The Bootlace Magician

by Cassie Beasley

  All at once, the flames were gone, and Conflagration shrieked with rage. He swooped low over the tents, looking for whoever had spoiled his fun, and Micah, so proud of Firesleight that he wanted to clap, didn’t realize the danger until Porter said, “It’s looking at us.”

  “What?”

  Conflagration had spotted the evacuating magicians in the meadow. Or, more likely, the brilliant magical light coming from Fish’s aquarium had drawn his gaze.

  Even as the dragon circled the tents, his head turned, eyes fixed curiously on Micah.

  “Everyone through the Door!” Porter yelled, motioning the straggling magicians and animals through. “It’s about to close!”

  Then he turned to Micah and said, in a much calmer voice, “Step closer.”

  Micah, unable to tear his gaze away from the dragon, did.

  “Listen to me,” said Porter. “I’ve only done this a few times. It’s important that you don’t move.”

  “Okay?” said Micah, barely paying attention.

  Conflagration was turning in the air. He was heading for them. It would just take a few beats of his wings.

  “Hold on tight to Fish,” Porter said.

  Micah squeezed the aquarium in both hands.

  He felt something on his chest and looked down. Porter had pressed his palms to the front of Micah’s shirt.

  “You can do this,” the magician whispered.

  Micah didn’t think Porter was talking to him.

  “Porter?”

  “Far,” said Porter. And he shoved Micah hard.

  FISH

  Micah stumbled back a step, and Circus Mirandus was gone.

  The day was brisk, the sky cloudless, and as Micah turned to see where Porter had sent him, smooth pebbles crunched and rolled under his feet.

  He stood on a small, abandoned beach. The sea was only a few steps away, the waves so slight that the cold, gray water looked almost like glass.

  It was quiet. Micah’s breath sounded loud next to the faint swish of the ocean and the clacks the pebbles made as they tumbled at the edge of the lapping water.

  He knew exactly where he was.

  “Fish,” he said to the blazing light in his hands. “This is it. This is the beginning of our story.”

  * * *

  Micah sat on the water’s edge, staring at the horizon.

  Somewhere over the ocean, a battle raged. Micah’s friends—his family—were fighting a great evil, and he would have walked across the sea to them if he could.

  But it felt right to be here on the beach where his grandfather had first heard Circus Mirandus’s call, holding Fish’s aquarium in his lap.

  They both had decisions to make, and there was no better place to do it.

  “We’re safe now, Fish,” said Micah. “Do you think, maybe, the two of us could have a talk?”

  The light in the small round aquarium didn’t flicker.

  “That’s okay. I’ll go first.”

  Micah told the story again, about a tiny fish that had swum into a boy’s boot. About how the boy had grown up, grown old, and passed magic on to his grandson, who had loved him more than anything.

  “I’ve been thinking all this time, Fish, about how much I wanted you to stay at Circus Mirandus. I knew you had your own work to do, but it seemed like it would be perfect for the two of us to be there together. It would be almost like one last gift from Grandpa Ephraim, if I was your Someone, and you were my Fish.”

  Yes.

  It wasn’t quite a thought. Nor a word. It was more a feeling inside Micah, and he knew it had come from Fish.

  He nodded. “If you decide you want me to help you, I’ll do my best. Whatever kind of Idea you are, I’ll try to make it happen.”

  Fish burned so bright suddenly that Micah had to cover the top of the tank with his hands so that he could still see. And Fish’s feelings were clearer now.

  Safe. Micah was a friend, and he would keep the Idea safe. And maybe it wouldn’t be perfect, but it would still be good. They would still do great things together. Fish could feel it, like a tug deep in his belly.

  Micah understood.

  “I guess you didn’t realize how scary the world could be,” he said. “And now you know terrible things can happen. But, Fish, that’s exactly why you have to do what you came here to do. You’re important, and this isn’t your Moment.”

