The Conservation of Magic

by Michael W. Layne

  “I know the rules,” he said. “And, I didn’t break them. The cube did.”

  “What did you say?” Melanie said, finally joining the conversation.

  “I gave the cube the commands in English. I didn’t use any of the creation names we already know. I just told it what I wanted, and it did the rest.”

  Whether Chris was hallucinating from being so tired or playing a practical joke, Cara couldn’t deny that he may have just accomplished something remarkable. Her father would want to hear about it as soon as possible.

  “Listen,” she said, “if what you say is true—if we can verify it by repeating your experiment, this could be really good, but it could also be very dangerous. No more messing with this until I’ve had a chance to look at your interface and we talk to Ohman. For now, hard as it might be, I think we should all get out of here, and you two should go home and rest.”

  As Chris started to protest, Cara’s inner ear vibrated, signaling an incoming call. She motioned with one hand for the two of them to be quiet and covered her ear with the other.

  “Answer,” she said, giving the command for her implanted phone to pick up the call.

  Her father’s voice filled her head as clearly as if he were standing next to her. He had felt the same ripple of power as she, but had instantly known its meaning. The moment Ohman had been waiting for all his life had finally arrived. Despite his excitement, his voice was steady and controlled as always. Cara, Melanie, and Chris were to stay in the testing lab, and Ohman would call them once it was safe to come to the surface. Before she could argue, her father ended the call.

  Chris and Melanie looked at her with questioning stares.

  A film of perspiration covered her skin. She knew what her father was talking about—the only thing it could be. The surge of magic she had felt had nothing to do with Chris or his interface. It was something both more exciting and terrifying. The second Son of Earth and Fire had awoken from his slumber, and her father was going on his own to find him before the first Son of Earth and Fire did.

  Even with all his power, her father was going to need her help. She had to get out of the building before he activated the security wards.

  Without saying anything to Chris and Melanie, Cara sped out of the room and ran down the hall. She hurried to the elevator doors and slapped the up button.

  She tapped the wall impatiently as she waited for the elevator doors to open. Her father had recited to her the ancient prophecy of the Sons of Earth and Fire and of Sigela’s return many times. Two brothers would be born—each with the blood of Earth and Fire running through his veins, but one would be ruled by Terrada and the other by Sigela. They would be abandoned at birth as aberrations, separated from one another, wanted by neither of their clans. The first brother would devote his days to finding his lost sibling, while the second brother would spend his life as if in a dream, unable to remember his true self. It was foretold that they would one day find each other and that their magic would merge and become so powerful that the dragons themselves would be forced to obey their will. Together, the brothers would release Sigela from her exile in the heavens and the world would be consumed by fire destroying all but the followers of Sigela, the Fire Dragon.

  A soft chime sounded. The elevator door opened and Cara stepped inside. She heard Chris and Melanie running to catch up to her but she hit the close button without waiting.

  “Hey, hold up,” Chris shouted. “I’m not getting stuck in here again like the last time the old man ran off on one of his emergencies.”

  Chris and Melanie dashed into the elevator just before the doors closed, and the car began its ascent to the Rune Corp lobby.

  The ride to the ground level was quiet except for Chris and Melanie’s labored breathing. The elevator doors whooshed open and the three of them entered a massive atrium filled with multitudes of greens and browns from plants and trees growing throughout. A thick yew tree stood like a sentinel in the middle of the lobby, its evergreen branches reaching almost completely to the steeped glass ceiling five floors above. Cara sped past the tree as Chris and Melanie followed behind her.

  “I know you can’t tell us what’s going on, but is everything going to be alright?” Melanie asked as she struggled to keep up.

  Cara kept herself focused as she ran.

  “I have no idea,” she said gravely as they came to the row of glass doors leading to the outside.

  Cara slapped her badge up to the door’s scanner plate and glanced upward. Beyond the glass of the atrium ceiling, clouds glided across the full red moon as the sky lit up with washes from distant lightning. The floor vibrated and hummed with the rumbling of approaching thunder. The storm was close.

  The security door clicked. She jerked it open and stepped into the vestibule. As soon as the glass door closed behind her, the outside door clicked open and she rushed into the open air.

  Behind her, she heard the crackle of the security spells being activated one by one. She breathed in the crisp pre-storm atmosphere. The dragons were already restless in anticipation of the events to come.

  Cara watched as Chris and Melanie stood anxiously in their respective vestibules listening to the security warning that played every time a regular employee left the building. They had no way of knowing that another soundtrack was playing simultaneously below their conscious hearing range—a set of dragon words that would cloud the details of their workday, effectively burying their knowledge of Rune Corp’s true nature and its work until they entered the building again.

  Just before the last security ward sizzled into place, Chris and Melanie stepped outside. Their memories had been suppressed, and their life forces restored by the spell as well. Despite the rapid aging that came from working so intensely with the cubes, Chris appeared young once again.

  They both looked up at the approaching storm and then at Cara as if she had appeared from the ether.

