The Bootlace Magician

by Cassie Beasley

“I do not want to go to London?” said Yuri.

  “I need to stay here in case something happens with the battle,” said Micah.

  “I’m glad you’re both so enthusiastic,” said Porter. He headed over to a bright purple door that was propped against a nearby stack. “You’re going to have so much fun! I’m jealous of you, really, getting to take a day off to explore.”

  He grabbed the purple door and maneuvered it toward one of the few empty frames he had left. It was at the end of the warehouse, near the entrance, and neither Micah nor Yuri followed him.

  “Is he going to make us leave?” Micah asked the chef.

  Yuri didn’t answer. He was just standing there wild-eyed, as if he’d been told the purple door led straight into the heart of a nuclear reactor instead of a neighboring city.

  Porter let the door hit the floor with a thud that echoed through the warehouse. “It’s either London for the afternoon or Tahiti until all this wretchedness is over,” he called. “I would choose Tahiti. But then, I’m sensible.”

  Micah didn’t think Porter would actually send him to the South Pacific while everyone else dealt with Victoria, but he wasn’t one hundred percent sure. The magician had been under a lot of pressure lately.

  “I’ve always wanted to see London,” he said.

  “That’s the spirit!” Porter beckoned him toward the door. “Yuri?”

  Yuri didn’t move.

  “Suit yourself.” Porter shrugged. “But Micah’s going to London right now. This very minute. With or without adult supervision.”

  Yuri looked alarmed. “The Lightbender will not like it if he goes alone?”

  “Not at all,” Porter said cheerfully. “But you’re the one who’s going to have to explain it to him.”

  * * *

  The Door opened into a shop that sold fancy crystal and ceramic figurines. When it slammed shut behind Micah and Yuri, hundreds of delicate ornaments tinkled against one another on their shelves.

  A pointy-nosed shopkeeper, who had been nestling a porcelain chicken into its proper place, rounded on the two of them. “What was that about?” he asked, glaring.

  “Sorry,” said Micah. “The wind caught the door.”

  “That’s a pretty chicken?” said Yuri. “This is a nice store?”

  Micah heard the polite note in Yuri’s voice and understood he was offering a compliment. But judging by the confused expression on the shopkeeper’s face, that wasn’t obvious if you weren’t used to the way Yuri talked.

  Micah grabbed the chef’s arm. “We were looking for a different shop,” he said, opening the purple door and pulling Yuri out onto a city sidewalk. “We got lost.”

  He shut the door behind them—carefully—and looked around.

  They were on a bustling street, lined with cars and delivery vans, and as it always did when he first stepped outside the circus, the change in atmosphere surprised him. The smells he’d become so accustomed to were gone—no chocolate or smoke or sweet hay. And no musical undercurrent filled the air. Instead, he heard the sounds of traffic and people talking on their phones and a bell chiming as a woman exited the florist’s shop next door.

  The day was chilly, and the sky was gray, but at least Micah had put on his peacoat this morning before he gave the kids their tour. Yuri was in short sleeves, and he wore a flour-dusted apron over his jeans.

  Micah pointed at the apron. “Shouldn’t you take that off?”

  Yuri looked down at himself and groaned. “I wasn’t prepared for traveling?”

  Neither was Micah. This became apparent when they decided to make the best of their situation by exploring the shops, only to realize money was going to be a problem. All they had was a five-dollar bill Micah had stuck in his coat pocket at some point. It was the same as having no money at all, since London shopkeepers understandably didn’t want to be paid in American dollars.

  Porter had said he’d pick them up at sunset, which was at least seven hours away by Yuri’s reckoning, and they had nothing to do.

  “We could find a museum to hang out in?” Micah suggested after they tired of window-shopping.

  They set out looking for a museum, in no particular hurry and with no particular direction. Micah didn’t feel like asking someone for help, and Yuri definitely wasn’t going to. The chef hadn’t spoken to anyone since the porcelain chicken incident. When groups of people passed by the two of them, he pressed his lips together as if he thought words might burst free without his permission.