  Micah looked down at his hands. The light was shining through his fingers.

  “I would love to keep you,” he said. “But I’ve got magic of my own I haven’t even figured out. And I’ve got an idea of my own about who I want to be. I’m going to be a magician at Circus Mirandus, Fish. And that’s right for me, but that doesn’t mean it’s right for you.”

  He reached for the locator knot tied around his finger. It was still pulling at him, tugging his hand toward Fish, who was swimming below. Micah dug his thumbnail under the gray thread, took a deep breath, and ordered it to come loose.

  It snapped, and for the first time since Micah had picked it up, the light in the aquarium dimmed a little.

  “There,” said Micah. “I think that might have been confusing you.”

  He ran his fingers over the top of the aquarium, feeling for the tiny dimple in the glass that would open it. He found it and prodded it until the glass on top of the shrunken tank disappeared.

  “Hi,” said Micah, staring down into the water, where a goldfish-sized spark swam in frightened circles. “I think I need to show you something.”

  He reached for his left arm and tugged one of his bracelets over his wrist. “Here’s a memory of Rosebud,” he said. “The circus couldn’t do without her. She’s a healer, and she’s saved so many people’s lives with her potions.”

  He dropped the bracelet into the water. It shrank to a speck, and Fish, as always, swallowed it.

  “This one’s for Firesleight,” said Micah, tugging off an orange-and-copper bracelet and dropping it into the tank, too. “Do you know she can control dragonflame? I bet nobody else has ever been able to do that in the whole history of the world. And if she’d gone off and done something different with her life because she was scared or because it seemed easier than mastering her fire magic, then everyone at the circus might be dead.”

  He went one by one, memory by memory, magician by magician. He kept on until his left arm was bare, and then he reached into his pocket and pulled out the last piece of twine.

  “Hold on, Fish,” he said. “This one’s never worked well before.”

  After meeting his grandmother, Micah understood what he’d been getting wrong with the Lightbender’s bracelet all this time. He tied the twine carefully, and the knots came together one by one. He included the illusionist’s magic, his leather coat, the way he talked. He included memories of that day in the Lost and Found, when the Lightbender had been so upset about missing Micah’s birthday. He included his own worry about the magician, his hope that Terpsichore had carried his guardian to safety.

  And through it all, he wove in one final truth that made everything come together.

  “This is the Lightbender, Fish,” he said, holding the knotted twine over the water. “He could have done just about anything he wanted. Victoria thought he should have been rich and famous and powerful. But instead he catches spiders in coffee cups, and he puts on shows for little kids. And when someone asks him to adopt a boy he barely even knows, he says yes.”

  He let the twine fall into the aquarium, and he watched Fish gulp it down.

  “If the Lightbender had done something else with his life, then neither one of us would be sitting on this beach right now,” said Micah. “It’s important to do the right thing. Even if it’s hard.”

  Many of the things Micah had done today had been difficult. But at some point, he thought, you had to take your own stand against the darkness
in the world, whatever it might cost you. Circus Mirandus did it one way. The Sisterhood another. And Micah could do his part, too, by telling Fish the truth.

  “We’ve got a lot in common, Fish, and I’d love to be your Someone. But I’m not.”

  Micah knew Fish understood because his light was steadily dimming. A few minutes later, he was a little silver fish. Small enough, Micah figured, to swim into somebody’s boot.

  “Good for you,” said Micah. “Now I guess we wait here until someone decides to come and get us.”

  No, said Fish.

  It wasn’t hard to understand him at all now. Micah was getting used to the language of Ideas.

  It’s time to find my Someone. They’re ready for me, and we’ve got a lot of work to do.

  * * *

  Micah wasn’t sure what would happen when Fish left the aquarium. If he turned huge right away, Micah didn’t want him to be stranded in the shallows.

  So he waded into the ocean, ignoring the achingly cold water that soaked his pants and his shirt. When he was up to his chest, he said, “You’re sure, right?”

