Hugo sighed and sat down across from him. “Promise me we won’t do anything like this ever again.”
Cannon laughed. “If I hadn’t come, you would be doing this all by yourself.”
Hugo shook his head. “If you hadn’t come, I wouldn’t be doing this at all.”
Cannon gave him a shrewd look, as if trying to decide whether he was joking. At length, he shrugged. “What are friends for?” he said. “Okay. The last few seconds are going to be the hardest, but don’t give in. On three, then. One, two, three.”
Cannon shut his mouth and Hugo clamped his fingers over his nose and mouth.
As it turned out, the last few seconds were even harder than Hugo had imagined. He was amazed at how many things could flash through his mind in such a short amount of time: growing up at the castle. The first time he imagined being a mage. Meeting Tabitha. Getting tortured by the Kutha. Brinley putting a ball of light into his heart. Seeing the face of darkness for the first time. Brinley taking his hand inside the stone.
In the last second, his body thrashed, aching for breath. Then everything went dark.
He woke up in the heart of the Mechanism. He was standing on what looked like a high green catwalk in the midst of space. It stopped several feet away, and then there was nothing, just an emerald mist. Above his head was a complex network of wheels and gears, pins and holes and locks. Cannon and Lashé were waiting for him.
“We made it,” Cannon said, grinning.
Lashé was doing a better job of controlling himself. “We’re not out yet. But the gate is there.” He pointed to the end of the narrow catwalk. “You go first, Hugo. The gatekeeper will not want to speak with me.”
“Gatekeeper?” Hugo said. “He won’t? Why?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Lashé said, and he pushed Hugo down the catwalk.
When they reached the end of it, Hugo saw that what he had taken for an empty green mist was not empty at all. There was a high-backed chair in the midst of it, like a throne, and upon it sat a very stern-looking woman. She was made of white stone, as if she had been carved out of marble, but she was very much alive. “Hugo, Mage of Light and Darkness, you seek to leave this place?”
“I do,” Hugo said.
“Then you must prove that you have changed.”
“Changed?”
The woman nodded solemnly. “You must demonstrate that you have become what you came here to become. Learned what you came here to learn.”
“But I didn’t come here to learn anything,” Hugo said. “I didn’t mean to come here at all, I just didn’t have any other choice!”
“There is always another choice,” the woman said. “And whether you meant to come here or not, there are no true accidents. You came here for a reason.”
“What reason is that?” Hugo said.
“You came here to learn that you must do what is necessary. You came here because it was necessary to save a life. What will you do when it is necessary to take one? You came here to learn your duty as a mage. You came here to find your path. Now you must walk it.”
“How?” Hugo asked.
The woman lifted her hands. In one she held an apple, in the other, a long, curving black knife. She held them out to him, and a moment later they disappeared from her hands and reappeared in his own.
“That’s one of the invisibility apples,” Hugo said.
“Yes,” the woman said. “It will allow you to go unnoticed into Shael’s chambers.”
“And do what?” Hugo said, guessing at the answer. He was busy examining the knife. The blade was of black stone, hard as glass and sharper than a shaving razor. Dangerous and Beautiful.
She pointed to the knife with one hand, and brought her other fist down sharply on the arm of the chair. “End him! Do not attempt to stem the tide of darkness or light within you. You are to be their servant, not their master, and you serve them best by staying out of their way.”
Hugo took a bite of the apple. “How do you know that the darkness will want Shael dead?” Hugo asked skeptically.
“It does not matter how I know what I know,” she said. “It only matters that you go and do.” She raised her hands above her head, and Hugo felt a sharp tug around his middle. In an instant, the catwalk was gone, and he was standing in a lavish bedchamber. Dim light poured through a series of long rectangular windows to his right, and a large, lush, silk-covered bed sprawled before him. It was empty. He turned slowly and gasped. Shael was there, sitting at a table to his left. He was halfway through his breakfast, a grape poised on the tip of his fork, and he was staring directly at Hugo.
