by Rachel Aaron
Marci stopped, blinking in confusion, but that didn’t change what she saw. With one blink, she was standing on the mountain in the Heart of the World. With the next, she was floating inside the yawning emptiness of the Empty Wind’s domain, the same place he’d brought her when he’d eaten her during the fight with Myron and the DFZ at the Merlin Gate.
“What’s happening?”
You’re blending with me, her spirit replied, his voice as loud as hers in their shared head. The magic is blurring the barriers, making you see as I see.
“This is what you see?” Marci said, horrified. Every time she blinked, she saw something different: the dark, the mountain, her own unconscious body back in the DFZ, their crushed house far below the battle. Hundreds of images flicked past like slides on a sped-up reel. But while Marci found the chaos even more nauseating than the Sea of Magic, a cold part of her mind found the mishmash comforting, even inspiring. It was utterly confusing until Marci realized that bit wasn’t part of her mind at all. It was Ghost. Her spirit was inside her thoughts in a way he’d never been before. Likewise, she could feel herself in him, blowing through the dark as the magic poured in.
“Wow,” she whispered, flexing her hands, which weren’t her hands at all, but his. A soldier’s dark, sure fingers. “And it’s the magic that’s doing this?”
The magic is crushing us together, yes, he said. But the fact that we’re handling it is all us. She felt his smile on her face. Our bond is strong.
“We are awesome,” Marci agreed, searching through the confusion of images until she found one that looked down on the DFZ from high above. “There.”
They moved together, sliding through the barrier, which was no longer much of a barrier at all. With so much focused magic near it, the wall between reality and the Sea of Magic was running like hot wax, sliding out of the way easily as Marci stepped out of the Heart of the World and into the high, cold air above the Leviathan.
“Wow,” Marci said, looking over their shoulder at the melted hole in the world they’d left behind them. “It’s just like when the DFZ was pulling in magic through Myron. We’ve blended worlds.”
“We’ve done more than that,” Ghost replied, turning their winds—because they were wind now, a freezing, grave-like wind that blotted out the sun and filled the air with memories—back to the Nameless End below. “The magic of the world, all the spirits and those who rely on them, the life of this plane itself has been shaped into one massive force. The only reason it hasn’t blown itself to bits yet is because the Heart of the World is holding it. We’re hooked into it now too, but if you want to bring it down on him”—he nodded at the dark expanse of the Leviathan—“you’re going to have to grab that mass and swing it.”
That was the part she’d been dreading. There was no turning back now, though, so Marci rubbed the memory of her hands together and reached through their connected magic to the flimsy shadow of her soul, which was still kneeling in the Heart of the World. Using her new double vision, she kept one eye on the Leviathan while the other focused on her spellwork, opening the dam to let the high-pressure magic surge out of Myron’s circle into the banishment she’d scratched onto her bracelet.
Even merged with Ghost, the force nearly blew her apart. The moment she pushed the power into the spellwork, all that magic—that ocean in a thimble—became a living, pounding thing desperate to be free. Controlling it was like trying to hold a dragon with a hair, but every time Marci started to slip, Ghost was there to catch her, his winds shoring them both up. There was more here than any spirit, even a god, could hold, but Ghost and Marci together were greater than the sum of their parts. Somehow, they kept it together, Ghost containing the edges while Marci guided the magic through her spell, folding and winding and condensing the power just as she’d done with Amelia’s flame when Svena had shoved it down her throat. On and on and on it went, until, at last, all the spirits who’d jumped down Myron’s well were crushed into a ball that fit in Marci’s hand.
And it was beautiful.
