How Issue 1050 Almost Missed the Press

     The chatter that rose above every cubicle was excited, yet focused. A banner that glittered with light faerie magic proudly declared, ‘Issue 1050!’ with golden streamers. Sparkling posters hung from the wall underneath the clock that ticked toward eleven o’clock at night. A little over an hour before deadline.

     Below the banner was a table that tempted everyone all night—cupcakes, cakepops, lollys, and a five-tiered cake. Unlit sparklers stuck out of the cake at every layer waiting for the right moment—a midnight-type moment—to be lit.

     Milestone energy.

     Arethusa—one of The Neopian Times’s investigative reporters, spun in her chair and shook her work computer awake. Tonight, she wasn’t on deadline, but reported to the office to help with milestone duties. Her duties that night had already included rushing memos from department to department, and herding the delivery Weewoos with the help of her own Weewoo sidekick, Alpheias.

     Now, that said Weewoo hopped around Arethusa’s desk as she glanced down at her notebook bursting with new ideas she wanted to investigate in the coming year. While she was brimming with creative energy thanks to the bustle of everyone around her, her articles took time. She had just come off a month-long investigation into a suspiciously unregulated Bottled Faerie market.

     Opening up her notebook, she noticed Lost Desert was written and circled. She believed her next article would take her there if her editor, Gridela Cooke, approved it.

     But that was for another day. Her editor was rather preoccupied at the moment.

     Arethusa twirled once again in her chair, the rectangular fluorescent lights spinning above her.

     And then they flickered.

     The Desert Aisha’s eyes narrowed as the lights flickered once more. She poked her head above her cubicle and noticed other lights across the room flickering like a crashing wave up and down the aisles.

     Her editor’s assistant, Aria, a Polka Dotted Poogle poked her head up a few cubicles from Arethusa. Their eyes met and the Poogle sent her a question look. “Weird, right?”

     Arethusa nodded. “Maybe the printers are working overtime tonight.”

     Just as she was about to return to her work, a loud whizzing accompanied by a bright burst of red erupted in the office. Arethusa ducked as a rogue, celebratory sparkler whizzed over her head, followed by a hoard of them. Gasps and yelps of surprise joined the noise as other reporters and proofreaders were alerted to the mishap. Had someone set them off too early?

     The intensity of the shouts increased even as the sound of the sparklers died out. Arethusa bravely stuck her head back up over her cubicle along with several others. She met their wayward gazes with the same confusion.

     “What was that all about?”

     Gridela Cooke, the White Zafara who edited all articles for The Neopian Times stood in the doorway of her office. Her blazer had a coffee stain ring over her left lapel and even from Arethusa’s distance, she could see her editor had paw-print smudges all over her glasses.

     Milestone… energy?

     Before anyone could reply, a terrible noise shook the building. Arethusa flung her arms over her ears at the sound of grinding and halting gears screeched with great effort before rumbling to a stop. A sickening feeling slid through Arethusa’s belly and she looked at Alpheias who fluffed his feathers with a quick jerk.

     No, that couldn’t be. Arethusa shook her head. Impossible.

     Across the room, Gridela held a grim expression.

     The doors to the main stairs burst open and a frazzled Blue Chia came rushing in. His once knotted tie was pulled askew and his white button-down shirt missed a few buttons from what Arethusa could tell.

     “The printers! They’ve—they’ve all stopped!” he yelled.

     Gasps of horror echoed throughout the room, one coming from Arethusa herself.

     “What?” Gridela shrieked as the Chia stopped in front of her. “How do printers just stop?”

     The Chia stammered, not prepared to answer questions he didn’t know the answer to. “I don’t know Ms. Cooke. They’ve just stopped. We can’t print Issue 1050!”

     “There’s another problem!” A shout came and a Pink Cybunny poked her head up from a cubicle. “Editorial just called. The final copy! Pages are rearranging themselves. Entire sentences are disappearing!”

     Alpheias tweeted up at her. He was right. Something was messing with the production of Issue 1050.

     Arethusa locked eyes with Gridela across the room. The editor pointed right at her. “Arethusa. You’re investigative. You’re fast. You don’t look terrified. Congratulations, you’re on this.”

