The Common King

by Brian Olsen

  “All the magical creatures. All of them, at once. Every member of every species.”

  The room goes quiet, except for Yasu snuffling at Mr. Ambrose’s palm.

  “I don’t think…” Mr. Liefer closes his mouth, then furrows his brow. “I don’t know what that would do.”

  “Would it be enough to break the Moment?” Alisa asks.

  He blows air out of his cheeks. “Millions of creatures? If they were all out, and they stayed out? I don’t know.”

  Mr. Ambrose rubs Yasu’s sides. “We designed the Moment specifically to create a world with no room for magic or magical creatures in it. The spell can bend a little without breaking, but that huge a public display…I think it might work.”

  “Why did he need to abduct anyone else, then?” Mrs. Deng asks. “If he had this magic book from the start, he could have done it right away.”

  “That’s right.” Alisa stands behind her mother’s chair. “If the Moment breaks, all his allies will get their memories back anyway. Everyone will.”

  “Not everyone,” Nate counters.

  Nate and his father didn’t experience the Moment. Neither did a couple billion other people. They didn’t exist in the world before. If the Moment breaks, and everything goes back to the way it used to be, they’ll vanish.

  Come to think of it, there was no “Chris Armstrong” before the Moment, either. Now that I’m my own person, I might vanish too.

  For a second, it looks like Liefer might try a comforting hand on Nate’s shoulder, but he wisely reconsiders. “There’s a reason the king chose the allies he did. He doesn’t do anything without a purpose.”

  “He needs Dante to hide,” I say. “And Kenny to amplify Dante’s magic. Jasmine and my mom were already on his side. Who else?”

  “Mrs. Kumar, Mr. Finlay, and Shonda,” Alisa answers.

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s it.”

  I close my eyes for a second. I know who Mrs. Kumar used to be. Jasmine showed her to me in a dream. “Mrs. Kumar was one of his generals, wasn’t she?”

  “Baroness Chand,” Liefer replies. “Tactical genius, but not a logomancer. I assume he took her to help rebuild his army.”

  “Maybe, but he doesn’t need an army to release the creatures…” I shake my head. “Shonda can conjure. What can Mr. Finlay do?”

  Andy answers, “Shapeshifter. He can turn into any magical species.”

  Alisa catches my eye. “So he probably knows a lot about them…”

  “And if Shonda can conjure the artifacts…”

  Her eyes widen. “Oh!”

  Mr. Montgomery looks at us both. “Where are you kids going with this?”

  “Strategy,” Alisa answers.

  “Right.” I tap the table again while I talk it through. “Just releasing all the creatures at once might not be enough. The artifacts are scattered randomly around the world. Some are in remote areas, without a lot of people.”

  “He’d want to place them where they’d attract the most attention,” Alisa continues. “Release large species in big cities. Unleash magical predators in nations’ capitals. Maybe set loose two types of creatures that don’t get along near each other, so they’ll fight. Cause as much chaos as possible.”

  Nate nods. “Like setting a blood-sucking lightning bird loose in a mall.”

  Liefer scratches his head. “I’m beginning to understand his reasoning. Finlay, to provide insight into the creatures’ habits and psychology. Kumar, to determine the most strategic locations to place them. And Shonda, to gather the artifacts. With Kenny’s amplification, she may not need to know their exact location to conjure them.”

  “The Common King can teleport and put the artifacts wherever he needs them,” I add, “then use the book to empty all of them at once.”

  Mr. Ambrose sits up straight, ignoring Yasu’s attention-seeking headbutts. “Apart from the elves, the magical species don’t even know what’s happened to them. They don’t know anything has changed. When they’re released into the modern world, who knows how they’ll react?”

  “People won’t ignore or forget something like that,” Mr. Montgomery adds. “I don’t care how strong your spell is.”

  “It’ll be everywhere.” Lily stands and walks around the table to her mom. “TV, online. Even if there are places without any creatures, the people there will still see them. They’ll see magic.”

  Mrs. Deng puts her arm around her daughter. “There’ll be panic. Fighting.”

