Magician's Gift:

by H. L. Burke

  He could easily create an illusion of lilacs. An illusion spell took little skill or ingenuity, though, and also, they only lasted until the magical energy of the quire they were written on was expended. Not good enough. No, he didn’t want to give her basically a pretty, short-lived bouquet.

  So perhaps a living plant. Magical energy could influence plant growth. He’d worked such spells for local farmers on numerous occasions. He could make a lilac tree blossom out of season or perhaps blossom in a particularly spectacular way. If he etched the spell into the stem of the plant itself, the magic could draw off the whole shrub which would enable him to use a greater amount of magic than he might with a quire of dead wood. He sat up with a grin. It was perfect. If he got started now, he could have it done before Rill got home. Sure, their anniversary wasn’t for a few more days, but why wait?

  After checking his pocket for his stylus and paper quires, he left the bedroom and headed for the garden.

  The lilacs were a relatively new addition to a garden which had stood far longer than Jericho had been alive—the Spellsmiths being a bit of a local institution. Rill’s mother—Iris, the namesake of their third and youngest child—had planted them before her death. They stood in a back corner near the greenhouse, two large shrubs that had grown to sprawling maturity over the last decade or so, one producing white blossoms, the other purple. When Jericho reached them, he sighted the family’s elderly gardener, Mattias, scratching in a nearby flower bed with a rake.

  “Ah, Master Jericho.” Mattias put down his tool and nodded a greeting. “What brings you out here?”

  “Taking a look at the lilacs.” Jericho motioned towards the shrubs.

  “Ah, yes, I’m quite proud of them.” Mattias leaned on the handle of his rake, smiling at the plants. “They’ve thrived under my care, far more than I expected considering Mistress Iris was the one who introduced them.” He sighed. “She always had a knack for tending plants. Some of her results I’ve never been able to replicate, but the lilacs—it’s almost as if she put a special blessing on them before she passed. Never a bad year, always growing.”

  “She probably did.” It would’ve been just like Rill’s mother to put some magic into her planting. Especially for a flower that had such significance to her daughter. Jericho considered the two bushes. He hadn’t realized how large they’d gotten. If he started one blooming, there would be no way to keep it hidden from Rill until their anniversary. Perhaps if he did a cutting, but would it stay alive until then? Maybe he should wait.

  “So, why are you interested in them?” Mattias asked. “They’re not blooming anymore.”

  Jericho hesitated. Even if it was too early to present the lilacs to Rill, he still needed to figure out the spell formula to make it work. Otherwise he might not have them ready in time. A gardener might be the exact person to help him out. “I’m thinking about my anniversary. Rill loves lilacs, and with a little magic, I was hoping I could make some bloom out of season for her.”

  Mattias’s eyes widened. “My, the things you magicians can do. It never ceases to amaze me.”

  “Yes, well, I haven’t figured it out yet.” Jericho swallowed. “I need some lilacs to practice on, but if I do it out here in the garden—”

  “She’ll see it, and your surprise will be ruined.” Mattias straightened his posture. “I think I might be able to help you. Come on.” He waved Jericho towards the greenhouse.

  The interior of the greenhouse was a mess of stacks of pots, piles of compost, and seedlings in various stages of growth. Mattias led Jericho straight to a bench filled with a series of pots. In some of the pots stood seedlings with familiar, vibrant green, teardrop-shaped leaves.

  “I noticed the lilac bushes produced a lot of suckers this spring,” Mattias said.

  Jericho’s brow furrowed. “Suckers?”

  “They’re the shoots that grow up around the bushes.” The gardener picked up a pot and held it out to Jericho. “If you dig them up and carefully tend them, they can grow into independent plants.”

  Jericho took it. “So this is a lilac bush?” It seemed little more than a flimsy twig with a few leaves sprouting at the top.

  “Well, with the proper care it will be.” Mattias brushed his hand across the leaves as if petting a small animal. “I took a good half dozen, though, so I don’t mind sacrificing one or two to your experiments. Especially not for sweet Mistress Rill.” A fatherly look crept into the old man’s eyes. “She does love the lilacs.”