Chapter Twenty
In which Hugo makes a choice
It took a moment for Hugo to realize that those metal-colored eyes were not actually looking at him. Shael was looking through him, out the window. He ate his grape and stroked his black beard thoughtfully, then stabbed another grape. All the while he stared out the window. Finally Hugo turned to follow his gaze. Just as in the throne room, these windows looked out over the city. The fires seemed to have spread to a quarter of the buildings before they were put out. Here and there thin towers of smoke bore witness to the small sections that were still ablaze.
Behind him, Shael bit into a piece of toast with an audible crunch. Hugo walked gingerly around the table, careful not to bump anything. Shael might not be able to see him, but he could probably hear him just fine.
Hugo positioned himself behind Shael and stared down at the top of Shael’s bald head. The faint light glanced off it so that Hugo could see the muscles around the edge of Shael’s head ripple and relax as he chewed.
There was a knock at the door.
“Come,” Shael said.
A nervous-looking man in a black robe entered the room. “My lord,” he began, “it seems that in the excitement of the fire, Lashé has gained entrance to the keep. Two men—perhaps the two fugitives—were with him. They have gone into the Mechanism.”
“I am aware,” Shael said. “It does not matter. They will not escape.” He waved the servant away and the man closed the door behind him.
Shael took another bite of toast and chewed slowly. “They will not escape,” he repeated softly to himself. “I never did, so how could they?”
Hugo took a step back and pressed himself against the wall. He cleared his mind and watched his thoughts as Lashé had taught him, until the noisy mechanism of his own brain had wound to a stop and he was left alone in the silence. The darkness welled up within himself, and he watched it.
Kill him! it shouted. Do it now, before we lose our chance! Hugo watched the darkness rise, linger, and then fade. Then he felt the light within him rise.
Let him live, it whispered. We are not his executioner.
Hugo wondered what would happen if he gave up control as Lashé suggested, and just let the two forces decide for themselves what to do with his body. He wondered if that was even possible. Molad was the force of darkness. He had let go before and allowed Molad to take control, but who was the force of light, if not himself? He put a hand to his chest and tried to remember what it had felt like when Brinley had placed the light inside him. He could feel it there still, when he really thought about it, like a miniature sun inside his heart that flared to life under the light of his attention. He gazed at it with his mind’s eye now, and it seemed to glow. This was the light, but it did not seek to control him like the darkness did. It did not fight or strain to get its way. How then, if he gave up his own will to Molad, would there ever be balance?
But Lashé had shown him the path. He raised the knife thoughtfully. Maybe Lashé was right. It had seemed like the truth when they had spoken together. He was sure it was the truth. That meant that he should surrender control to Molad. Stop resisting him. Didn’t it? But Molad would kill Shael. He could feel it. He wanted Shael to die. No. That wasn’t it. He wanted Shael to die by Hugo’s hand. That part was important. It had to be Hugo that killed him. Hugo that decided. But why would that matter? Why did the
darkness want Shael dead?
He is out of balance, Molad whispered. He has gone too far. He has turned the world against us. Without his death, we may never be free of this place.
All good reasons. All true. Hugo slipped the knife from its sheath. Maybe he was holding on too tightly. Maybe his ideas of light and darkness, good and bad, were too strict. Maybe, as the one in charge of balancing light and dark, he needed to embrace the idea of a gray area.
He took a step forward. Ending Shael’s life seemed like a gray area now. It was wrong, but it didn’t seem bad. It was right, but it didn’t seem good. Was it just? Did he deserve to die?
More importantly, if Hugo relinquished control to Molad, and Molad killed Shael, would Hugo be responsible? Would it be the same as doing it himself?
It felt like it. He had the power to keep Molad from doing it. So surrendering to the will of the darkness was the same thing as doing the works of darkness himself.
Molad lurched within him, not taking control, but offering to take it. Not forcing, but asking.
Surrender, Molad said. Give us control, the light and the darkness, and we will govern ourselves.
How do I know that this is the right path? Hugo said.
You don’t know until you try it, Molad whispered back.
Hugo took a step back again and sheathed the knife. He stuck it in his belt and took the smooth black stone from his pocket. Closing his eyes, he threw his thoughts into the stone and saw in his mind’s eye the Magemother’s lightfall.
