Cragbridge Hall, Book One: The Inventor's Secret by Chad Morris

simple chair with a tall back. It was made of cedar wood and lined in places with a dark metal. “This chair,” she said, “is another of Oscar Cragbridge’s inventions. The Chair will unlock what really goes on inside your mind.” She pointed to a blonde girl. “For example, Carol, please step forward.”
    Carol responded quickly. “Um ... how did you know my name? Not that a teacher shouldn’t know my name, but I was just a little surprised. It is our first class with you.” She spoke rapidly, without stopping to breathe between sentences.
    “I simply studied your picture in the registry,” Ms. Entrese said. “I’ve studied all of your pictures and all of your names.” She rattled off several names of students in class. “I used my mind.” Ms. Entrese patted the Chair. “Now, have a seat.”
    Carol walked to the front of the class. “What do I do? Is the Chair going to tell me my future or electrocute me or something? I guess it wouldn’t kill me, because then you’d be in huge trouble, because—”
    “Just sit,” Ms. Entrese interrupted. “And think.”
    “About what?” Carol asked. “Because if I’m thinking about trying to think, I don’t think it will work very well. Wow, I said the word think a lot there. Sorry for the repetition.” Carol’s hands moved in quick gestures as she spoke. She sat down before continuing. “Or should I think about something completely random, like a buffalo in a tutu?” Suddenly on the screen behind Carol, an image appeared of a buffalo curtseying in a pink tutu. The class gasped and clamored with excitement.
    Carol whirled around to see her imagination in action. “What? You can see my thoughts? That’s awesome!” She paused for a moment, and the buffalo grew a clown nose and huge shoes. Then it sprouted a purple afro and began an amazingly agile disco dance. The class laughed and cheered.
    “That’s enough, that’s enough,” Ms. Entrese said, blowing a stray hair out of her eyes.
    Carol began prattling on again. “So if I think about the trip I took with my parents to Cancun, or the time when Ben Tristen kissed me in the third grade, which, I might add, wasn’t as bad as I anticipated—I thought it would be all slobbery and stuff ...” The corresponding images appeared on the screen. “Or my first night here.” Carol appeared, unpacking her things. Then another image of her talking with a roommate. Abby just hoped Carol hadn’t been one of the girls who witnessed Jacqueline kicking her out of her room last night. She didn’t want that on the screen for the whole class to see.
    “Yes,” Ms. Entrese said. “Exactly. The Chair could be used for many purposes—”
    “You could interview criminals with this thing,” Carol interrupted. A new image appeared: a man with a blond beard and scraggly hair seated in front of a police officer. “Or even better, you could interview cute boys.” Now the screen showed several boys, including one who sat in the back corner of the room. The class erupted.
    “Calm down, calm down,” Ms. Entrese said. “The situations you described may or may not be useful. The person in the Chair still controls their mind, and if they are bright enough, there would be no way of knowing whether they are showing the truth or something imagined.” She sighed for a moment, looking tired of explaining. “The Chair is useful here at the academy to show literature.” She handed Carol a book. “Read the marked passages.”
    Carol looked down, cleared her throat, and began to read:
    “‘Second to the right, and straight on till morning.’”
    Abby recognized the words almost instantly, and apparently, so did Carol. A boy, wearing a mix of animal skins and leaves, with curly auburn hair, stood on the screen. Abby smiled as she realized that the boy had the same face as the boy in the back of corner of the room that Carol thought was cute.
    “Wait for a moment,” Ms. Entrese said. “Notice how this image isn’t nearly