  “Are you okay?” Micah said finally.

  “I don’t want to make mistakes?”

  Micah hesitated before asking, “Is your magic really that dangerous?”

  Yuri nodded.

  Micah felt bad for him. He could sense all his bracelets against his arm right now, and it was a good feeling. The memories were warm and vibrant, and the emergency bracelets were comforting. The locator knot on his ring finger gave a light but steady tug toward the northwest—reaching for Fish in his aquarium at the heart of the circus.

  “It’s not always terrible?” Yuri said, an earnest expression on his face. “But it’s hard to catch? The magic gets away from me, and it will not stop?”

  Micah was baffled. “What? Is it like a pet or something?”

  Yuri shook his head. “My words sound true to people? And I can’t make them sound untrue after I have said them?”

  Micah still didn’t get it. Wouldn’t it be a positive thing, for people to believe whatever you said?

  They turned the corner onto a short, one-way street. It was quieter here, with only a few parked cars and no people around except for a woman who had just stepped out of a hotel.

  Micah had more questions, but he knew Yuri wouldn’t answer with someone standing close enough to hear them. The woman was thumbing her cell phone, staring at the screen, and she barely glanced up as the two of them passed.

  Micah would decide, later, that he’d made a mistake. If he’d only kept walking, if he hadn’t looked in her direction . . .

  It took him three steps to realize who he had just seen, and when he did, he stopped breathing. His legs locked him in place. Though his mind was suddenly running at full speed, screaming for him to do something, say something, warn Yuri, his body wouldn’t cooperate.

  Yuri stopped beside him. “What’s wrong?”

  Micah stared back over his shoulder.

  The woman appeared to be middle-aged, and she was stylishly dressed. She had pulled her blond hair back in a tidy bun. Her oversized gray scarf was arranged in elegant swoops over the front of a dark blue dress.

  The scarf matched her eyes. Micah knew this because she was looking right at him.

  For a long moment, she didn’t seem to know him. Then, her mouth opened in surprise. Her phone tumbled from her grasp and smacked onto the pavement. She slapped one hand over her scarf, almost as if she were clutching at her heart, but when she dropped her arm a split second later, she held a small green bird that glimmered in her palm like a jewel.

  She whistled a single, high note, and the bird shot toward Micah and Yuri, moving so fast that it blurred.

  Micah jerked back, but the bird hadn’t been aimed at him. The tiny creature plunged its sharp beak into the side of Yuri’s neck, and Micah realized with shock that it was a hummingbird. It zipped up and away, leaving a bead of bright red blood against Yuri’s skin.

  The magician didn’t seem to understand what had happened. He raised his hand toward his neck. And then he went still. His eyes were half shut, as if he’d been in the middle of a blink, and his mouth was wide, forming the shape of some question.

  “Hello, Micah darling!” said Victoria. Her shoes hit the ground with sharp little taps as she approached.

  Micah wanted to run. He wanted to hit her. He wanted to shout for the Lightbender and Grandpa Ephraim and every good person he�
�d ever known.

  But Yuri? What about Yuri? Micah couldn’t leave him.

  Victoria smiled, and some ridiculous part of Micah’s brain informed him that it was a nice smile. It didn’t look fake.

  She stretched up and pressed her hand to the center of Yuri’s forehead. She gave a push, and the magician toppled over, not a single joint bending on the way down. He hit the pavement hard and lay there.

  Micah wasn’t even sure he was breathing.

  “They say it’s better to be lucky than good.” Victoria sounded so calm. Like attacking people in the middle of the street was no more startling than saying good morning. “Of course, it’s best to be both.”

  She nudged Yuri with the tip of her shoe and smiled sunnily at his still body.

  Then she looped her arm through Micah’s, as though they were dear friends. He tried to pull away, and her grip tightened just enough to show she didn’t mean to let him.