Brinley was standing there, waiting for him, as always. She met him with a hug, and at her touch he was filled with peace and comfort.
“Why did it take you so long to come back?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Hugo said sheepishly. “Because it isn’t real, I guess. I mean…you’re not really Brinley…”
She considered him thoughtfully. “No,” she agreed, “Brinley’s love is truly here, and the peace that she gave you. They’re just as real as if she were here.”
“I suppose,” he said. “But I came here for advice. That’s what I need, and you’re not her, you’re just my imagination.”
“Perhaps I am that part of you that understands yourself the best.”
Hugo nodded slowly. “That makes sense, I guess. And, well, I always seem to understand myself better when I’m around you. Around Brinley, I mean.”
Brinley nodded.
“What should I do, then?” Hugo asked.
“Well, you shouldn’t kill Shael,” Brinley said.
Hugo laughed. “I know that.”
“Do you?”
“I think so,” Hugo said. “It gets so confusing, though. I mean, I know that everything Lashé told me was the truth. At least, I think it was.”
Brinley put her hand into the lightfall and watched it stream around her fingers like water. “The truth is not confusing, Hugo,” she said. “It’s simple. If you have the truth, then you shouldn’t be confused. If you’re confused, you probably don’t have the truth.”
“Or maybe I just don’t understand it yet,” Hugo said.
“Maybe,” she agreed. “But remember this: you’re the Mage of Light and Darkness. You should not be confused. If you are, then light and darkness themselves will become confused, and that will prove the ruin of the world.”
She touched his face and for a brief moment Hugo was filled, with that perfect, inexplicable peace. Then she fell out of view and Hugo leaned away from the wall, returning the stone to his pocket.
He took the knife out of his belt and dropped it. It clattered on the stone tiles, but to Hugo’s surprise, Shael did not turn around.
“I won’t do it,” Hugo said aloud.
Still, Shael did not respond.
There were footsteps in the hallway. They made a familiar sound: Click, shuffle, click, shuffle, click. There was a knock at the door.
“Come,” Shael said, andLashé entered the room, eyeing Hugo with unmistakable disappointment. “Can you believe him?” Lashé said.
“Foolish,” Shael agreed.
“Stubborn,” Lashé pressed, taking a step closer.
“Hesitant,” Shael added, turning around now.
“Arrogant beyond belief, that after all of the truth we have shared with him, he still thinks he knows best.” Lashé stepped up to stand beside Shael, and Hugo noticed for the first time that they bore a remarkable resemblance. Then Shael flickered and vanished, like a projection that had been suddenly switched off. Lashé’s gray eyes grew harder, crisper, until they bore an unmistakable metallic sheen. His hair faded entirely from his head and his beard shortened and turned darker.
“Shael,” Hugo whispered. “Lashé. It was you the whole time.”
At his words, Shael’s plush bedroom vanished. For a moment, they were hovering in thin air where the room had been, looking out over the city, but then the city was gone as well. The sky unraveled at the edges and rolled together like a scroll, the fortress too, and the towers, and the Mechanism. It all rolled together and vanished, and Hugo found himself inside a damp stone box the size of a small bedroom. It had a low ceiling, with no doors or windows, but a single tiny chink in the roof let in enough light to cast the box’s contents into shades of gray. Cannon was there beside him, blinking in surprise, and Shael was there too, sitting on a tiny wooden stool. The only other occupant of the cell was a bedraggled potted plant in the corner, which had managed to survive by forcing one stem out of the little chink in the roof. Water was dripping off one of its leaves in a steady rhythm.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
“Welcome to the real Panthion,” Shael said with a grim smile.
Cannon slid down the wall beside Hugo. “It was all in our heads,” he said. “We were in this tiny room the whole time.”
“Why?” Hugo asked, but he could already guess the answer.
“Because I needed you to listen to me,” Shael explained.
“You needed me to trust you,” Hugo corrected.
Shael inclined his head. “I gave you an enemy to run from, and a friend to run to.”
“Were we ever really going to break out of here?” Cannon asked.
“No,” Hugo answered. “That was just a ruse. Just an exercise to bring me to a crossroads.”