  Jericho’s tension eased. Why hadn’t he thought of this sooner? Lilacs were such an obvious choice. Rill would love this.

  After thanking Mattias, he hurried with the potted lilac into the house and back into the bedroom. He probably wouldn’t be able to finish the spell before Rill got back, but he could start it then move the plant to the greenhouse to work on later. The cuckoo clock now read five after four. Still plenty of time until Rill could reasonably be expected. He set the plant on the floor and stared at it. Now how to begin ...

  He continued to blink at the plant, hoping some idea would present itself. No idea did. He scowled. He knew what he wanted to make the plant do, but how was he going to make it do it?

  Auric was so much better at finding creative applications for magic—or even Rill. While not as experienced as the two men, having started her magical training later in life, Rill had a knack for combining the mundane building blocks of basic spells in new and exciting ways. The last time their children had come down with a cold, she’d put together a heating spell and a spell to extract fragrances from plants to create scented steam that wafted about their room and helped them breathe. She’d figured out how to record snippets of songs within magical formulas to play over and over again to help their infants fall asleep. Also, her illusion spells had an art he could never hope to imitate.

  How did she do it?

  By taking simple spells and throwing them together in unexpected ways.

  He closed his eyes, trying to piece together what he wanted to do. First off, he wanted to make the lilac bloom out of season. That would be easy enough. He already knew agricultural spells that basically did that. So once that first step was accomplished, he wanted it to bloom in a more spectacular than usual manner—well, there were spells to encourage plant growth, so put one and two together. Finally, he wanted it to continue to bloom for a long period ... so loop the spell with a repetition symbol so that it fed back on itself until the energy was expired, which, if it drew from the plant’s natural connection to the earth, could be a while. Master Spellsmith, Rill and Auric’s father and Jericho’s mentor, had once used Spellsmith Manor itself to ground a powerful spell. A plant’s roots anchoring it to the earth would serve a similar purpose to the walls and foundations of the manor house.

  Jericho picked up the seedling in its pot. The stem of the plant was only about as broad as his pinky at the widest part. Not a lot of room for inscribing a complicated spell formula. Oh, well. He’d just have to write small.

  He checked the clock again. Another fifteen minutes had passed during his musing. He needed to start now if he were to have time to test it before Rill’s return.

  “Here goes nothing,” he murmured.

  With a tight grip on his stylus, he inscribed the first symbol to any formula, the commencement symbol. Then from memory he followed it with the five symbols of a blooming out of season spell and the four of a growth boosting spell. Finally he inscribed a repetition symbol.

  He paused. The activation spell remained. Sweat beaded on his brow, and he mentally chided himself. Compared to so much of his career, this was low stakes. No one would die if it didn’t work. Still, for whatever reason, the knuckles on the hand holding his stylus whitened.

  “Don’t be a ninny,” he hissed. Jaw clenched, he dashed out the final symbol. Light raced across the markings on the plant’s stem.

  Nothing happened.

  “Huh.” After placing his stylus in his vest pocket, Jericho set the plant down on Ri
ll’s vanity table and stepped back to glare at it. He hadn’t been certain his spell would work—untested spells were always a roll of the dice—but he also hadn’t anticipated nothing. Even faulty spells tended to do something, at least if his experience with Auric’s constant failed experiments was any indicator.

  Taking a paper quire and a pencil stub out of his pocket, he started to write down the spell he’d used, hoping if he stared at the formula for long enough, inspiration would strike.

  The plant quivered.

  He froze. Had he imagined that? He focused on the shiny green leaves.

  The plant shook again, this time so dramatically that the clay pot it was planted in rattled against the vanity table.

  A smile blossomed on Jericho’s face even as the plant unfurled. Trembling leaves stretched towards the ceiling. New shoots burst from the stem. In the span of a heartbeat, the plant had doubled in size.