  “War.” Mrs. Green puts her hands to her mouth. “It’ll be war.”

  Liefer shakes his head. “There won’t be time for war. The children are right. The Moment won’t survive the strain. It’ll shatter.”

  “What does that mean?” Mr. Montgomery’s eyes lock on Nate. “What exactly happens if this spell is broken, Liefer?”

  Liefer looks down at the table. “The world will be rewritten. Again. Restored to what it was.”

  “And we disappear.” Nate looks back at his father. “Us, and a couple billion other people. Vanish, like we never existed.” His shoulders slump. “Because we never really did.”

  “All right.” Alisa bunches some hair in her hands, then lets it drop. “We know what he’s planning.” She looks at each of us, in turn. “Now how are we going to stop him?”

  Liefer stiffens. “We’ll plan another mission, of course.” He raises his voice a little. Trying to take authority back from Alisa. “Priority one is finding them again. Then another raid to steal the book. We’ll be prepared for Shonda this time. Even amplified, her conjuring is no match for my ability to manipulate space.”

  “And what about the king?” Mrs. Green asks. “Without Chris in the floating room holding the king back, there’s nothing to keep him from killing you all. You’re not stealing my daughter away again and letting her get burned to nothing.”

  “Mom.” Alisa touches her mother’s arm. “He didn’t steal me away. I chose to go. We all did.”

  She glowers. “Without telling me or your father. Because you knew we’d say no.”

  Liefer groans. “Domestic disputes later, please. We’ll decide whose abilities are needed for the mission. But we don’t have to fear anyone being burned. Not with Chris back with us.” He nods at me. “You can make everyone fireproof. Immune to the Common King’s powers. We have that advantage now, at least.”

  Oh.

  “Yeah,” I say. “About that.”

  The room goes quiet again. Almost as quiet as it is inside my head.

  After the Moment, I could always hear the Logos. Sometimes a roar, usually a whisper, easy to ignore unless I listened. All logomancers hear it. It’s a hard sound to describe. I usually say it’s like every word in every language, all spoken at the same time, each in a different voice. But that doesn’t do it justice. When Mr. Miller was teaching me about magic, he said the Logos was communication. Logomancy is communicating your will onto the world with a single word. The sound in my head is the sound of perfect communication.

  Or, it was that sound.

  Now that the Common King and I are two different people, I can’t hear it at all.

  The first bit of logomancy I mastered was creating a tiny flame around my finger. Before long I could cast way more complicated spells without having to think about it, without even having to say my word aloud, but that was first.

  I hold up my hand.

  I want a jet of fire, extending from the base of the nail of my index finger to three inches above the tip. The flame should be warm, but not hot enough to burn.

  “Sun.”

  Nothing. Not even a flicker.

  “I’m sorry, everyone. The Common King is the logomancer. Not me.”

  I put my hand down.

  “My magic is gone.”

  Eleven

  “You want help breaking down that cot?” Nate asks me.

  I shake my head. “I’ll just sleep down here tonight.”

  He looks around the dingy basement. “Y
ou sure? Everybody sleeps upstairs. It’s way less creepy, plus it’s closer to the bathrooms.”

  Our little war council broke up without forming much of a plan of action, beyond Alisa saying she’d keep trying to find the hotel. Mrs. Green closed the museum for the day so now everybody else is busily moving the other cots and sleeping bags upstairs.

  “Yeah, I’m good,” I say. “I think I’d prefer the quiet.”

  Nate drops his sleeping bag. “Then I do, too.”

  “I’m good, Nate. You don’t have to babysit me.”

  “I’m not babysitting.” He shrugs. “My dad snores. I could use a break.”

  “Doesn’t your mom make him wear that thing on his face?”

  “Mom’s not here. She’s with Davey.”

  Davey is Nate’s older brother. He goes to college out in Washington state. “Right, you said. Why aren’t they here? You were going to tell me before but Mr. Ambrose cut us off.”

