Order of the Majestic

by Matt Myklusch

  “I’m glad you’re feeling better, but how did things get like this to begin with? Why did you go away?”

  Redondo grimaced. “I had my reasons.”

  “Grayson Manchester?” Joey asked.

  Redondo didn’t answer except to give Joey a hard, side-eyed stare, silently warning him not to pursue this subject, but Joey would not be dissuaded.

  “It was because of him, wasn’t it? Who was he?”

  Redondo let out a reluctant sigh. “My assistant.”

  “The guy in the top hat told me to ask what happened to him.”

  “I’ll bet he did.”

  “And?”

  There was a loud crack as new fissures emerged in the theater walls. Paint peeled, lights faded, and the burn marks around the stage returned. They spread out as if an invisible giant were smearing ink on the wall with oversize fingers. Redondo surveyed the fresh damage to the theater, or rather, the return of the old damage, and hung his head. “I’m tired,” he said, his voice turning cold. “I need to rest. Let yourself out please.”

  Redondo returned to the couch without giving Joey another look. He was done talking. This time, rather than push the matter any further, Joey let it go. Magicians never reveal their secrets, he thought. Redondo clearly wanted to hold on to this one, but Joey could guess what had happened and it didn’t bode well for the future. He went up the attic stairs. By the time he reached the top step, Redondo was already out cold. Somewhat shaken, Joey left the room, coming out on the stage down below. Leanora and Shazad were on him the second he exited the trapdoor.

  “All right, let’s hear it,” Shazad said. “What happened over there? Why did you break the mirror?”

  “Why did you have the wand?” Leanora added, more urgently. “Did someone come after you? Was it the Invisible Hand?”

  Joey said nothing. He was lost in thought.

  “What did Redondo want to talk to you about?” Leanora pressed. Taking note of Joey’s bewildered state, she guided him to a chair backstage and sat him down. “What is it? What did he say? What’s wrong?”

  Joey looked up at the window to Redondo’s office. He thought about the newspaper headlines he had read about Grayson Manchester, the boy lost in the fire. He thought about the burn marks on the stage and Redondo’s scarred hand. What could have made Redondo hang up his tuxedo for twenty long years? Only one thing made sense.

  “I think Redondo might have gotten his old assistant killed.”

  12 Journey into Mystery

  Shazad and Leanora were shocked. “What are you talking about?” Shazad snapped.

  “That can’t be true,” Leanora said.

  “I think it can,” Joey replied, looking grim. “I’m not saying I want it to be true. I’m just saying it’s possible. You don’t think it might explain why Redondo’s been living here like a hermit all this time?”

  Shazad’s and Leanora’s expressions cycled through a mix of emotions ranging from confusion, to uneasiness, to skepticism. “Where’s all this coming from?” Shazad asked. “We asked you what happened over there. This is what you tell us?”

  “Joey, focus,” Leanora said. She took him by the shoulders. “Go back to the beginning. What happened in the mirror world? Start there. We’re in the dark right now. Fill us in.”

  “Right.” Joey took a breath. “Sorry,” he said, settling down a bit. He wasn’t used to being the one dispensing information. Joey backed up and went through the whole story, trying to stay calm. He told Leanora and Shazad how the Invisible Hand had ambushed him on the other side of the mirror and how Redondo had saved him but needed help getting out of there. Shazad balked at Joey’s account of using Houdini’s wand to defend himself.

  “I’m sorry, this is too much,” Shazad said in a huff. “That didn’t happen.”

  “He did come out of the mirror holding the wand,” Leanora reminded Shazad.

  “I know. I saw,” Shazad said, a hard edge to his voice. “I also know no one else can use the wand while Redondo’s alive. How do you explain that?”

  “I can’t,” Joey admitted. “Even Redondo couldn’t figure that out. You think I know?”

  “Do the rules change when the wand’s master is dying?” Leanora asked. “Maybe it’s testing the waters. Trying new people out.”

  “It doesn’t work like that,” Shazad said. His voice was firm. Certain. “The wand obeys one person at a time. Everyone knows that. We all held it yesterday. Nothing happened.”