  Clusters of tiny purple buds appeared at the tips of the new branches. Jericho drew closer. Barely daring to breathe, he watched as the buds opened into dozens of star-shaped purple flowers. A familiar fragrance rose from them.

  “Perfect,” he said.

  Now to hide this plant before Rill got home. He reached for the pot, only for the shrub to give a mighty shudder. With a crack, the clay pot split. Dirt cascaded out, followed swiftly by an eruption of roots. Tendrils snaked from the dirt. They flowed over the vanity table and onto the floor. Jericho staggered back a step.

  The lilac convulsed then expanded in a riot of new growth. Leaves and blossoms exploded in all directions like kernels of popping corn bursting in a pan.

  “Uh-oh.”

  Need to void the spell somehow ...

  Crack! The vanity table split from the weight of the now massive lilac shrub sitting on top of it. Panic surged through Jericho. No time to figure out a counter spell. He needed to get that thing out of the house. Now!

  Getting this sprawling monster through the bedroom door, down the stairs, and out into the garden would take too long. He bolted to the window. He’d fling the monstrosity through the window. Crashing to the ground below into a dozen pieces might break the spell formula apart and cancel the process. His sweaty fingers slipped on the latch, and he frantically wiped them on his shirt. The window creaked open a few hopeful inches.

  Something grabbed Jericho by the ankle. He whirled as the lilac creeper gave a sharp tug. His back hit the floor, hard.

  His lungs screamed as the air rushed out of him. Branches shot over his head, reaching for the window.

  Was it trying to escape?

  In a flash of terror-fueled imagination, he saw the lilac twining its way down the side of Spellsmith Manor, overwhelming the garden, and turning its attention to devouring the countryside. What had he done?

  Wrenching himself free, he slammed the window shut. The flower-tipped branches bent against the glass but did not break it. It wasn’t strong enough. Yet. The branches took sharp turns away from the window and began to circle the room. Thankfully all the other windows as well as the bedroom door were shut ... but if it continued to grow at this rate, might it burst the seams of the house?

  Jericho needed to end this now. He reached into his pocket for his stylus. His stomach flopped. It wasn’t there. His eyes darted about the room. Where was it?

  He scanned the floor. A glint of metal flashed from beneath a cluster of leaves. He dove for it. A branch jutted from the wall and smashed into his gut. He toppled into a cluster of lilac blooms and green leaves. They burst around him until he flailed like a drowning man trying to escape their perfumed grasp.

  “Jerry?” a muffled voice called through the door. “Are you in there? What is that crashing?”

  Jericho’s heart surged into his throat. “Rill, don’t—” A cluster of lilacs pushed their way into his mouth. He choked.

  The door opened, and Rill gasped. “What in the ... oh!”

  Jericho jerked himself into a sitting position just in time to witness the branches rocket towards his wife and the open door behind her.

  “Don’t let it escape!” he shouted.

  Rill slammed the door shut and jumped to the side. The lilac boughs smashed into the door with enough force to shake it, but thankfully, it held.

  “Jerry, what is going on?” she gasped.

  “Stylus!” he managed to blurt out before a grouping of leaves slapped him in the face. He tried to struggle towards her, but the lilac had turned the room into an impassable thicket.

  “I’ve got mine—ouch! Stop it, you vicious, vicious plant! Jerry!” her voice turned into a wail.

  He shook himself just free enough to turn in her direction. The lilacs had her pinned to the wall. Her outstretched right hand did have a stylus, but with the branches pushing her wrist into the doorframe, she was in no position to write with it.

  Jericho gritted his teeth. No plant was going to treat his wife like that and get away with it.

  “Rill, hold on!” he barked.

  He squirmed against the botanical bonds. What could combat plants? Fire, but that would risk burning the whole manor down, and them along with it ... gardeners? Perhaps if he shouted loud enough, Mattias would hear and come running with pruning shears ... or, wait, if Rill was home ...

  “Where are the kids?” he shouted.

  “They stayed in the village with your sister,” Rill’s tone was strained. “Jerry, I ... I can’t breathe. It’s pushing against my ribs.”