  “At first, we all hid out together, everybody’s immediate families. Not here – we bounced around a few places. But people got sick of being cooped up together. A bunch decided to take their chances in the real world. So they left, and the rest of us moved to the museum. None of them know where we are now. Just in case my ex does any nocturnal snooping.” Nate sighs and sits on the cot. “Davey decided to go. He was scared for his girlfriend back in Seattle. And Mom and Dad wouldn’t leave their kids unprotected, so Mom went with him while Dad stayed here with me.”

  I sit next to him. “Sorry. You must be worried about them.”

  “Yeah.” He kicks idly at his sleeping bag. “We talked about telling his girlfriend and bringing her here too. But then where do we draw the line? What about her family? Lily’s got cousins nearby. Do we bring them? Do we bring everybody any of us cares about? Every relative, every friend? I mean, he could use a stranger as a hostage if he wanted. We’d still care.” He kicks the bag a little harder. “So we did the best we could. Hell, we don’t even know for sure if he is looking for us. Are we driving ourselves crazy with all this running and hiding for nothing?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “No, I know.” He nudges my shoulder with his. “I wasn’t expecting you to answer, dude. I know you’re not him.”

  “Yeah.”

  Mr. Ambrose is the last to leave the room, duffel bag in hand. Apart from his steps as he climbs the stairs, and the clicking of Yasu’s nails as the baku follows, the basement is quiet. I rest my head on Nate’s shoulder and he slides his arm around my back.

  “It’s weird,” I say quietly. “I was him, and now I’m not. I’m only Chris Armstrong.”

  “Just an ordinary guy,” Nate replies. “Like the rest of us mere mortals.”

  “It sucks.”

  “Poor baby.”

  “Not the part about not sharing my head with a monster. That part’s great. I meant not having magic anymore.”

  “I figured.”

  I scootch down and slide my arms around his torso. He rests his head on top of mine.

  “How are you doing?” I ask.

  “Oh, super.”

  “No, really. You called Jasmine your ex-girlfriend.”

  “Yeah, she’s ghosting me. Won’t answer my texts. I wonder what’s up. Oh, right, she’s evil now.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Me, too.” He’s quiet for a moment. “I’m mad at her.”

  “It’s not her fault.”

  “Sure it is. Lots of people are getting their memories back. Nobody else turned on the people they love.”

  I hug him a little tighter.

  He sighs. “Shit. Sorry. Wasn’t thinking.”

  “I haven’t given up on my mom. Don’t give up on Jasmine. Not yet.”

  “Yeah. Well.” He slides his hand up my back and musses my hair. “Let’s leave some soul-bearing for later. If we’re having a sleepover then we’ve got all night to cry about our feelings.”

  The door at the top of the stairs opens and Zane’s voice calls down, “We got dinner!”

  Nate stands, breaking our hug. “Or…maybe I’ll sleep upstairs after all, and give you a little private time with your snuggle-bully.”

  I jump up, smooth down my shirt, and say quickly, “You don’t have to.”

  He laughs. “Dude, that was not even a little bit convincing.”

  Zane comes down the stairs. “Anybody still down here? No take-out tonight, Mr. Green cooked—” He enters the room and stops. “Oh. Hey.”

  All right. I guess we’re not running into each other’s arms and kissing passionately while music swells and fireworks burst. For some reason.

  I give him a feeble wave. “Hey.”

  “You’re awake.”

  “Yeah.”

  Nate looks back and forth between us. “Unexpected tension. Fun. Don’t know what’s going on there. I’m gonna go eat some real food.” He gives my upper arm a quick squeeze. “Holler if you need me.” As he passes he give me a ‘what the hell?’ look behind Zane’s back, then heads upstairs.

  Zane looks down at the floor. “So you’re okay?”

  “I think so. No magic.”

  “Oh. Sorry.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you remember…um…anything from…?”

  “From when I was in his head? No, not really.”

  “Oh.”

  Why won’t he look at me?

  “Is your family here?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “My mom and sister were, but Mom got sick of it. She didn’t get along with the other parents. I took them to my dad’s place in Philly. They’re staying with him until this is all over.”

