The third instalment in the Magic Crystals series, following the events of 'The Seventh Sorcererâ and 'Rock Haulterâ.<br><br>With great power may come great responsibility, but in the case of our heroic Chopville teens, it also comes with a great big target. As they are to discover, having the Magic Crystals does not ensure their safety—in fact, quite the opposite.<br><br>A dark force is gathering around Chopville, far more dangerous than Moran could have ever been. A dangerous enemy will show his murderous hand early on; a trusted ally will defect to the dark side; and John and some of his friends will be taken captive and subjected to unspeakable horrors.<br><br>And through all of it, a great mystery looms darkly over John, which he must solve in order to have any hope of staying alive.
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Stephen Hayes. Hunt and Power
Prologue
Part 1: Happy Birthday. Chapter 1: The Pact
Chapter 2: Detention with the Devil
Chapter 3: The Midnight Meeting
Chapter 4: Inside the Box
Chapter 5: Knowledge Can’t Buy Me Balls
Chapter 6: Powers of Persuasion
Chapter 7: The Party
Chapter 8: The Broken Law
Part 2: In the Basement. Chapter 9: Anticipation
Chapter 10: Raid
Chapter 11: Killer
Chapter 12: On Display
Chapter 13: The Top Level
Chapter 14: Antagonist
Chapter 15: Lockdown
Chapter 16: Safety
Part 3: Operation Repropertisation. Chapter 17: Triangles
Chapter 18: The Invisible People
Chapter 19: Hiding
Chapter 20: The Mystery Woman
Chapter 21: Exploration
Chapter 22: Capture
Part 4: Chopville High. Chapter 23: Mind Surfing
Chapter 24: School
Chapter 25: The Gym
Chapter 26: The End Game
Chapter 27: The Aftermath
Chapter 28: Between
Part 5: Woodward Ascendance. Chapter 29: Doing a Playman
Chapter 30: The Prison Block
Chapter 31: The Rich Bitch
Chapter 32: Planning
Chapter 33: Dominoes
Chapter 34: The Guilty One
Part 6: Penetration. Chapter 35: Slipping Spirits
Chapter 36: The Flying Capsules
Chapter 37: The Hanging Cage
Chapter 38: The Carcornitt
Chapter 39: The Undoer
Chapter 40: Resolution
Epilogue
The Magic Crystals Series
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Aside from school, this was probably one of the largest gatherings of teenagers our little country town had ever had. Chopville had never been much of a site for raucous parties that spilt out into the streets at 3 in the morning, after all. There were twenty-eight of us sitting in a neat circle around the room, unnaturally quiet and orderly for a group of teenagers our size. Fittingly, within our circle, we had begun to call ourselves the 'Young Army'. Anyone introduced to the group could be forgiven for struggling to memorise names and match them with faces—especially as there were a few of us who looked nearly alike. But due to the fact that I’d known some of them all my life, while the others had entered in dribs and drabs, I could tell them all apart quite easily.
I was sitting with my brother Peter and James Thomas, who was as good as a brother (he had lived next door to us all our lives), along with my sister Nicole and James’s sisters, Felicity and Jessica. Harry and Simon Maivis, a couple more of my best mates, were sitting with their girlfriends, Katie Knight and Sophie Crow, who were also joined by their friends—Serena Forgrey, Kylie Cunkourd and Erica Tyanon. With me so far? Well, past Jessica sat two of her friends, Natalie Fletcher and Lisa Pont. Then there were a couple of people who had more recently become a part of the group by way of being forced to camp with us during the week: year-nine boys Craig Hardy, David Rockson, Daniel Dasher and Liam Stammerus; and year-tens Sebastian Williams, Lena Tuck, Darcy Bolter and Jane Hammer. Then, most importantly, grouped around the entrance to the room sat the nucleus of the Young Army: Marc and Lucien Moran, Tommy Blue, Amelia Woodward and Stella Hammerson.
.....
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The first people I saw when I got in the house were William and Carl. They were watching television in the Playman lounge room and commenting on how much it had changed since the ‘70s. It was good to have my grandfather and James’s grandfather back in the family; I had always wondered about them and had imagined them to be like Dad and Charlie. Dad and Charlie had changed a bit too; they just seemed so much happier than usual, as though the rest of the world’s troubles could go to buggery as far as they were concerned. I was happy for them, but I was finding the experience rather awkward.