  And he knew Fish was.

  “I’m going to miss you,” said Micah. “You’ve been the best listener in the world.”

  He lowered the tank into the water, and Fish swam out.

  He circled Micah a few times, growing bigger and bigger, his silver scales flashing in the sun. And then, with one swish of his powerful tail, he headed out to sea.

  Micah stared at the horizon, waiting and hoping, and a couple of minutes later, Fish leaped. He was as big as a whale, and the splash he made when he landed sent a wave of water right over the top of Micah’s head.

  THE MOST IMPORTANT PART

  Micah walked up and down the beach, rubbing his arms and shivering, willing his wet clothes and hair to dry faster. He worried a little more with every step he took. Were his friends all right? The animals? The Lightbender?

  There was a town, he knew, a short walk from here. And it occurred to him that the smart thing would be to head in that direction.

  Maybe he could find a warm drink. Or a towel.

  Maybe he could borrow someone’s phone and call Jenny’s house.

  Peal wasn’t nearby, but Micah was sure her parents could get here in a few hours. And he knew that they would do it, too, the second he told them what had happened.

  It sounded like a good idea. But Micah decided not to go through with it.

  This beach was where Porter had sent him, and it felt almost like Micah would be jinxing the circus if he left. And anyway, every inch he walked away from the ocean would be an inch farther from home.

  Tonight, he decided. If nobody comes for me, I’ll find a phone and call Jenny.

  He looked up at the sun. He thought it was noon here, maybe a bit later. He still had hours to wait.

  Micah’s clothes dried. He shivered a little less.

  Soon, he thought. Someone will come.

  He sat down and played a game with himself, trying to figure out who would come and get him, and when they would arrive.

  The Lightbender was out of the question, of course. Rosebud would have patched him up by now, but his illusions would be needed to hide either the circus or the magicians and animals Porter had evacuated.

  Bowler would definitely volunteer for the job. He hadn’t looked hurt when Micah had seen him during the fight.

  He would come when Micah counted to a thousand. Porter would send him in that same strange way he’d sent Micah. He would push Bowler from England right to this beach in nine hundred ninety-eight, nine hundred ninety-nine, nine hundred ninety-nine and a half . . .

  Well.

  Bowler was probably busy. The Strongfolk would be up to their shoulders in work for ages. The menagerie had burned, after all. There would be animals to manage and wreckage to deal with.

  Rosebud couldn’t come. The healer probably wouldn’t sleep for days. She’d be tending to people and animals, saving all of them, each and every one.

  And Firesleight—she’d be too exhausted from dealing with the dragon.

  It would be Dulcie, Micah decided. The confectioner would show up with the pockets of her overalls stuffed full of experimental sweets, and Micah wouldn’t complain when she forced him to try some. Not even if they made him cough up snowflakes.

  She would appear when Micah counted to three thousand. He’d do it more slowly than before.

  “Two thousand nine hundred ninety-nine and three- quarters,” Micah said out loud over an hour later. “Three thousand.”

  He looked around. He was still alone on the beach.

  Circus Mirandus can handle a dragon, he told himself. Circus Mirandus can handle anything.

  The sun was sinking steadily at his back.

  * * *

  It was nearly evening when Micah finally heard feet crunching toward him.

  He’d been lying with his face pressed to the uncomfortable pebbles for a long while, and when he stood up, his whole body was stiff and achy. But that didn’t stop him from running toward the magician in the long leather coat.

  “I knew it would be you!” Micah shouted, grabbing the Lightbender around the middle. “I knew you were all right!”

  The Lightbender made a pained sound, and Micah let him go. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “Did I hurt you when I strapped you to Terp?”

  The Lightbender had two black eyes, and his nose was swollen. But he was smiling.

  “Cracked ribs,” he said. He leaned forward and hugged Micah back gingerly. “Although I think that happened when Terpsichore threw me off in the middle of a parking lot in Norwich, not when you tied me to her.”