  “What did you do to him?” Micah’s voice shook. He was surprised he’d managed to say anything at all. He felt like there was nothing in his lungs but dust.

  “Oh, he’ll be fine,” she said. “He’s only paralyzed temporarily thanks to my pretty friend here.”

  She looked up at the green hummingbird, which was flitting around them. It stopped suddenly and flew back into her scarf to hide.

  “Come along, darling.” She gave Micah’s arm another squeeze. “We need to catch up on the last . . . eleven years? I was just on my way to lunch.”

  Micah stared at her. “I’m not going anywhere with you!”

  He would fling himself onto the sidewalk first. He would scream for help.

  Her face darkened. “Don’t be such a child.”

  “Get away from—”

  “Careful.” Her fingers dug into his arm, and she pulled him toward her. They were so close he could see the faint lines in the makeup around her eyes. “Have you ever seen a dire hawk slaughter its prey?”

  They drop them, thought Micah. He couldn’t say it out loud.

  “They always choose exactly the right height,” she murmured. “Just far enough to kill without making a mess.”

  Micah didn’t hear the bird. He didn’t even realize it had arrived until it landed beside them, so quiet it might have been a ghost. The hawk was huge—bigger than the cars parked along the narrow street. But its feathers blended in with the sidewalk and the buildings so perfectly that it was more of a shadow than anything else.

  Only its bright yellow eyes stood out. There was a rage in them that pierced Micah like a blade.

  He gasped and reached for Yuri, already knowing there was nothing he could do against a beast that size, but Victoria dragged him back as the hawk wrapped the paralyzed magician in talons as long as Micah’s arm. It took off with a single beat of its wings, lifting Yuri up and over the buildings.

  “Don’t hurt him,” Micah said. “Please don’t hurt him.”

  Victoria had her back to the dire hawk. Apparently, she didn’t need to see the bird’s progress to control it. Instead, she was studying Micah.

  When the Bird Woman had appeared in Micah’s nightmares, he had always imagined her to be a hateful, angry version of the person he’d seen in his grandfather’s old photographs. He had pictured a terrible, cackling monster dropping out of the sky with a cloud of cawing minions at her back.

  But the look she was giving him now wasn’t hatred. It was more like he was a stray cat she’d found, and she was deciding if she wanted to take him home.

  “I didn’t recognize your friend,” she said, her voice pleasant once again. “He must be new at the circus. What kind of magic does he do?”

  She asked the question so casually.

  But Micah knew.

  If he said the wrong thing, Yuri was dead.

  “He works in the kitchens.” He tried to sound normal, tried not to blink. “We came to pick up groceries.”

  Victoria narrowed her eyes at him.

  “Well, everyone loves a kitchen magician,” she said after a moment. “Do they still make those sugar whistles on Fridays? Those were always my favorites.”

  Micah wouldn’t let himself breathe a sigh of relief.

  “Come on then.” She gave his arm a sharp yank. “We have so many things to talk about.”

  They set out, and Micah craned his neck, searching the sky for the dire hawk. They had turned the corner onto a busier street by the time he managed to spot it. The bird had landed on the flat roof of a building less than a block away.

  Micah swallowed. The building was only a few stories tall, but if it decided to drop Yuri . . .

  A few stories would be, as Victoria had said, just far enough.

  LUNCH DATE

  Micah couldn’t use his emergency bracelets.

  He wanted to. Badly. If ever there had been an emergency, this was it, and Micah knew the Lightbender would expect him to do as they had agreed.

  But they had never counted on a situation quite like this.

  Micah had no way to explain to his guardian that, while he was in trouble, Yuri was in much worse trouble and would have to be rescued first. If help arrived for Micah and not for Yuri, Victoria could order the dire hawk to drop him.

  And that was assuming Victoria didn’t get suspicious when he untied the bracelets in the first place. She still had a tight grip on his arm. She was sure to notice, and when she did, she might decide to kill both of them before rescue could come.