     “This seems like magic,” Arethusa piped up, coming out from behind her cubicle to meet Gridela in the aisle. “Might be a little out of my depth.”

     “Sounds like you’re already onto something,” Gridela fired back. They stopped in front of her office door. “Find out the cause, Arethusa, or else Neopia won’t see Issue 1050.”

     “Uh—” Arethusa started, but Gridela didn’t hear her, ushering the Chia into her office and slamming it behind them.

     Alpheias fluttered over to her and rested on her shoulder.

     “If this is magic, and I sense that it is,” she told Alpheias, “then we should start our investigation down on the printing press floor.”

     The little Weewoo twittered his agreement and the two headed toward the doors, leaving the Writing Department in confused chaos.

     Arethusa opened the heavy doors into the basement that housed the Printing Department, only to be greeted with equal amounts of chaos. Neopets hovered around the multiple printing presses trying to figure out why they stopped. A Bruce with a toolbelt slung around his hips was tinkering in an open panel, and a Shoyru was flying around conveyor belts.

     “They sprouted out of nowhere,” a Faerie Hissi was saying as Arethusa approached a group. Her eyes widened as thick, overgrown vines stuck out of gears of the closest printing press. She and Alpheias shared a look. Magic indeed.

     An Ogrin with a thick pair of glasses under a hard hat was the Neopet she was looking for. She spotted him with a clipboard and a bewildered look.

     “Hi Franco,” Arethusa greeted the Lead Press Operator. They ran into each other frequently in the breakroom because they both had a slight addiction to the Diet Neocolas in the staff vending machines.

     “Oh, hey Arethusa,” Franco said and sighed. “If Gridela sent you, tell her I haven’t figured out how to fix the printers since she called down here twenty seconds ago.”

     Arethusa shook her head. “I’m not here for her. Well, she asked me to get to the bottom of what is causing all the mishaps. What has the magic been doing?”

     Every good investigator kept a pen and notepad with them, and Arethusa was a very good investigator. She pulled hers out, ready to jot down anything of importance that she needed to remember.

     Franco bent down and lifted up what looked to be a thick slab of bark. “These are what halted the printers.”

     He handed over the slab to Arethusa, who let out an audible oof as the weight settled into her arms. Alpheias fluttered his feathers at her shoulder. She studied the thick slab of bark, and could very faintly make out The Neopian Times header at the top.

     “Papers fused together. Something this thick can’t go through the presses,” Franco filled in for her.

     Hmmm. A newspaper that resorted back to its original material—bark from a tree. The magic being used here had a sense of humor.

     “Do you have any idea who would do this?” Arethusa asked. Was it a curse? A spell? Bewitched paper? Who had an axe to grind with The Neopian Times? Arethusa herself came up blank. The paper was a beloved feature throughout Neopia.

     “Not a clue, but if it’s a prank? We need to resolve it soon, or else no one will get their paper tomorrow.” Franco’s words were unsettling. Never had an issue not gone to print. He reached out and patted Arethusa’s shoulder. “I better get back to the printers.”

     Franco left to rejoin the group closest to the printing presses, leaving Arethusa with the fused paper weighing heavily in her arms. It did feel like a prank, but on a higher, magical scale. Hijinks were more like it. Whoever was behind it enjoyed watching everyone scramble about.

     Arethusa remembered how Penelope, the Pink Cybunny upstairs in the Writing Department, had said she got a call that the finalized copy of Issue 1050 had started changing.

     “Time for us to go visit the Editorial and Archives Department,” Arethusa told Alpheias, who chirped his agreement.

     “Watch out!” a voice called to her the moment she opened the doors to the Editorial and Archives Department.

     Arethusa was shoved so hard out of the way that Alpheias took flight to take cover. Behind her, a large file box crashed to the floor, scattering the contents—which consisted of stacks of bound pages—across the floor. It joined the numerous other pieces of paper that covered the entire floor.

     “Sorry about that, Arethusa. They’ve been quite literally flying off the shelves since the printers stopped.” Maribel, a Pastel Bori, offered her paw to help Arethusa up.

     “No, it’s ok. Thank you. What is going on here?” Arethusa asked, Alpheias returning to her shoulder from wherever he hid.

