Mixers, to conceal your identities. Little balls of chocolate that temporarily alter your race. They’re fun, you never know what you’re going to end up looking like. You’ll also get some Shock Bits, in case of an emergency. They generate an electrical charge inside you that infuses your touch with a burst of energy capable of stunning an attacker.”
     
    “Sweet!” Trevor exclaimed.
     
    “And one or two other mission-specific treats,” Mrs. White concluded. “What do you say?”
     
    “Can we have some time to think it over?” Summer asked.
     
    “Sadly, no,” Mrs. White said. “I closed the shop so we could discuss this in peace. It’s now or never. For the record, if you ever decline an assignment, our arrangement for sharing magic candy permanently ends at that moment. I require helpers I can count on.”
     
    “When do you want this to happen?” Nate asked.
     
    “Late Friday night,” Mrs. White responded. “Technically, early Saturday morning. Should you elect to help me out, I have a few more details for you. I’ve already conducted all the appropriate research. The task should be almost effortless if you follow my instructions.”
     
    “I’m not sure this is right,” Pigeon said skeptically. “Remember what the guy we saw said?”
     
    “What guy did you see?” Mrs. White asked.
     
    “Some drunk,” Trevor said. “He seemed to have something against you.”
     
    “He told us to stay away from you,” Summer said. “He said you were dangerous.”
     
    “What did this man look like?” Mrs. White asked.
     
    “Skinny and dirty,” Trevor said. “I think he’s homeless. I’ve noticed him roaming around town the past few weeks.”
     
    “He was a crackpot,” Nate said. “I’ll help you, Mrs. White.”
     
    “Excellent, Nate,” she said, beaming at him. “This means so much to me. You other three, if any of you feel too uncomfortable, this is not an all-or-nothing proposal. Two of you can do it, or three of you. But any who refrain get no more magic candy. I’m sorry, but that is how I do business.”
     
    “I’ll do it,” Summer said.
     
    “Me too,” Trevor agreed.
     
    All eyes turned to Pigeon. He looked unsure. “What if my mom finds out?” he asked.
     
    “The white fudge will help with that,” Mrs. White promised. “You’ll sneak out after midnight. Since you’ll be using magic candy, she won’t check on you. You’ll be back a couple of hours later, and she will be none the wiser.”
     
    Pigeon shuffled his feet. “Can the Shock Bits kill somebody?”
     
    “In the quantity I recommend, a small mouthful, they will give just enough of a jolt to keep others from apprehending you. Nothing lethal, or even truly harmful. Furthermore, I doubt you’ll even need to use them.”
     
    Pigeon looked at Summer, Nate, and Trevor. “I’m in,” he said at last.
     
    “Fabulous,” Mrs. White said. “I would hate to break up the club. One moment.” She retrieved a long cardboard cylinder from one of the worktables, uncapped it, and removed a rolled-up sheet of paper. Flattening the paper on a table, she revealed the blueprints to the William P. Colson