  Panic spiked, bringing with it a burst of strength. Jericho shoved outward with both his arms. Twigs cracked, and he rolled free. A branch thrust itself next to his head, barely missing his ear. He scrambled on all fours. Another offshoot caught him in the side. He winced and flattened himself. It grew over him—thankfully not through him. Now worming rather than crawling, he made his way across the remaining distance.

  Branches crisscrossed Rill like the lacings of a corset, pressing her into the wall. Her fair skin flushed red, and her blue eyes were wide and frightened. He eyed the stylus, still clenched in her outstretched hand. He’d need to stand to get to it.

  The branches around them convulsed. Flowers burst out of the leaves, a riot of deep purple, pale lavender, and white. They blocked his view of Rill, pushing him into the wooden floor of their bedroom. Rill gasped.

  “Jerry, can you get to me?”

  He twisted this way and that, but behind the flowers lay a cage of twigs and branches. They smashed him into the floor.

  “I’m trying,” he grunted.

  “I have an idea. I’m going to drop the stylus. Can you catch it?”

  His heart pounded. “I’m not sure.” With a crackling sound, the branches moved again, circling his chest. They were running out of time. “Do it!”

  Something clinked against the wooden floor inches from his head. His hand shot instinctively in the direction of the noise. Cold metal met his fingers, and he crowed in delight.

  “Use a repulsion spell, but add in a leaf symbol for botanical influence!” Rill cried.

  “Brilliant!” He grinned.

  He wrote directly into the floorboards. A wave of golden magical energy rushed outward from the spell, pushing the crushing boughs away from his body. The branches holding Rill to the wall cringed and retreated like snakes slithering into the grass. Rill collapsed beside him, gulping air.

  The horde of lilacs stood still for a moment then started to creep towards the couple again.

  “How do we stop them?” Rill whimpered.

  “I’ve got this!” Jericho lunged forward, grabbed the nearest stem thick enough to inscribe a spell upon, and raced through the symbols of a basic counterspell. A glow of magic raced through the branches and into the heart of the monstrous shrub which immediately stopped moving. Rill clenched his arm. They both stared at the plant. Jericho drew her to his chest, scarcely daring to breathe lest something start off the insane growing again.

  After several heartbeats of silence, Rill threw her arms around his neck and kissed hi
m.

  “How in the world ... no, never mind. Later.” She pulled away to look him in the eye. “Are you all right?”

  He considered his being. He felt a little banged up. His clothing had numerous tears, and scratches marred his arms and hands, but everything considered—

  “I’m fine.” He kissed her cheek. “You?”

  She rubbed her rib cage. “I think it left some welts, but I’ll be all right.” They embraced again.

  With the danger gone, embarrassment coursed through Jericho. How was he going to explain this in a way that wasn’t completely humiliating?

  He couldn’t. Still, he wouldn’t try and lie his way out of it. Not after all the times he’d given Auric grief over similar mistakes.

  Rill glanced up. Even with the magic done, their room still looked like an overgrown thicket. An arch of lilac boughs formed mere inches above their heads, innocently letting off floral perfume as if they weren’t vicious monsters that had just tried to squish Jericho and Rill like a pair of overripe tomatoes.

  “So ...?” She raised her eyebrows meaningfully.

  He groaned. “It’s Auric’s fault.”

  She smirked. “Normally I would believe that, but I passed him and Hedward on my way to the manor, and from what I can tell, they’ve been out all afternoon. Hard for Auric to cause all this when he’s miles away from the manor.”

  “Yeah, it’s not his fault.” Jericho leaned back against the wall and let out a long breath. “He just said something that set me off ... I was making your anniversary present, and he hinted you deserved something a little flashier and more romantic. I let it get into my head. I tried to enchant a lilac bush to blossom continually and ... apparently my spell wasn’t specific enough.”

  “Well, it certainly did what you asked.” She laughed. “So all of this was to make a gift for me?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. It seemed like a simple idea, but it went ... horribly wrong. I don’t know what got into me.”