“Indeed. And, as always, you refuse to follow my advice.”
“What would have happened if I had let Molad kill you?” Hugo asked. “It was just an illusion, wasn’t it?”
“Was it?”
Hugo thought about it for a moment. “I don’t suppose it matters. Surrendering to Molad knowingly would have set a precedent. Illusion or not, I expect your murder would have stained my soul somehow, poisoned it, and let Molad gain power over me.”
“Oh, yes,” Shael said. “Most effectively.”
Hugo felt a sudden rush of relief. He had been so close, but he acted right. Then again, he wasn’t out of trouble yet. “Now what? You kill us?”
Shael laughed. “Why? You have been the Mage of Light and Darkness for less than a month, and already I have been able to launch an attack on the mages, plan a war on the world, and all but break out of my prison. Your rule is working out quite nicely for me. I am more than happy to await the eventual demise that will result from you not taking my advice. Perhaps the mage who replaces you will be more receptive to the truth.”
“Your truth,” Hugo corrected.
“My truth,” Shael agreed. “If you refuse to embrace your power, the wonders we could work together will never be. But I cannot destroy you, and you will not choose to destroy me. That much has been proven already. We are at an impasse.”
“I’m not at an impasse,” Cannon said. He raised his hand and pointed it at Shael, but nothing happened.
“I’m afraid you will find your powers severely limited in here,” Shael said. “Most of what you experienced thus far was illusion. If I could use mine, for example, I assure you that I would not still be a prisoner. Elementary mind work is the most that I have been able to
muster.”
Cannon let his hand drop and walked to the plant. “At least the dripping makes sense now,” he mumbled. “We heard dripping the entire time. I suppose that should have tipped us off.”
“Did you?” Shael said, putting the tips of his fingers together thoughtfully. “That is the only other occupant of this cell. He prefers the company of his pot to me, and I must admit that I feel the same.”
“He?” Cannon said, looking confused.
Hugo shut his eyes. “Of course. Lignumis. Who did I meet before, then? Some traitor?”
“Some traitor,” Shael agreed. “How successful he was remains to be seen. We shall both find out soon enough.”
“You’re very civil, aren’t you?” Cannon remarked, gazing at Shael with a mixture of fascination and disgust.
“Don’t get used to it,” Shael said. “I will no doubt kill you as soon as Brinley opens the Panthion. For the moment, however, I see no reason why we can’t enjoy the last few hours together.”
“Not to mention that a corpse would really stink up a place this size,” Cannon said.
“There is that,” Shael agreed. “The truth is, there is no death in the Panthion. It is a prison, not a tomb. Those consigned to live out their life within its walls live forever in its walls, if you can call that living.”
As he spoke, he produced a very small table, and Hugo realized that it was covered with little divots, like the stones board that they had played on in the imaginary throne room.
“Lignumis was kind enough to lend some of his body for this little project several years ago. That was back when we were still getting along. He was only a child at the time, and became bored with prison quickly. He gave me my stool, and our game of stones, and in exchange I taught him how to play. I tried to teach him other things, but he was a very close-minded child.” He opened his coat and began to remove the game pieces, these ones made from roughly carved light- and dark-colored wood.
“Hey, how can he still change into a plant?” Cannon said. “I can’t use my powers.”
“I said that you would find your powers limited,” Shael said without looking up. He was carefully turning half of the pieces light side up and arranging them on the outside of the board. “I do not doubt that if you had a decade to devote to the effort, you could manage some small magic of your own. Lignumis was eventually able to take the shape of a plant. He actually bored that little hole in the roof of this box. Imagine that. It’s amazing what a plant can squeeze through. Unfortunately it did not weaken the prison in any way, other than to allow me to speak with people outside. I can stay in command of my troops, and Lignumis can get a drink when it rains. Beyond that, we are cut off from the outside world. Of course, his power was taken from him since then by your Magemother, so I doubt that he can change back. I doubt that he is himself at all, now.” Shael rapped the little board with his knuckles. “Come, Hugo, let us play.”
Magemother: The Complete Series (A Fantasy Adventure Book Series for Kids of All Ages) Page 80
