Myth's Legend: Norrix

by Ysobella Black

  “So you knew.” Norrix’s mind spun. “You knew to send the valkyries. You knew about the attempted rape. You knew the war would come. And you did all this... why? To punish Math?”

  “You mark my words. Nobody will ever really like math, anyway.”

  Bastian snorted.

  “But the war. It was just a means to an end?”

  “Now watch. We’re getting to the important part.”

  The black clouds kept pace above the wave.

  “You could still stop this. They’re all going to die.”

  “What do you think of that wave? The biggest you've ever Witnessed?”

  Norrix nodded.

  “If you could wash off all the blood from my hands, it would make a wave even bigger. It would fill an entire ocean. As many people who are about to die here, don't come to a fraction of the ones I've watched die. You watch because you are the Witness. I watch because of what I can’t do. Albion must become an island for the rest of the pieces to line up. We tried the other way before. It’s always worse. So, for those in the future, this is the best I can do. For those below, watching is the least I can do.”

  “But so many. All dead.”

  “That's what the world will think.” She bounced the gurgling baby. “But it's really all but one.”

  ”Another child you've pulled out of time?”

  “No. He'll live a normal life with parents who love him.”

  “Then why save him?”

  “Because this little guy is going to be the ancestor of three very important lines. A hero, a knight, and a queen.”

  “Will I Witness any of them?”

  She nodded. “The queen will rule as a king and lead her people against a mightier army. The knight will be a good friend to you.”

  “And the hero?”

  “This child's name will carry down through his family, won't it, Arthur?”

  “How long from now?”

  “Oh, not any time soon. It will be another six thousand years or so. We believe in planning for the future.”

  The baby kicked.

  “And we all just dance for you?”

  “You can believe I control everything and everyone. That I arranged for this wave. You can even go further, and think I arranged for the great-grandparents of the king who thinks a woman should hold his feet to come live here, or, you can accept I've seen it all happen three hundred times and can play the odds. I can usually tell what someone will decide to do.”

  The wave raced over a low valley, drowning trees, animals, and humans alike before slamming into Albion with a boom that shook the heavens. The sea replaced land for miles inward. When the water receded, where the valley used to be, there was a new ocean, turning Albion from a peninsula into a new island.

  “Bye, bye ,Gwynedd.”

  “So that's just a side effect? You really needed all this death and destruction to hide the fact that one baby lived?”

  “The wave was happening whether I caused it right now or not. It works out better if I'm the one to make it happen now.”

  “But... why?”

  Her shoulders slumped. “Now that you are a changed one, you’re going to be drawn into the fight against mages. They are vile. They are brutal. They are sadistic. And the magic that made them cannot die. Yet. On every world there is a dominion like them. And behind all of them is something... Other.

  “But, hear this, Witness. Someday, I’m going to get everything right. The pieces will line up, and when they are knocked down, the mages will fall, and with that, a cascade that weakens every similar influence on every other world. Remember, Norrix. The beginning of the end will come when you see with a child’s eyes again.”

  Norrix jolted from his reverie. A new island. Island. Aztlan. A new world. He’d long since stopped trying to figure out how his memory made associations. Eventually, the synapses fired in the correct order and provided him the information he needed.

  He sorted through the papers and books, fingers closing on a drawing of two men talking. Their faces had been crossed out, but one had a cloud over his head, the other feathered wings. Quetzalcoatl and Tlaloc. He flipped through the drawings of eclipses until he found one dated for tomorrow and studied the calculations. This eclipse would last for hours. Plenty of time to use the magic such an event would generate.

  Where I’m from, everything is all about the sun. His Dragă had told him that.

  The sun. It should be capitalized. The Sun.

  Norrix had to get Myth out of here now. The mage intended to use the obsidian blade to bring the Sixth Sun into being. The first five had been bloodbaths, and there was no reason to think this one would be any different.