     “First, sentences from the final copy started disappearing,” Maribel said and guided Arethusa away to a safe distance from the shelves. “Then, the boxes started falling from the archives.”

     At the center of the room, the editorial staff crowded around computers with hunched backs as they frantically tried to fix the final copy. Arethusa hesitantly looked up at the shelves before swiping up a few stray papers.

     “What were in the boxes?” she asked as she studied the papers. Each one had a red stamp at the top in capital letters that spelled out “TMGE.”

     “Too many good entries,” Arethusa mumbled to herself. It was a standard rejection phrase for the pieces that didn’t make it into an issue. She glanced around the floor littered with pages upon pages. Now, she noticed red stamp marks on all of them. “All rejections are archived?”

     Maribel nodded. “Of course! All pieces are worthy to be saved.”

     Arethusa twisted her lips at the wreck of the room. Before this moment, Arethusa only thought past issues were archived here. But, only the boxes that were filled with rejections had flown from the shelves. Could the person behind this be a disgruntled writer?

     Again, she needed to figure out what kind of magic they were dealing with.

     Alpheias tweeted in her ear.

     “You’re right!” she told her petpet. “We need to get to the Logistics and Supply department pronto!”

     Arethusa turned on her heel and headed back toward the doors.

     “Where are you going?” Maribel called after her. “I thought you came down to help with clean-up!”

      Arethusa believed that every department within The Neopian Times building was filled with chaos—and she had only visited three of them so far. The Logistics and Supply department was no different.

      “Why would we deliver one hundred copies to Queen Fyora?” asked a Draik to an Usul and held up a piece of paper.

      “Well, this one has Queen Amira’s palace address at the Snowager’s cave!” the Usul replied.

      As Arethusa walked down the center aisle toward the coordinator’s post, she picked up similar conversations of odd flying routes to get to Darigan Citadel, to a Meepit delivery service deep in the Haunted Woods.

      Vessa, an Air Faerie that coordinated everything to do with deliveries, sat behind her desk. She rubbed her temples with her fingertips and Arethusa swore the faerie’s eyes went cross as she stared down at a binder. When the faerie noticed Arethusa approaching, she smiled weakly.

      “Gridela doesn’t even know what’s going on here yet,” she said by way of greeting. “Even if the presses are fixed, I have no idea how we are going to deliver the issue when all our routes and delivery schedules are messed up. And I haven’t even mentioned the Weewoos yet.”

      Alpheias tilted his head to the side.

      “What about the Weewoos?” Arethusa asked.

      Vessa waved a hand before running it through her long blonde hair. “You don’t want to know.”

      “Magic is doing this,” Arethusa stated. “And I think you’re the only one here that can help me.”

      Vessa’s delicate blue wings flapped with hope. “How so?”

      Arethusa motioned to Vessa’s clipboards with incorrect routing information. “Your messed up delivery schedule, Editorial is dodging flying boxes of rejections, and the Printing Department has ground to a halt with magical vines and paper that has reverted back to bark. This is clearly more than a wayward potion, or some silly hijinks. It takes major magic to effect so many things in such a specific way.”

      Vessa’s lips pursed in thought. “It does take quite powerful magic to pull something like this off. Not a simple spell someone could buy at a magic shop or from spellcasters around Neopia…”

      “Do you have any idea who could be behind it?” Arethusa asked, hopeful that the faerie could solve this.

      With a shake of her head, Vessa opened her mouth to speak but her gaze caught on something going on down the aisle. Arethusa turned around to see hundreds of White Weewoos bursting through the open door. They zipped and flew around, high toward the ceiling and bounced off of the fluorescent lights. They twittered and whooted, and raced each other around the room before tipping over stacks of papers piled high on desks.

      Alpheias shook with laughter on her shoulder.

      “What happened to them?” Arethusa shouted over the noise.

      Vessa’s hands settled on her hips as she shook her head at all the Weewoos. The stressed faerie said, “They were fed candy for their pre-flight meal instead of their usual grub. They’ve been hyperactive ever since.”

      Magical candy, no doubt.

      “Sorry, Arethusa, but I have to try and round them up,” Vessa said.

      Arethusa nodded but grabbed onto the faerie before she took flight. “Wait, you were about to tell me something.”