  “Hope you’re not just coming into work at this time of night,” Chris said.

  Cara smiled.

  “On my way home just like the two of you as a matter of fact.”

  Chris and Melanie seemed puzzled for a moment, but then they said goodnight and started walking to their cars. Cara tried to ignore the rippling of the elemental fabric around her until they were both pulling out of the parking lot. As soon as she was alone, she closed her eyes and released a deep harmonic sound from her throat. Her voice reached out to the unseen web of dragons, intertwining with the natural discord of the encroaching storm that encircled her. She felt her way across the concentric ripples of the echo from the magical blast she had felt earlier until she found the epicenter.

  She opened her eyes, ran for her car, and within seconds was speeding away. She knew that the second Son of Earth and Fire was one of the most powerful Drayoom ever to be born, but she guessed that after being asleep for all his life, he would also be one of the most vulnerable—at least until he remembered who he was.

  #

  Chris rubbed his forehead as he waited for the light to change. He liked his work, but today had really worn him out. He tried to remember the details of the day, but his headache kept him from concentrating. Nothing that made him feel this bad could be worth it. He fingered the edge of the badge hanging around his neck and popped the car’s dome light on. He squinted at the holographic photo of his face and the etched silver patterns layered over the swirling greens of the card. The photo was taken only three years ago, but he looked like a boy compared to how old he had been feeling lately.

  He had been so excited on his first day at Rune Corp, landing a job right out of college. Five years later and he was at the same company, starting to make some real money, and about to buy his first townhouse. The only thing he was missing was a girlfriend…and a life.

  He turned off the dome light. He couldn’t remember how many weekends he had worked in a row, but it had been a lot. He could stand a few days with no work. If he called in sick on Monday he could take Jazzy to the dog p
ark, and maybe even meet a gorgeous woman that loved dogs. Besides, the park was always less crowded during the week and according to the latest forecast, Monday was supposed to be beautiful. He laughed. If that was the weatherman’s prediction, it would almost certainly rain.

  Of course, going to work would at least give him another chance to see Cara. She was beautiful and smart—the perfect woman, except for three things. She worked more hours than he did, she was the CEO’s daughter, and she wasn’t interested in him as anything other than one of her top programmers. He had wanted to ask her out since the first time they met and wasn’t sure why he hadn’t at least tried. Just because she would have said no and probably would have fired him was no excuse.

  The traffic light turned green and he hit the gas, filled with a renewed sense of determination. Regardless of the outcome, he’d start a conversation with Cara on Monday and invite her to have dinner or coffee with him after work. Even Cara had to eat. All he had to do was to be himself and to hope that there was some kind of magic between the two of them.

  PART TWO

  From the Tale of Abred

  THE DRAGONS DID NOT REMAIN SILENT for long. They began speaking to Abred again, although this time more cautiously. No longer did they threaten him, but instead they asked him what he desired and then went about making the world to his liking with the magic of their words. As they spoke to the Manred, shapes and colors sprung forth from the vibrations of their voices. Abred himself remained silent as the dragons continued to wait for him to choose a leader from among four. The years that passed were nothing to the dragons, but it was not so for Abred.

  He began to grow tired and had to rest now and then. He became thirsty and had to drink, and was hungry and had to eat. As he grew older, he realized that the body the dragons had given him would not last forever. Terrada told him one day that his life would be like the passing of the seasons and that one day his body would return to the earth from which it sprang.

  Along with his body, his memory of the words the dragons had whispered to him on the day of his birth began to fade as well. Abred feared that he would soon forget all that they had taught him and that he would once again be at their mercy, but he could think of no way to capture his fleeting knowledge.

  He tried using all manners of symbols and signs scratched on the walls of caves, burnt onto long strips of bark, even etched into his skin. But the sounds of the dragon words eluded his simple written codes. In the end, he described the meanings of the most powerful of the dragon words he could remember as best he could through his own language and symbols. Fearful of the dragons discovering his fading memory and destroying his written records of their languages, he confided in Terrada.

  The Earth Dragon led Abred to a cave over a hundred times his height with a hole in its side that was stopped with a large stone the shape of a giant’s fist. The stone fist slid to the side with a low rumble, and Abred hid his inscribed pieces of shaved bark inside the cave. Terrada replaced the rock and explained that the fist of stone could not be shifted by the wind, or worn away by the rain, or burnt down by fire. It would, however, move aside for Abred’s descendants one day.

  Abred added to his library at the end of each day. After a long time, he looked at his oldest manuscripts. He recognized his symbols, but could no longer decipher their meanings.

  He placed his writings in the cave and asked Terrada to seal it forever. As he returned to his camp, a great storm grew like the ones in the days before the world had been calmed.

  The other dragons had discovered his weakened mind.

  Fearing the time when his growing weakness would be discovered, he had memorized the names of all of the dragons and the perfect tone that was created by speaking them all at once. Surrounded by the fury from all the dragons except for Terrada, Abred raised his arms and spoke that perfect tone, as he had done on the day of his birthing.