Short as their time was, Marci couldn’t help but stop and stare. No mortal eyes had ever seen all the magic of the world together in one place. Given how dark the Sea of Magic normally appeared, she’d expected the spell to look like a black hole, but it didn’t. It looked like a star. A shining orb of every color that glowed so bright it hurt to look at. It was heavy, too, dense enough to weigh down even their wind. If she held it for much longer, the weight would crush them against the Leviathan’s back, but Marci didn’t need to hold it. Thanks to the Empty Wind, they were already in position, which meant all she had to do was let go. So, with a triumphant smile, Marci opened her hands and let the magic drop, releasing the spell that was so simple, it had only one word.
Scatter.
True to its form, the banishment fell like a star, picking up speed with every inch until it was screaming through the air. When it hit the Leviathan, the entire world went silent, holding its breath as the condensed magic imploded in a blinding flash, blowing everything apart.
Including them.
The exploding magic crashed into them like a wall. One moment, Marci was flying as part of the Empty Wind. The next, she was scattered across the entire Great Lakes area. For a horrifying moment, that seemed to be the end, but then, as always, the Empty Wind caught her, hauling both of their magic back into the quiet safety of his black-and-white realm.
Marci snapped back together with a gasp. She was still a disembodied soul, but she was no longer in the Heart of the World. Instead, they were back in the basement of the cat house at the edge of town, standing over her unconscious body, which was being kept warm by a purring blanket of stray cats. Outside, the sky was white through the broken windows. Marci couldn’t see more than that from this realm, though, so, without even waiting for Ghost to tell her how, she jumped back into her body.
It hurt a lot more than she’d expected. Not having died this time, Marci expected to just pop back up like Myron always seemed to. But even when you did it the nonlethal way, traveling to the afterlife on the Empty Wind still clearly had deathly overtures, because she woke up with the same horrible heaviness in her limbs as when Raven had taken her back the first time. She didn’t have to claw her way out of her own grave, and the cats had kept her warm, but it was still horrifying. She was gasping the air back into her lungs when Ghost shouted in her head.
Marci!
His excited voice was surprisingly quiet. Softer than it had been in weeks. When Marci looked up to see why, the Empty Wind was a cat again, his fluffy white body smaller and more transparent than it had been since the time she’d accidentally almost snuffed him by taking him out of his domain. As dim as he looked, though, Ghost’s glowing blue eyes were wide and excited as he hopped onto her chest. Come see!
Marci forced herself to her feet. On the way up, her body made it clear in no uncertain terms that moving was a very bad idea, but after all they’d just gone through, she wouldn’t have missed this for anything. It hurt and made her sick, but she kept going, staggering through the blown-off basement door into the grass outside.
Into the sunlight.
She shielded her eyes at once. The winter afternoon sun was hazy with smoke, but after the Sea of Magic and the dark of the Leviathan’s shadow, it felt as strong as a spotlight, primarily because it was there. The sky above their heads was empty. They’d done it.
“It worked,” Marci said, her face splitting into a grin as she blinked frantically in the light. “It worked!”
The Leviathan was gone. Where he’d been, a fine mist of water was falling like rain, but other than that, there was no trace of him anywhere. He was simply not there. Banished, just as she’d promised.
“We did it!” she cried, grabbing Ghost so suddenly he yowled. “We banished a Nameless End! We saved the world! Do you have any idea how famous we’ll be when this gets…”
Her voice trailed off as something clenched hard in the pit of her stomach. Now that she’d blast
ed all the magic back out into the world, she and Ghost were no longer blended into everything, but she’d have had to be deaf, dumb, and blind to miss the yank that had just happened at the pit of her soul.
“Ghost—”
I felt it too, he whispered, hopping up on her shoulder to look around. But I don’t know what—
He was cut off by the whoosh of thousands of gallons of water suddenly being sucked back into the air. All around them, the rain that had been falling from the banished Leviathan was reversing. The water even left her clothes, the wetness pulling out of the cat-hair-covered fabric like someone was vacuuming it up. In the space of a few seconds, all the magic the banishment had scattered was back in place, and as it coalesced, the hazy sunlight vanished yet again as the Leviathan reappeared.
“No,” Marci said, her eyes going wide. “No!”