  So. Something else.

  He could run, but Victoria could fly.

  Micah looked up at the sky. The gray clouds blanketing the city might hide hundreds of her birds. The magical flock, Micah was guessing, since it hadn’t been spotted at any of the North American attacks. And even if it was only the other two dire hawks up there, how much damage could they do in a place like this?

  This was London. Millions of people lived here. With their magical camouflage, the dire hawks might pluck pedestrians right off the street without anyone noticing.

  A round-cheeked woman pushing a baby stroller down the sidewalk smiled at Micah and Victoria as they passed, and Micah forced the corners of his mouth up. He didn’t want any innocent bystanders to suspect that he needed help. What if the woman realized he was in trouble and tried to intervene? What if Victoria hurt her and her baby?

  Micah didn’t doubt she would do it.

  “Almost there!” Victoria said in a chipper voice. “I think you’ll love this place. You eat French, don’t you?”

  Micah had never met an evil mastermind before, but he was pretty sure they weren’t supposed to behave the way his grandmother did.

  Wasn’t she supposed to say something like, “Join me, or die?”

  Shouldn’t she threaten to break his arms if he didn’t tell her where the circus was?

  At first, Micah had even suspected she might take him into a quiet alleyway and order some razor-beaked bird of prey to rip out his throat.

  But no. Victoria Starling was strolling along, talking about pointless things—her broken cell phone, an expensive purse she liked in a shop window, her mansion in Nova Scotia, powerful friends she’d made over the years.

  And she seemed to think the two of them were going to sit down and have lunch together.

  It’s a cruel joke, Micah thought. She’s going to feed me to her dragon. Or question me about the circus.

  But now she was explaining to Micah that he must be on his best behavior. It was a fancy place they were going to, and of course he hadn’t been included on her original reservation. She didn’t want him to embarrass her.

  “No one likes an ill-mannered child in a fine restaurant,” she concluded.

  Micah thought she was lying right up until the moment she dragged him toward the door of a restaurant with a French name written on the sign in fancy script.

  Mi
cah stared at her as she reached for the door. “What is wrong with you?” he demanded. “Yuri is—”

  “Who?”

  “The kitchen magician. My friend.”

  “What about him?” Victoria said, impatient. “The dire hawk will sit on him like he’s a good little egg, and you and I will have a pleasant luncheon.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  Victoria shrugged one shoulder. “Suit yourself, but I always eat a nice meal before a battle, and I won’t have any time for you later. So.”

  She pulled him inside.

  * * *

  Micah was surprised that the atmosphere in the restaurant didn’t shift when he and Victoria walked in. He was so on edge himself that he thought others must surely feel it, too.

  But nobody looked up from their menus. None of the conversations stopped.

  It was a small and elegant place where well-dressed people sat around tables draped with bright white cloth. They were talking in soft voices, laughing now and then.

  Danger had stalked into the room, and everyone was still exclaiming over their entrees.

  I didn’t think it would feel like this.

  Micah had imagined meeting Victoria. He had imagined fighting her with his magic and his fists. He had thought he would be furious and scared and determined. And he was, but . . .

  He looked around at this room full of everyday people. He stared into the faces of these adults who wouldn’t be able to help him at all when Victoria finally finished playing her strange game and turned violent. And he felt so utterly, wrenchingly alone.

  It’s up to you now. Keep them all safe. Think of something.

  “May I take your coat?” said a polite voice. It was the woman who greeted customers.

  Micah shook his head. “I’m fine.” He forced another smile. “Thanks.”

  He had stuffed a roll of twine and a few pieces of string in his coat pockets that morning, and now they were the closest things he had to weapons.

  They were seated, and Micah tried to behave normally while their waiter fussed with the glasses and napkins. As soon as he left them to study their menus, Micah said, “I’m not going to tell you where the circus is.”