  “I’m telling you what happened today,” Joey said. “You don’t have to believe me, but it’s true.”

  Shazad looked concerned. “Why would the wand pick you?”

  “Why would you say Redondo got his old assistant killed?” Leanora asked.

  Joey went back into his tale, repeating what the man in the top hat and scarf had said about Redondo not being able to take care of his people. He followed that up with the story of the first time the two of them had crossed paths. The late-night threats… the death-by-fire illusion… It all lined up with the articles Joey had read about the Majestic Theatre burning down and the child who was lost in the blaze.

  “What did you say his name was?” Leanora asked.

  “The boy? Grayson Manchester.”

  Leanora’s eye twitched. Joey noticed.

  “What is it?”

  She shook him off. “Just go on.”

  “Redondo told me the kid was his assistant,” Joey continued. “He seemed pretty broken up about it. I’m guessing he must have died in the fire. Look around. The burn marks are right here on the stage. You’re standing on them.”

  Leanora nodded, looking down. “They seem to come and go,” she observed.

  “I know. It’s weird,” Joey agreed. “This whole theater is tied to Redondo’s mood. He’s the only thing keeping it together. That’s one of the reasons why I think this is for real. I asked him about Manchester up there in his office, and the burn marks came back! Something happened here. Whatever it was, I can tell it haunts him. Big-time. Everyone back in New York thinks this place burned down, but only because Redondo brought the theater here after the fire. Why would he do that? And why did he refuse your parents when they asked him to take you on as his assistant before this? What could have happened at his last show that was so bad he had to go into hiding for twenty years?” Joey leaned back and let Leanora and Shazad draw their own conclusions. “I can think of only one thing.”

  “I don’t like this,” Shazad said.

  “I like it even less,” Leanora replied. “Grayson Manchester… I’ve heard that name before.”

  “What?” Joey and Shazad asked at the same time.

  Leanora had the look of somebody contemplating a reality she didn’t want to face. Joey and Shazad both shut up and waited on her explanation. When she finally spoke, it was clear she took no pleasure in doing so.

  “Years ago, when I was much younger… I remember hearing some of my people… elders… They were talking about Redondo and someone called Grayson Manchester. I don’t remember the details. I’m not sure I ever knew them. I wasn’t old enough to understand, but… I do remember the name. And I remember the way they sounded when they were talking… the looks on their faces.”

  Shazad’s eyes narrowed. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying… whatever happened with Redondo and his assistant, it ended badly. I’m sure of that much at least.” Leanora had a grave expression on her face. “It’s possible Joey is right about this. If it’s true, it changes everything.”

  “How do we find out for sure?” Joey asked her. “Redondo doesn’t want to talk about it.”

  “He doesn’t have to,” Leanora said. “I know someone who can show us what happened that night.”

  Joey leaned forward. “Did you say show us?”

  Leanora nodded. She paused to check her watch and do some quick math in her head. “We can go see him now. He should still be awake, even with the time difference.”

  “Time difference?”
Joey asked. “Where is he?”

  “Siberia.”

  “Siberia?” Joey laughed. “You want to go to Siberia? Now?”

  “Why not?”

  Joey stared at Leanora. “Are you serious?”

  “Of course I’m serious. Are you coming?” Joey was speechless. Leanora turned to Shazad. “What do you think?”

  Shazad looked back and forth between her and Joey. “You want my honest opinion? I think someone finally realized what we’re up against here, and he’s having second thoughts.”

  “That’s not what this is,” Joey said.

  “I’m not trying to hurt your feelings. I’ve already said you have nothing to be ashamed of,” Shazad said, extending an olive branch. “The Invisible Hand is every bit as bad as I said they were. Now you know. I think you’re looking for a reason to quit without admitting you’re in over your head.” He turned to Leanora. “If you can help him find that reason, good. You should go. Both of you. The sooner the better.”