This couldn’t be happening. They’d won. The Leviathan had been gone. How was it back? How was this possible?
He must have re-formed, Ghost said quietly. Banishments are only temporary.
“Not that temporary!” Marci cried. “And re-formed where? He has no vessel! No home! How did he pull himself back together so—”
“Marci!”
The yell came from far away, and she looked up to see a small blue shape racing toward her across the city. A few seconds later, Julius landed panting beside them, his feathered face grim beneath the crown of his Fang. “Are you okay?”
“No!” Marci said angrily, stabbing her hand at the once-again blackened sky. “That should have worked! Why didn’t it work?”
“I was hoping you could tell me,” Julius said, lowering his wings so she could climb onto his back. “Hop on. The others are waiting back at the house.”
Marci didn’t want to go back to the others. She wanted to return to the Heart of the World and figure out how things had gone so horribly wrong. There was no way she’d screwed up the banishment. It was a one-line spell, and she’d seen it work. But she wasn’t sure how to go back, or if it was even possible anymore. Now that she’d stopped, Marci was starting to feel how tired she was. Ghost was exhausted too, his weariness pulling like a weight on her mind. Already, his transparent body was fading, leaving her spirit a small, sad, cold lump in her arms as she climbed onto Julius’s back.
“The same thing happened to Amelia,” he said as she carefully placed the sleeping cat on her lap. “Right before the banishment landed, she shrank down to nothing.”
“Because I was using all the magic,” Marci said glumly. “I balled the entire sea up and blasted it to pieces, and it didn’t even work.” She clenched her fists. “It should have worked!”
“It did,” Julius said, taking off. “I saw him scatter just like you said he would. But then he put himself back together.”
She slumped over with a groan, and he swiveled his triangular head back around to smile at her. “It’s okay. You tried your best. No one’s mad at you.”
“I’m mad,” Marci said, her body shaking. “We got robbed! Our ace in the hole just blew up in my face. Literally. Now what are we supposed to do?”
Julius’s silence was answer enough as he flew them back through the destroyed city to their home.
***
“I told you so,” the Black Reach said.
“Save it,” Bob muttered, pacing back and forth down the rut he’d worn in front of the wreckage of Julius’s home.
“You knew this was coming as well as I did,” the construct went on. “You knew the young Merlin’s plan would fail, and yet you still encouraged—”
“Likely to fail,” Bob said. “It was likely to fail, which isn’t the same as would fail. There was still a chance.”
“A small one,” the Black Reach said. “Which you had no business betting all our lives on.”
“I don’t see you doing anything!” Bob snapped, startling his pigeon from her roost on his shoulder. “At least I’m trying to save us. Where are your grand plans?”
“Already made,” the elder seer replied, holding up the glittering orb of the Kosmolabe.
Bob turned away in disgust. “Running away isn’t a plan. It’s just another form of defeat.”
“You mean another way to survive,” the Black Reach said, dropping his arm with a sigh. “I am sorry, Brohomir. I know how badly you want your happy ending. It was a big factor in why I decided to spare your life. We’ve always wanted the same future, but unlike you, I cannot be blinded by emotion. I must look only at what will be, and as much as everything else has changed, that one factor of the future that truly matters has not.” He looked up at the Nameless End, which had just finished re-forming itself in the sky. “We were always doomed. From the moment Algonquin let it in, this plane was lost. You should be able to see that as clearly as I can now that you’ve lived past your death. Why can’t you accept it?”
“Because I don’t blindly accept failure!” Brohomir cried, whirling around to face him again. “‘The future is never set until it’s past.’ You taught me that! I didn’t spend centuries alienating everyone I loved trying to snatch my life from your jaws so I could lose now!”
The Black Reach’s eyes narrowed. “Spoken like a prideful idiot. You’re better than this, Brohomir. You know perfectly well that you can’t bully the future. That’s what made you a brilliant seer. Unlike Estella, you understood that draconic bravado means nothing to the cold, hard math of possibility. That hasn’t changed just because you escaped your death.”