  Jumping to his feet, Norrix stepped towards the door, stopping as he heard an army of heartbeats approaching, and the scent of apples. Myth was coming this way too. Norrix glanced around for a place to hide.

  CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

  IQIOHR

  IQIOHR STEPPED ONTO the dock, seized his Esne's arm and pulled it close. “You've been disobedient. You will be punished.”

  It squeezed the little witch. “I... I just wanted to see her. I did as you asked and brought you the knife.”

  Maybe he could have forgiven that. Maybe. But his Esne had crossed lines tonight, and now lied. Not even a good lie. He deliberately let it wander to see what it would do, and now it had failed him for the last time. Iqiohr narrowed his eyes to slits. “It. What you have in your arms is an it. You have done as I asked, yes, but you also did many things I did not ask. Someone remove it from the Esne. Try not to inflict too much damage. Touching is permitted.”

  The little witch buried its face in his Esne’s neck, body shaking in silent sobs. He watched his men put their hands on the Esne and the little witch, waiting for the sense of possession to rise.

  Nothing.

  He felt nothing for either of them anymore.

  “No! Give her back!” The Esne showed some spirit, yanked the little witch back and jerked away, taking two steps and turned, preparing to jump into the lake. He laughed. Esnes couldn’t swim. But it didn’t jump. Instead, it extended a hand.

  A glint of metal glowed between its fingers. A key.

  He should have thought of that before. If it had a separate room in Ashana, there would be an additional key. The fact that his Esne would try to hide something from him never occurred to him. It never had before.

  Betrayal, Tezcatlipoca murmured.

  If the portal to Ashana was opened here and now, it would destroy the palace and he’d have to change bodies. He’d be too weak for the ceremony of the Sixth Sun world.

  “Grab its wrist! Do not let it turn the key!”

  Apan bent the Esne’s fingers backward until it cried out. A second acolyte ripped the little witch away, and the copper key dropped to the wooden planks, bouncing twice before going over the edge with a tiny splash.

  The Esne’s screams tore at what was left of his humanity and pleased him at the same time. Such a strange sensation. The other mages had always taken pleasure in an Esne’s pain, but he never had before.

  With the little witch taken away, the Esne fought more fiercely. It lashed out with kicks and punches. A guard fell into the water with a yell. Men grunted and increased their efforts to restrain it.

  One man kicked the Esne’s feet, and the others pinned it down to the dock on its back, arms and legs outstretched.

  “What has become of the Esne who watched me so adoringly?” Iqiohr knelt between its legs. “I once found you in a similar position, did I not? I saved you then.”

  Even now the Esne refused to look at him, twisting around to keep the little witch in view.

  Betrayal! Tezcatlipoca raged in Iqiohr’s head. It must pay! We will have our revenge on all the betrayers tomorrow.

  For once, all the mages agreed. “I had no idea there was so much fight in you, Esne. I thought you broken years ago, but maybe having a spirited Esne would be entertaining for a while.” He slid one hand up its thig
h. “Have you had another man, Esne?” With nothing else to offer, that was the only explanation for how the knife was now in his possession.

  “There's only ever been one man for me.”

  His Esne spat the words at him, but he felt the truth in them. And that man wasn’t him, in spite of everything he’d done to give it an easy life. She was the reason he’d become the mage in the first place. He’d always tried to spare his Esne with the numbing gel. No more. It would feel all of him from now on. Iqiohr lunged forward, putting his mouth close to her ear. “You have always been clever with your words. That won’t help you now.”

  He unsheathed the obsidian knife and slid the sharp blade down the thin material of the white dress from collar to waist. Iqiohr used his free hand to part the sections, exposing its breasts to all his men. The Esne closed its eyes.

  “No, no, Esne. You know you have to watch or I will make it worse.” Iqiohr extended his arm, holding his hand flat. A white scorpion took shape in his palm, tail lashing. It scurried from his hand to the Esne’s chest and crawled to its neck.