      Vessa’s brows furrowed before they shot up. “Oh! Right. Magic this powerful? The spellcaster must be nearby. Very nearby.”

      With a whoosh of her wings, Vessa was gone, leaving Arethusa and a tempted Alpheias on her shoulder. Vessa’s words sank in.

      Arethusa gasped before looking at her own White Weewoo. “Alphe… I think whoever is behind this… is in the building with us!”

      “Where would someone hide if they wanted to be left alone to cast a spell?” Arethusa murmured to herself as she hurried down the hallway. “Where would I hide?”

      Everyone was busy in their departments trying to stop one leak when another leak sprouted up. Even the hallways were mostly deserted aside from a few frazzled Neopets going from one department to another, much like her.

      Which left spaces like break rooms, bathrooms, and supply closets virtually empty. If someone wanted to cast their spells and not be bothered, a room no one would bother them was the perfect place.

      New energy surged through Arethusa. It was the same feeling she got when she knew all the pieces of her articles started coming together and falling into place.

      In a flurry, she started running to rooms and throwing open the doors.

      Second floor break room? Empty.

      Broom closet across from the framed first issue of The Times? Empty.

      The bathrooms around the corner? Empty. Well, aside from a very startled Elephante washing their hands.

      Alpheias chirped in her ear.

      “No, I haven’t thought about what I’m going to do when I found the culprit,” Arethusa replied. She hadn’t exactly thought that far ahead. If she did, she would have to confront that fact that she was one, simple investigative reporter that had never stood up against a spellcaster who could literally turn The Neopian Times upside down.

      Arethusa stopped to catch her breath. She was on the top floor and already, the hallway felt strange.

      A thick, cloying presence pressed heavily into her as she took a few steps down the hall.

      The supply closet on her left.

      Puffs of green smoke escaped from beneath the door. Well, that had to be the source, or else it was a very moldy mop.

      But what to do now?

      Her gaze snagged on a clock hanging down from the center of the hall.

      11:35.

      There was no time. Either she confront the person behind the door, or Issue 1050 wouldn’t be.

      Arethusa’s paw came down on the door knob. With one quick inhale for bravery, she pulled the door open.

      The cluttered supply closet radiated magic. Cleaning supplies vibrated on their shelves. Ink from pens and quills dripped upward toward the ceiling. Labels that had once been neat and tidy swapped places with other labels from other shelves.

      And at the center of the closet was the source of the spell. Calm, cool, and collected as she muttered her spell to keep the chaos going.

      “Edna?” Arethusa asked.

      The Green Zafara turned her knowing eyes on Arethusa and momentarily stopped her chanting.

      “Hmph! I didn’t think anyone would find me before midnight. Do not interfere, young Aisha! My spell is almost complete,” the witch said.

      “Why are you casting a spell at all?” Arethusa asked, stepping into the supply closet and fully aware Edna could turn her into a Slorg if she desired. Alpheias let out a low, warning whistle that she ignored. “Everything is being destroyed! The printers stopped working, the final copy is rearranging itself, the delivery routes are switched around, And well, the Weewoos…”

      Edna chuckled at that.

      “I’m not trying to destroy The Neopian Times,” Edna said. “I’m only trying to stall it.”

      “But, why?” Arethusa asked. She had to keep Edna talking. If she could find a way to connect with the witch, perhaps Arethusa could convince her to stop what she was doing.

      Edna’s brows slammed down at the question. “Do you know how many times I’ve submitted to The Neopian Times?”

      Arethusa blinked. Not the direction she thought this was going to take. “How many?”

      “One thousand and fifty times. And do you know how many times I’ve been rejected?” she asked.

      Arethusa had a feeling she knew what Edna was about to say. Before she could even reply the witch continued.

      “One thousand and fifty times!”

      Magic flared around her and the floor beneath Arethusa’s feet trembled.

      “What have you submitted?” Arethusa asked, not sure how to comfort the witch. Maybe if she kept her talking, she’d be too distracted to continue the spell?

      “My recipes, of course!” Edna said like it should be obvious. “They are delicacies in the Haunted Woods.”

      Arethusa forced a smile. Recipes that she heard required toe lint, snot, and Spyder legs.