  Joey ground his teeth, cornered by his own pride. Just a few minutes ago he had seriously contemplated walking away from all of this. He had even talked to Redondo about it. But now that Joey was back and Shazad was giving him “his permission” to quit, he felt differently. Just like in the mirror world, he didn’t want Shazad to be right about him. “I already told you, I’m not quitting.”

  “You might want to reconsider that,” Leanora said. “Maybe we all should.”

  Shazad’s face lit up at the prospect of having no more rivals left in between him and the wand. Leanora nipped that in the bud, telling him, “Don’t get your hopes up. I’m not just going to walk out and forfeit my chances.”

  Shazad’s smile faded. He looked confused. “Then what—”

  “I’m going to put a stop to this,” she said. Her voice was defiant and strong.

  “What does that mean?” Joey asked.

  Leonora’s expression hardened. “If Redondo cost this boy his life, he has no business judging me. Judging any of us. I’m going to tell him that, and then I’m going to demand that he end this charade.”

  “No more competition?” Shazad said, putting it together. He liked the sound of that, Joey could tell.

  “That’s right,” Leanora said. “We take a stand. Make him decide who gets the wand before something else goes wrong. Something he can’t fix. If Joey’s telling the truth about what happened in the mirror world—”

  “I am,” Joey cut in.

  “Do you realize how close we came to disaster?” Leanora asked.

  “They almost got me,” Joey said, appreciating her concern.

  “They almost got the wand,” Leanora said, making it clear what she was really worried about. “The longer this drags on, the higher the chance is that they’re going to get it. Most likely using one of us as leverage. What is Redondo thinking, leaving himself open to that? Putting us in harm’s way if he can’t protect us? Especially if he’s lost one assistant already?”

  “We don’t know if he ever lost anyone,” Shazad said.

  “But we can find out,” Leanora countered. “If you knew that it was true, would you keep going with this? He can’t force us to compete, after all.”

  Shazad thought about what Leanora was suggesting—refusing to take part in Redondo’s competition. “If you ask me, this contest was always unnecessary,” he said after some brief soul-searching. “If this is true, it’s worse than that. It’s reckless.” Shazad nodded. “I’d prefer to be done with this. I’d tell Redondo to choose who gets the wand right now. Today. But I’d want to know what happened for a fact. And it would have to be all of us saying it. I’m not going to draw a line in the sand only to have the two of you back out on me.”

  Leanora nodded as if she would expect nothing less. “What about you?” she asked Joey. “You started this.”

  Joey put his hands up, unsure. “Look, I want to know what happened as much as you guys, maybe more, but I can’t go to Siberia. My parents don’t even know I’m here right now. They think I’m at school. I’ve got to get back. I’ve already been gone too long.”

  Leanora made a face like it was the worst excuse she had ever heard. “You worry too much. We’ll be there and back before they know you’re gone.”

  “How?”

  “Follow me.”

  Leanora led Joey and Shazad to a fake door that was located backstage. It was a stand-alone prop from some old trick, set up on a rolling platform. As she wheeled the door into place, Joey saw that it was missing a doorknob on one side.

  “What’s this?” Shazad asked.

  “This is how I get here.” Leanora fished around inside her bag and took out a golden doorknob with a large red ruby in the handle. “This doorknob has been in my family for generations. I can use it to go anywhere—just about,” she added.

  Leanora fit the doorknob into place and tugged back gently, testing the connection. It locked into position without the help of any tools. She twisted it a few times and tapped the ruby until it glowed bright red. “Red means go,” she said happily. “I told you it wouldn’t take long.” She opened the door to reveal a dense forest full of tall trees, thick with pine needles. A gentle breeze blew into the theater, announcing a pleasant spring evening.

  “This is Siberia?” Joey asked, marveling at the unspoiled green world that had suddenly appeared on the other side of the door. “I thought it was all snow and ice.”

  “In the far north, yes. It is. This forest, however, is in the southern region, near the Podkamennaya Tunguska River. It’s actually very nice this time of year.” She stepped through the portal. “Are you coming?”