  Bound by his word, the dragons once again relented to Abred’s will. This time, however, he demanded a companion—someone with whom he could speak and share his life. And with whom he could begin his own family.

  CHAPTER 4

  “MERRICK,” SHE WHISPERED, still unable to see clearly. “Are you there?”

  No reply, but Mona could feel him—the residue from where his hand had touched her last. She willed her head to one side. A dark blue shape hovered at the foot of her bed, blending in with the shimmering patchwork of white and off-white where she hoped to find Merrick. She blinked, forcing her senses to work together until the blue form revealed itself to be only Merrick’s sweater balled up on a wooden chair.

  She winced, remembering being attacked in the alley earlier. The smell of drugstore cologne and stale cigarettes still hung inside her nostrils. She remembered seeing Merrick, his body unmoving on the alley floor with a puddle of blood leaking from his head, dead or close to it. Then her skin had begun to itch as if covered with a million nibbling ants. The alley had exploded in light as bright as the day, and finally there had been a single crack of thunder like a pair of giant hands clapping right above her head. She couldn’t remember anything after that deafening noise except for a dream in which the ants returned and she had to run for her life to escape them.

  A doctor with a closely cropped white beard and a chubby nurse entered the room, interrupting her thoughts.

  “Are you feeling better, dear?” the nurse said, reaching out to touch her lightly on the shoulder. “You’re safe now.”

  “Where’s Merrick?” she said.

  The nurse smiled.

  “This is Doctor Brannigan. The more you tell him, the more he can help you.”

  She turned to look at the doctor.

  “He’s dead, isn’t he?”

  “Mr. Jones isn’t here, but he’s not dead. Far from it.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Did the two of you get in an argument tonight—something that turned perhaps more physical than usual?”

  It made no sense to her, but for some reason, the doctor thought that Merrick was the one who had hurt her. Hadn’t he seen that Merrick had been close to death earlier?

  Mona shook her head back and forth, trying to clear her mind.

  “We were both attacked tonight. You saw how bad Merrick looked.”

  The doctor glanced at the floor and then back at her. “Your boyfriend wasn’t injured at all. I’d even go so far as to say he was in excellent physical health.”

  The doctor cleared his throat and straightened his posture. His face reddened slightly.

  “The police want to talk with you for a minute. I can tell them you need some more time if you’d like, but you might want to just get them out of the way.”

  She nodded slowly. Better to set things straight right now before things got out of hand. After that, she could get out of the hospital and check on Merrick herself. There was no way he had walked away from that alley without major injuries. Either they had the wrong guy or the doctor had made a mistake.

  “I’m the closest thing you’re going to find if you’re waiting for one of his family members to show up,” she said. “His father died last week, so if there’s something going on with him that you don’t want to share with me…”

  The doctor absently smoothed his beard before adjusting his clipboard, like he was thinking about whether or not to confide in Mona.

  “Everything was fine on Merrick’s X-rays, except for one thing. The profile shot of his throat shows four vocal folds just under his larynx.”

  “Where are they supposed to be?”

  “They’re in the right place, or at least one of them is.”

  “And the other three?”

  “They shouldn’t exist. Humans only have one.”

  Mona was silent.

  The doctor shrugged.

  “He could have moved when they took the shot, or maybe he was wearing something metal that caused a visual echo. It’s probably nothing, but I want to get some clean film on him just the same. Once we find him, o
f course.”

  The doctor left as two police officers entered the room—one male and one female. The woman had short black hair and a pudgy body. The male officer was skinny with an overly pronounced Adam’s apple. Both of them had bone white skin, probably from pulling too many graveyard shifts, Mona thought.

  The female police officer cleared her throat and flipped through the pages of a small wire-bound notebook.

  “I’m Officer Diggs. This is Officer Crane. We’ll be out of your hair in a few minutes, Ms. Whittle, but I’ve got some questions first. Your boyfriend, Mr. Merrick Jones, told the doctor that you and he were accosted tonight at approximately 6:00 PM by two strangers in the alley off of Washington and Third. That right so far?”

  Mona nodded.

  “Ask about the boyfriend,” Crane said.

  “When we arrived on the scene,” Diggs said, ignoring her partner, “we found Mr. Jones sitting on the ground with your head in his lap.”

  “A few feet away,” Diggs continued, “we found a dead man with smoke coming out of a big hole in his chest.”

  The officer paused and looked up at Mona.

  “Any idea how that happened?”

  “I’m not sure if you noticed,” Mona said, “but I was in a coma at the time. I remember a bright flash and some thunder and that’s it until I woke up in here.”

  “I’ll take that as a no,” Diggs said.

  “What about your boyfriend?” Crane asked, this time directly to Mona.

  “Right. How long have you two been dating?” Diggs said.

  “Almost a year.”

  “Know him pretty well?”

  “I think so. I mean, yes.”

  “He ever hit you?” Crane blurted.