  The Lightbender scanned Micah from head to toe, his eyes pausing on the split lip, the busted chin, the shirt dried stiff with salt from the sea and Victoria’s blood.

  “You are freezing,” said the illusionist. He held up one arm, and Micah realized his peacoat was draped over it.

  “I left this on top of Chintzy’s bunker,” Micah said, reaching for it. “Does this mean she’s okay? And Porter’s warehouse?”

  “They would argue with that assessment,” the Lightbender said. “But, yes, Chintzy is safe. And the warehouse still stands, though we had difficulty finding a door that would lead to this place in the mess. Most of the tents will be all right. Only the menagerie is unsalvageable.”

  “And everybody. Is everybody . . .”

  The Lightbender’s face was serious. “A few of the animals are missing, and we presume at least some of them must have been taken by birds. But we hope most are in hiding. As for the magicians, we will all be fine.”

  “Even the Inventor?” Micah said quickly. “And Yuri? And Firesleight?”

  “All of us,” he said. “And you? Are you all right, Micah?”

  Micah knew the Lightbender wasn’t asking about his physical injuries. He’d had plenty of time to think about what had happened to his grandmother and the role he had played.

  “Victoria’s dead,” he said.

  The Lightbender nodded.

  “I untied her connection to one of the dire hawks. And it killed her.”

  “Porter said as much.” The Lightbender spoke cautiously. “The hawks joined in to defeat the dragon. Most of the remaining magical birds did. They appeared to be in a . . . celebratory mood.”

  Micah sighed. “It was horrible,” he said. “And I’m glad she’s gone.”

  The Lightbender put a hand on his shoulder. “I am so sorry you had to play a part in it. But more than that, I am so very proud of you.”

  Micah smiled. “Can we go home now?”

  The Lightbender grimaced. “I wish so,” he said. “But I am afraid we’re on our own for a couple of days.”

  “Days? Don’t you need to get back to the circus?”

  “Porter’s feeling a little
under the weather,” said the Lightbender.

  Micah said, “He sent me here without using a Door. I didn’t even know he could do that.”

  The illusionist nodded. “A tremendous magic, and he was nearly insensible from the effort when I found him and dragged him to Rosebud.”

  Micah raised his eyebrows at his guardian. “Did you ask her to heal Porter just so you could come here?”

  “Yes, I did,” said the Lightbender. “He told me if I even suggested he bring us back tonight, he would send me to the South Pole.”

  “That sounds fair,” said Micah.

  “It does,” the Lightbender agreed.

  * * *

  While they watched the sun sink into the waves, the Lightbender told Micah about the end of the battle. Once Firesleight had gained mastery over the dragon’s flames, the fight had turned. The birds from Victoria’s flock had distracted Conflagration, harrying him until he flew close enough to the ground for the Strongfolk to engage.

  “They drove Thuja’s arrows deeper into his sides, toward his heart, and Firesleight set them aflame.”

  Apparently, that was how dragons killed other dragons—by burning their hearts, which were the only parts of them that weren’t completely fireproof.

  Micah shuddered, feeling a little sorry for Conflagration, despite the fact that he would have gone on slaughtering everyone and everything at the circus.

  Then it was his turn to talk.

  When he told the Lightbender about giving Fish all his bracelets, the illusionist looked surprised. “That was kind of you,” he said. “I know how hard you’ve worked on those.”

  “I kept my bootlace,” said Micah, lifting his sleeve to show the Lightbender his wrist. “I can replace everything else. Do you think Fish will find his Someone soon?”

  “Yes,” said the Lightbender. “Geoffrey did think it would be sometime this year.”

  “But will we know when it happens?”

  The Lightbender shook his head. “I do not think so,” he said. “At least not right away. It can take an Idea many years to come to fruition, you know. Even after someone has conceived of it.”