Power of the Musea

Prologue: An American in London

"Children!" a shrill voice carried over the excited mumblings of the students. Their voices suddenly stopped, and the hotel lobby became quiet. "Now, we're taking the underground to the Royal Festival Hall today. The underground will be very crowded and there is a chance that you could get separated from the group. If that happens, I'm counting on you to be mature enough to find a Police Officer or someone to get you to the Hall. You are to stay in pairs at all times, and all of you have the hotel name and address if you need it."

The teacher looked over the now-whispering group and sighed. "I don't think they heard a word I said," she whispered to herself, shaking her head. "What possessed me to bring a group of American high schoolers to London?"

In the middle of the group, a redhead looked at a pair of chattering classmates next to her.

"Listen, guys, Mrs. Miswick is trying to explain what we're doing. Stop talking and listen."

The blondes, one real and one dyed, looked up at her. "We're just going to tour another boring concert hall." The dyed blonde rolled her eyes. "It's not like she's telling us anything important."

"Melanie?" The redhead turned to the natural blonde, looking for support.

"It's okay, Helen," Melanie assured her. "She's just repeating the same things that she told us last night. She has to say it all again for the idiots that are here with us."

"Like Tommy and Ryan," her friend added, giggling. "I heard that they have to retake sophomore English."

"With Ms. Demlin? Sophie, are you serious?" Melanie asked in disbelief. "How can anyone fail Ms. Demlin?"

Their attention was drawn away as Helen loudly cleared her throat. Melanie and Sophie looked up and saw their classmates filing out of the hotel lobby.

"Here we go," Sophie said unenthusiastically as they followed their classmates out. As they stepped outside into the fresh summer air, Sophie took a dramatic deep breath. "Just think about it, Melanie, we're no longer lowly underclassmen. Next year we'll be juniors-good lockers, prom-we're on our way to the top." She ran her manicured fingers through her perfectly dyed hair.

"Hurry up, you two, you're falling behind," Helen hissed at them. Sophie rolled her eyes and made a face when Helen turned her face back to the front of the group.

"Why is she such a teacher's pet?" Sophie complained.

"You're being unfair."

"She's been doing this all trip! Nothing we do has been right. Why did we have to get assigned to her room?"

"Because we were late and didn't sign up until the last day."

"That wasn't our fault! Can I help it if we were with the basketball team at state finals?"

Melanie laughed. "You didn't seem to care when we found out we were rooming with her."

"Well, she's been worse than normal on this trip. You know why she's been like this, though, don't you?"

"Enlighten me, Sophie."

"It's because she wants to prove once and for all that she is better than you."

"What?"

"Seriously, she's been on our case ever since you got a higher grade than she did in chemistry."

"Why would she care?"

"Because Miss Valedictorian can't stand to be second to someone, especially a cheerleader!"

"And a blonde cheerleader, to boot, I bet," Melanie added with a laugh.

"C'mon, Melanie, anyone can see she's jealous. You're pretty, popular, and smart on top of it all."

Melanie laughed as they descended into the station.

"Now remember to stay in partners," Mrs. Miswick instructed them as they boarded the train. "We'll be getting off in three stops."

Sophie rolled her eyes. "It's not like we've never been on a subway before. We've only taken a field trip to some museum in New York City every year of our lives."

Melanie nodded her agreement as they began to move. They soon came to their stop, and Melanie and Sophie followed their class out. As they approached the stairs up to the street, a cloaked figure suddenly walked in front of them, separating them from the rest of their group. By the time the figure cleared their path they could no longer see their classmates.

"Where'd they go?" Sophie asked worriedly.

"Don't worry," Melanie quickly assured her, pulling her up the stairs. "We're at the right stop. We just need to find the concert hall once we get up to the street. It should be close."

When they reached the street, they still couldn't find their class, but Melanie spotted a police officer at the end of the street and started to pull Sophie along.

Suddenly a man with the worst fashion sense in the world bumped into them. He looked down at them from under a straw hat that clashed beautifully with his purple spotted polo shirt and striped khaki pants. "Lost?" he sneered.

Melanie tried to pull Sophie away from him, but Sophie resisted.

"We're looking for the Royal Festival Hall," Sophie told him.

"Oh, it's right down that alley," he crooned at them, pointing down a dark alley.

"Sophie, no," Melanie whispered as Sophie started to walk down the alley.

"What? This is the way to the hall."

"I wouldn't trust him, he looks fishy."

"Just because the English don't have a sense of style? C'mon," Sophie told her as she pulled an unwilling Melanie down the alley.

Their path was suddenly blocked by yet another large, caped figure. Melanie looked up at him in fear as he pulled out a long, thin object and pointed it at them. An evil grin spread across his face.

"Avada murim," he commanded. There was a brilliant flash of red light, and Melanie blacked out.