“I know,” Bob said, raking his fingers through his hair. “I know, I know, I know. It’s just…”
He wanted things to be different. He’d thought for sure that the moment he cleared his death, he’d spot a way out, because that was what he did. He always found a way. Now, though, the vast, intertwining streams of possibility were drying up before his eyes. With every second that ticked by, the stream of the future got narrower and narrower, leaving fewer and fewer paths, none of which went anywhere good.
“There has to be a way out,” he growled, resuming his pacing. “There has to be.”
The Black Reach turned away with a bitter sigh. “I won’t be part of this sad delusion. Baseless hopes are for the blind. We who can see must deal truthfully with what’s in front of us, or what’s the point of seeing at all?” He waved over his shoulder. “When you’re ready to be a seer again, come and find me. I’ll be waiting where I always am at the end.”
Bob didn’t want to think about endings, but everywhere he looked now, the end was all he saw. Thousands and thousands of roads all leading to the same deadly conclusion. But even with the inevitable staring him in the face, Bob kept searching, frantically rooting through the remaining possible futures for the chance he could grab to keep them all alive. It wasn’t until Julius landed in front of him, though, that he finally found it. His final gamble, so beautiful he could cry.
It’s a long shot, his End warned. You’ve had bad luck with those lately.
“True,” he said, petting her head. “But you miss a hundred percent of the shots you don’t take, and as the Black Reach just so kindly reminded me, we don’t have much left to lose.”
The Nameless End leaned into his touch. Are you ready to trade, then? All long shots come in if I guarantee them.
Bob thought a moment, looking down his chosen future as far he could, and then he shook his head. “Not yet. Julius has never let me down so far, and if this plays out the way I think it will, I’m going to need you more than ever before the end.”
I’ll be there, she promised. I am an End, after all.
“You are indeed,” he said, kissing her on the neck as he turned to face his youngest brother, who’d just set his human down beside the suddenly conscious body of Sir Myron Rollins.
Chapter 13
The first thing Marci did when Julius landed was look for Myron.
She spotted him immediately, sitting up from the ground where the DFZ had left his body when she’d taken him to the other side. The city spirit was nowhere to
be seen, though. Just another sign that everything had gone wrong.
“Myron!” she yelled, practically falling off Julius in her rush to get to the other Merlin. “What happened? How did the Leviathan re-form so fast?”
The older mage put his head in his hands, which were shaking so badly his silver, maze-worked rings were rattling like bells. “It was the roots. Shiro, Raven, and I thought they were there so Leviathan could drink the other spirits as soon as he was done with Algonquin, but…” He took a shuddering breath. “We were wrong. So wrong. The tendrils he sank into the Sea of Magic weren’t so he could consume it. He was holding on, making himself a foundation. When the hammer banish blew him apart, he just dug in and pulled himself back together.”
“That can’t be,” Marci said. “I watched him explode into water vapor.”
“And I saw this,” Myron snapped, looking up at her at last. “He was ready, Marci, and why wouldn’t he be? Algonquin’s a spirit who’s been running the world’s largest magical consumer goods corporation for the past six decades. She has a private army of mages. Of course she knows how banishments work! And if she knew, he knew. He was by her side the entire time.” His face grew bleak as he returned it to his hands. “We should have known.”
“What difference would that have made?” Marci said angrily. “Even if we’d suspected he was prepared for a banishment, there was no other way to break up his magic. This was our one real chance to beat him. We had to take it. No one could have predicted he’d survive. We hit him with all the magic there is. It doesn’t get bigger than that!”
As she said them, Marci realized what those words really meant. They’d taken their best shot, and they’d failed. Not missed, not screwed up, not fallen so they could get up and try, try again. No. They’d hit the enemy head-on with everything they had, and it simply wasn’t enough.