  Shazad followed Leanora into the woods without asking any questions. Joey hesitated. He knew he should be heading back to Exemplar before he was missed, but curiosity got the better of him and he found himself going along. The opportunity was simply too amazing to pass up. No matter how scared he was of the man in the top hat and the scarf, he wasn’t ready to walk away from this adventure just yet.

  He stepped through the door, consciously appreciating everything he saw and felt as he crossed the threshold. The switch from day to night, the instantaneous change in temperature, the fresh smell of the forest glade… Despite all that he had been through in the last day and a half, he was not yet numb to the wonders of seeing magic in action.

  Joey joined Leanora and Shazad on a thin forest trail. After crossing over, he turned around and saw that he had exited through a door in a small woodshed. The door was left open, and through it he could see the Majestic Theatre stage lit up like a star in the night. “Don’t close that,” Leanora said, leaning in to retrieve the magic doorknob from the other side of the door. “We’ll need this if we want to get back home.” The golden doorknob came off in her hand as easily as it had gone on. Once she had it, Leanora pulled the woodshed door shut behind her.

  Unable to resist, Joey opened it back up for a quick peek. The theater was gone, replaced by stacks of firewood. Leanora returned the doorknob to her bag and took out what Joey initially thought was a pair of night-vision goggles. He made the mistake of saying so out loud, much to Shazad’s and Leanora’s great amusement.

  “We don’t use technology like that.” Shazad laughed. “That’s for norms who don’t have magic.”

  I walked right into that one, Joey thought, kicking himself. Feeling an urge to defend the norms of the world, he echoed Janelle’s sentiments from earlier that day. “You know, some people say magic is just science we haven’t figured out yet.”

  “Do they?” Leanora asked, putting on the goggles. “It’ll be a while before anyone figures out how to make these.” Her goggles had a brown leather strap in the back and thick bronze wraparound frames with gearlike dials set on either side. Leanora turned the dials, clicking different lenses into place like some kind of steampunk optometrist. “These are time-lapse lenses,” she explained. “I can use them to see who was here before us. Let’s start with this morning.…” She turned the dials once and took
a look around. Nothing. “Yesterday…” She slid a new lens into position and scanned the site again. Still nothing. She turned the dial one more time. “One week.”

  “Maybe I should take a look,” Shazad suggested.

  Leanora wasn’t having it. “Quiet. I have to concentrate. There, I’ve got him.”

  “Who?” Joey asked.

  “A man called Kuriev. This way,” she said, choosing a direction and pointing.

  Joey and Shazad followed her as she struck off, hiking through an overgrown forest path. “What are you seeing?” Joey asked.

  Leanora described a ghost image of an old man carrying firewood. “It’s faint, but I can see it well enough in the moonlight. We’ll use it to follow him home.”

  “Home?” Shazad repeated. “I thought you Nomadiks didn’t put down roots anywhere.”

  “We don’t. Kuriev left our clan.”

  “Gave up the traveling life, did he?” Shazad asked.

  “He got old,” Leanora said without judgment. “He retired.”

  “Out here?” Joey asked, stepping carefully through the wild forest with only his socks to cover his feet. They were hundreds of miles away from civilization. “This place wouldn’t have been my first choice. Unless, of course, there’s a secret fairy-tale village hidden around here somewhere. Like a magical retirement community? Is that where we’re going?”

  Leanora looked at Joey. It took her a second to realize he was serious. “The things you say… Is that what you think it’s like for us?”

  Joey shrugged, wondering what was so ridiculous about the idea of a hidden magical village. “I’ve seen stranger things.”

  Leanora shook her head. “It’s incredible how little you know.”

  “Why don’t you tell me what it’s like, then?”

  “It’s no fairy tale,” Leanora said, stepping over a large, twisted tree root and pressing on through the brush. “There’s no such thing as a ‘magic community.’ Not for retirees or anyone else. Magicians don’t socialize or live together in secret storybook villages. If they did, the Invisible Hand would raid those places and steal whatever it was that made them special. People who keep magic artifacts know this. They maintain a low profile. They scatter themselves and live anonymously, jealously guarding what they have. Most of the world’s magicians use their relics in secret or not at all. Like Shazad’s family.”