  Iqiohr cupped one of its breasts, squeezing it hard. The flash of pain and muffled cry made him catch his breath. Pleasure. He’d not felt pleasure like that before. “That is nothing compared to the pain I can inflict.”

  Yes. The mages in his head pushed forward, their combined desires sending lust through him. Feed us its pain.

  The scorpion struck, sinking its stinger deep in the Esne's throat. Its body bowed, back arching off the wooden planks and a scream tore from its lips. It slumped, having lost all control over its muscles.

  Stroking its cheek, he tipped its face back, so it had no choice but to look at him. “I can manifest scorpions all night,” he murmured. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll find out I’ve been going about things the wrong way all these years. Maybe I should have been offering you pain to try to get your magic to come out all these years.”

  Iqiohr rose to his feet and led the way into his palace. “Bring the witches.”

  How to punish the Esne for its betrayal? He’d have to think of something creative to do with the little witch. Perhaps restore its voice and make it scream.

  Sacrifice. Tezcatlipoca's magic surged. It will sacrifice for us.

  It may carry a son.

  Yes, Tezcatlipoca agreed. And if that is the case, we don't need the daughter.

  That thought stopped Iqiohr cold as he reached the top of the stairs. A tiny part of him rebelled at the idea, but the mages clamored over his objection.

  Think of the power.

  The punishment fits.

  There is no more powerful blood in all of Aztlan.

  The perfect final sacrifice to begin the Sixth Sun.

  Yes. The little witch was a creation five generations in the making, but Iqiohr could breed the Esne again. That was its only use, after all.

  He resumed his walk, coming to another stop when the doors to his private chambers came into view. “Where are the guards?” he demanded. “I have been lenient so everyone can prepare for the ceremony, but there must always be a watch on my door.”

  “Yes, Scorpion Mage.” One man bowed. “I will find the two who have abandoned their duty and bring them to the pyramid tomorrow.”

  “Give me the Esne.”

  Inside his informal throne room, Iqiohr stood next to his desk and held the Esne against him in a parody of an embrace between lovers. “You allowed two men and a woman to touch you. You caused the death of one of my soldiers in Ashana. You went into a man's room. You tried to leave me tonight. Your whole life I have taken care of you.” He splayed a palm over her abdomen. “If I knew for sure you didn’t carry my son, I would flay you and cut out your traitorous heart. But it’s too soon to tell, so I’ll have to punish the little Esne instead.”

  He opened a desk drawer, rummaged around, and threw chains at Apan.

  “Collar and cuff the little witch. It’s better to stamp out these streaks of rebelliousness sooner rather than later. Return it to the boy. Tell him to house his pet properly this time. If he cannot control it, I will find someone who can.”

  “Yes, Scorpion Mage.” Apan fastened the metal around the little witch’s neck and wrists.

  Its mouth opened in a silent scream and the Esne, even through the paralytic poison, flinched.

  As Apan carried the little witch to Tizoc, Iqiohr hauled the Esne into his arms and entered its cell. He dropped the Esne onto the cot, turned and left.

  Let the Esne think this the punishment. The devastation tomorrow would be all the sweeter.

  FRIDAY,

  DECEMBER 13

  CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

  MYTH

  MYTH WISHED SHE COULD vomit. The chains. Fable was too young for the chains. They cut access to magic. Bound, Myth's magic had sparked against the enforced constriction. With Fable's magic fully free, although silent, what was she feeling?

  She hated not-Iqiohr with every ounce of feeling she could muster. And she knew it was not-Iqiohr in charge at the moment. Maybe as a result of reading part of the Book of Thoth with Norrix, but whoever was wearing Iqiohr’s body at the moment had a black and yellow stripe across his eyes.

  Struggling against the poison’s paralytic affects only made it spread faster and burn hotter inside her, but the idea of Fable in pain because Myth failed... Nantli! Nan —” Fable's thoughts, cut off as the collar clicked around her neck, hurt Myth's ears more than the loudest wail could.