  “Aren’t you worried?”

  He shrugs. “The Common King won’t go after them.”

  “You don’t know that for sure.”

  He looks back over his shoulder, towards the stairs. “We should eat.”

  “Did I do something?”

  He looks at me, finally, but only for a second. His hair has gotten longer. Not long enough to be in his eyes, but it hangs down over his forehead a little. He’s wearing a leather jacket. Looks good on him.

  He digs his toe into the floor. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, did he do something?”

  “Who?”

  “Come on, Zane. You weren’t here when I woke up.”

  “I was on ferry duty. Had to take Tannyl to Seattle, check on Lily’s dad, pick up Mr. Green. We don’t want to be seen coming in and out of the museum, so me and Liefer have to—”

  “I know.” I take a few steps across the room, then stop. “I know. I get all that. But whatever. You weren’t here. I’ve been awake for hours and you haven’t been here at all.”

  “Yeah.” He picks at a spot on the wall. “Sorry.”

  “And you’re here now and you’re barely looking at me so something’s wrong. They said you distracted the Common King while they searched the hotel. You and him talked?”

  He nods.

  “What did he say?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Zane.”

  “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

  “Obviously it does. Zane!”

  “What?”

  “Would you look at me? Please?”

  He does.

  I’ve seen that expression on his face before. Bored. Arrogant. Like nothing around him matters. Like everything is either a joke or not worthy of notice.

  He hasn’t looked at me like that since we started dating. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve seen him look like that at all since we started high school. Mostly I remember that expression from when we were kids. When he used to torment me.

  He rolls his eyes. “So? What? What am I looking at?”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  He groans and thrusts his hands into his hair. “I’m not…it’s fine. We’re fine. I’m glad you’re back. I’m glad you’re you again. Golden boy Chris Armstrong.”

  I wince. He used to tease me by calling me “golden boy” and h
e knows I don’t like it.

  He catches my reaction and for a second his irritated expression drops. His eyes show concern, maybe regret. But he turns away from me and any hope of figuring out what’s happening disappears.

  “You should eat,” he says. “Mr. Green’s a good cook.”

  “Can we—”

  He hurries into the hall and up the stairs.

  “—talk more later…?”

  Boyfriend’s being a jerk. Whatever. It happens. Doesn’t mean he’s breaking up with me. Not gonna cry about it.

  It’s not like I need him to comfort me or anything. Just because my dad died and my mom abandoned me and I’ve been locked in my own head for weeks and I lost all my magic and I’ve been split into two people and the other one is evil and wants to rule the world and kill all my friends. I mean, whatever.

  Lying down and feeling sorry for myself sounds like a great idea right now, but on the other hand, I can’t remember the last time I ate. I guess if they made me a new body then technically I’ve never eaten. And Mr. Green is a really good cook.

  I head out into the hall. The other room is empty, so I follow everybody else upstairs and step out into a hallway.

  I haven’t been to the Charlesville Historical Museum in a while. I think the last time was two years ago, my first year of high school. Charlesville Academy celebrated the anniversary of its founding with a trip to the original schoolhouse. It’s a nice building, I guess. Not very big, just a couple of rooms on two floors, not counting the basement. Warm lighting, white walls, hardwood floors. There are curtains on all the windows. I don’t remember those from before, but maybe Mrs. Green put them up so we could walk around after closing without being seen from the street.

  Sounds like everybody’s in the lobby. An amazing smell comes from that direction, so I head that way, but movement in an exhibit room to my right catches my eye. A woman laying out sleeping bags in between the displays. She’s blonde, in her forties. Looks familiar.

  She sees me and gasps. “Oh!” She puts her hand to her heart. “Oh. You’re Chris. Of course. I’m sorry, I thought for a second…sorry.”

  I recognize her now. Mrs. Liefer. I’ve seen her around school, at graduations and stuff, although I’ve never spoken to her before. And I’ve seen a picture of her and her whole family in Liefer’s office. They have a daughter in junior high, and a son, the same age as Nate’s brother. I think he goes to Harvard.