      “Maybe your recipes don’t have a broader appeal,” Arethusa offered. “I think each issue tries to appeal to the masses, so a lot of people can enjoy it.”

      Edna rolled her eyes, letting out another hmph!

      “But I don’t think you really want to ruin this issue,” Arethusa continued.

      “Is that so?” Edna asked and looked down at the spellbook she had open in her hand. Was Edna dismissing her already?

      “No! Because you know how important the news is to Neopia. That’s why you’ve tried so hard to get in! It means a lot to you, too.”

      Edna paused and looked back at Arethusa. “It used to.”

      Arethusa cringed inwardly. She didn’t believe that to be true. Deep down—maybe deep, deep down—Edna still cared about The Neopian Times and what it meant to others.

      Then, Arethusa had an idea that went off like a firework in her mind.

      “Have you thought of another avenue for others to read your recipes?” Arethusa asked.

      Again, the magic faltered.

      Edna narrowed her eyes, as if she was expecting Arethusa to pull a trick on her. “What are you talking about?”

      “A book!” Arethusa said enthusiastically, trying to sell the witch an idea that was a great one, but only If Edna thought so, too. “Or several, if you have that many recipes. Compile them into a book to publish. You’ll find a readership that can’t get enough of your delicacies.”

      “Hmph!” Edna said and twisted her lips in thought. “Edna’s Recipes Volume 1 has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

      Arethusa nodded. “It will look great on readers’ shelves.”

      Edna looked her over, dragging her emerald gaze up and down Arethusa from the tip of her ears to the bottom of her paws. She paused at Alpheias before shrugging and snapping her spellbook shut.

      “All right. You’ve convinced me. I have many ideas and shouldn’t delay.”

      Edna looked as if she was ready to leave. Arethusa looked around her. The spell was still going. Ink still dripped toward the ceiling. Brooms furiously swept in place. That could only mean the rest of the building was still in disarray.

      “Wait!” Arethusa said before Edna took her leave. “Could you reverse the spell? It’s almost midnight.”

      A weighted pause. Arethusa held her breath. Alpheias puffed his chest.

      “Oh, all right,” Edna huffed and gave a dramatic clap of her hands. “It would be a tragedy if the milestone issue was late.”

      “Thank you,” Arethusa sighed in relief, but she had no idea if Edna heard her. Green smoke puffed up around the witch and when it cleared, Edna was gone, along with all the magic that effected the supplies in the closet.

      Alpheias broke the silence with a chirp.

      “I can’t believe that worked either,” she agreed. “Let’s see if the magic is gone everywhere else.”

      And it was. The moment Arethusa returned to the Writing Department, the energy was different. No one hid from stray sparklers or ran down the aisle trying to fix a disappearing headline. Instead, exuberant expressions and celebratory high-fives between co-workers greeted her.

      Gridela came up to her with a smile. “You’ll have to tell me how you fixed this later.”

      Arethusa moved to the side as one of her co-workers marched by with the five-tier cake over his head. Finally, the cake could be had.

      “How do you know it was me?” Arethusa asked her editor.

      “Because I know I can count on you,” Gridela said with a wink that made Arethusa’s chest swell with pride.

      “And we’ll make deadline?” Arethusa asked.

      Gridela nodded. “When the spell broke, everything reverted back and the presses roared back to life. The Weewoos are being prepped for delivery as we speak. Now, go! Celebrate with everyone! Eat some cake!”

      As the clock struck midnight, Arethusa watched the Weewoos take flight with another successful milestone issue under their wings. She smiled up into the starry night sky.

      Later, when she heard reports that issues were being delivered to happy Neopians, Arethusa breathed a sigh of relief. She settled in to read her own copy with her best friend on her shoulder. They laughed at the comics and wrote down tips they learned from the articles. They nodded along to the short stories and exclaimed in frustrated sighs at the cliffhangers in the continuing series. Arethusa flipped to the back of the issue where there were ads, sponsorships, and the writing staff credits. She was about to fold the issue back up when a flash of green caught her eye in the staff credits section.

      Right below Gridela’s name, another name appeared and Arethusa smiled in disbelief.

      ‘Edna, Contributing Editor.’

     The End.