  Fable taken and suffering. The key to their Ashana sanctuary lost in the depths of the lake. Norrix alone somewhere in Aztlan. Why did she have to meet Norrix? While the other witches here didn't like her, the life she had was tolerable because she felt nothing. Then, in a few hours, Norrix had shown her pleasure — not his, but hers. She told herself she'd had to endure him, but he hadn't allowed that, making her choose to be with him and feel things. He touched her without fear. He made her see the possibility of another kind of life.

  And she was afraid it was going to be the cause of her death. Although if she hadn't met him, she might already be dead, having to return from Ashana without the knife.

  In contrast, now her body lay twisted as Iqiohr left her, unable to move except for dread running rampant in her mind. Myth wondered about possibilities. There could be no returning to her life of numbness with the Scorpion Mage now. She still had Norrix's key. While she lived, there was a chance. If Iqiohr wanted to see her spirited, she'd fight. This was the time to risk everything.

  Before her mother disappeared, she said Myth would question everything one day. When that day came, and not before, Myth should use her magic. Once she did, she would no longer be able to hide it from the Scorpion Mage.

  Well, Myth had never had so many questions as she did right now.

  And ever since Ember crashed into Myth, and she heard that voice in her head, she'd sensed another kind of magic. Not hers, but around her, waiting for her to do something.

  Telepathy was a gift carried down through the women in her family, and only worked between them. Her true magic was Seeking. Focusing on the pull in her soul she'd always ignored, she asked her question and wished for the magic to seek her answer.

  She visualized a big bow, like on one of the presents Norrix had given her, and tugged on a loose end. Big loops of ribbon shifted and parted, allowing a lilac shimmer to flow.

  Her magic surged, elated to be free, eager to help. Silver magic swirled around hers. It added strength to her Seeking, carrying it farther, crossing worlds.

  A woman with golden-blonde hair and green eyes sat at a dining room table in a kitchen, eating something from a small container. She wore grey pajamas and waved. “Hi, Myth. I'm Musette. Ember told me about you when she returned from Ashana. I'd hug you, because I'm a hugger, but I don't think you are. Welcome to Dragă space. Have a seat. Ice cream?”

  Myth stared at the blonde in utter confusion. This... was not at all what she thought was supposed to happen. Maybe the silver magic had made her magic go awry.
Maybe Seeking wasn't as straightforward as she thought it would be, or she needed to practice.

  A smug and expectant sensation carried through her from her magic, but she wasn't at all sure this woman was a fount of wisdom with the answers Myth needed. The stories she knew had led her to expect an old man or woman on a remote mountaintop who spoke in riddles. “Dragă space? Ice cream?” This woman might have the riddles part right.

  Musette waved her spoon. “If we're going to be friends, you're going to need to understand about ice cream. Maybe not Dragă space, since I don't fully understand that myself yet, and this is Ember's Dragă space, not mine. As far as I know, being able to create a place like this is unique to Dragăs and we can be more than one place at a time. But ice cream is important.” Musette offered a second spoon, one that appeared out of thin air, to Myth, waited until she sat at the table, and pushed the container towards her.

  It was strange to be talking with another witch, especially one so friendly. Myth hesitantly scooped some ice cream onto her spoon and tasted it. A trio of flavors burst in her mouth — vanilla, chocolate, and peanut butter. Letting the vanilla melt on her tongue, she chewed the chunk of candy slowly and swallowed. “I think I understand about ice cream.”

  “Right?” Two mugs appeared on the table. Musette pushed one to Myth. “It's Cocoa Day, too. Drink up. The marshmallows are yummy.”

  “Cocoa Day?”

  “I think every day should have a reason to celebrate. Yesterday was Gingerbread House Day. December 13th is Cocoa Day. It's also Violin Day, but those are not as delicious.” Musette lowered her voice, held a finger to her lips, and leaned forward. “Don't tell the violins.”

  Musette's enthusiasm was infectious, and Myth couldn't stop a smile. “Is it Ice Cream Day, too?”