by Gary Jonas
I clapped Brett on the shoulder. “Good thinking.”
He looked at me like I was an idiot, which told me he didn’t sense the magic. I hid my grin as I got into the limo to change clothes.
The bag contained shoes, socks, pants, coat, shirt, and belt. All exactly like the other me wore. I stripped and got dressed in the clothes he provided.
When I stepped out of the car and stood next to him, it was like looking in a mirror.
Michael shook his head. “Wow.”
“They are genetically identical,” Gideon said.
“There are still a few differences,” Brett said.
“Sabrina, Gideon, Michael,” I said. “Turn around.”
“Why?” Sabrina asked.
“So we can test your skills at identifying us.”
“This is stupid,” Sabrina said.
“Humor me,” I said, and motioned with a twirl of my finger for them to turn the other way.
They turned.
I walked around Brett a few times. I smoothed out our suits. He gave me a weird look when I brushed his pants. We shook our hair. I adopted a more effeminate pout, and he swatted at me.
We stood side by side.
“Okay,” I said. “Which of us is which?”
They turned around and looked at us.
Whenever my twin shifted his body weight, I did the same. When he changed an expression, so did I. When he tried to signal Sabrina with a wink, I did the same.
If he winked on the other side, I simply ignored it because I knew it wouldn’t matter. Any real shift, I’d notice.
“Line up in front of the real Brett Masters,” I said.
“I’m the real one,” Brett said.
“I’m the real one,” I said with the exact same tone.
“Fine,” he said. “Line up in front of the more sophisticated Brett Masters.”
“But realize that the ramification of your choice could be detrimental to the test,” I said.
“Don’t talk like me,” he said.
“Don’t worry about it. They’ll recognize me without much difficulty.”
“They should recognize me.”
“Indeed,” I said.
He looked at me. I looked at him.
Sabrina frowned.
Michael shook his head.
Gideon nodded, possibly impressed, possibly bored. It was hard to tell.
“Walk for me,” Sabrina said.
“This will show you,” I said and walked from the limo to the Lamborghini.
“No, this will show you,” he said and followed me.
I mimicked his walk as best I could, and moved around to the driver’s side. “And as proof of the pudding,” I said with my nose in the air, “I shall separate us instantly.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out the basic key fob I’d stolen from the other Brett when I brushed his pants.
“Hey,” he said. “That’s mine.”
“Nice try, Brett,” I said.
Sabrina looked from him to me. “You have the key, but you wouldn’t have it if you were the lazy Brett.”
“He stole it from me,” Brett said.
“Right,” I said. “Because I would have the skills of a pickpocket. Don’t be ridiculous.”
Michael studied me, glanced at the other Brett. He pointed to me. “You’re the sophisticated Brett. The Brett I knew couldn’t steal a key fob without getting caught.”
Sabrina hesitated.
“Choose me, my dear or I’ll tell the good folks at A Brand New You that you detest the spa.”
“Show me your tattoo,” she said.
“Yes,” Gideon said. “Show us your tattoo.”
The other Brett folded his arms and grinned.
I smiled, slipped off my jacket and tossed it into the Lamborghini. I unbuttoned my shirt, peeled it down to reveal my left shoulder, which now sported Brett’s genuine tattoo complete with pentagram and fire.
“Cheater,” he said and pulled off his jacket. He threw it on the ground, unbuttoned his shirt enough to peel over his left shoulder and revealed unblemished skin.
“That settles it,” Sabrina said and moved to me.
“What the hell?” Brett said, staring at his shoulder. “How did you do that?”
“Father marked me when we were separated so he could tell us apart,” I said.
“But that’s seriously controlled magic.”
“Are you saying Father doesn’t have the skill to mark one of us with a tattoo?”
Gideon studied us then stepped over to his Brett. He pointed at him. “This is my Brett,” he said. “Nifty little trick, though.”
“Oh, Gideon,” I said. “I’m disappointed in you.”
He smiled and focused his magic.
I felt a pull on my entire body and I slid across the asphalt toward him.
“You forget,” he said. “I have your blood in all my rings.”
“His blood should be the same!”
“It is, but I’m focused on you.”
“Then that proves nothing because you’d be able to pull him across the parking lot, too.”
“Too late, napper boy,” Gideon said. “You gave yourself up. As such, you fail that part of the test.”
“The test hasn’t started yet.”
Gideon laughed. “You moron, the test has been going since you first arrived in Galveston a year ago. And you have a lot of failures on your report card.”
“Thank you, Gideon,” the other Brett said.
“Don’t thank me, Brett. You just failed to represent yourself as the real Brett to people who know you. You failed to prevent him from passing himself off as you. He even had me going until I saw your reaction to the missing tattoo.” Gideon winked at me. “Nice touch, that.”
“What happens now?” I asked.
“I told you what you need to do, and I do like your acting abilities, so you will take my Brett’s place for the dangerous part, and when that’s finished, you will sacrifice yourself and he’ll finish up with the magical skills test.”
My great-great grandmother dropped out of the sky and settled on the pavement behind Gideon.
“I’ve seen enough,” she said. “Nathaniel?”
A line of light shimmered open beside the limo and my father stepped out into the night. The rift sealed behind him and that section of air smoked a bit, but the wind blew the wisps away.
“Yes, Matriarch,” my father said, his head slightly bowed.
“Dealer’s choice,” she said. “It’s your son. Which do you choose to advance?”
He walked over to me and stared at the tattoo. “You’ve learned more than I thought you would.”
He walked over to the other Brett. “You let him steal your keys and your tattoo?”
“I didn’t realize he—”
My father shook his head. “Stow it,” he said. “I’m disappointed.”
“Nathaniel, you may choose,” the Matriarch said. “Or you can leave it up to them.”
He nodded. “Any real son of mine would want to prove his value.”
“I’ll happily prove myself, Father,” Brett said.
“I don’t give a shit what you think, Dad,” I said.
He laughed. “Careful, Brett. Don’t make me simplify this with a choice because that means you’ll be history.”
“Better that than someone who has to do your bidding,” I said.
My father raised a hand, ready to snap his fingers to turn me to dust, but the Matriarch stepped forward and pushed his forearm down. “You said you wanted your son to prove his worth. As such, this will be settled by combat.”
“Easy enough,” I said. I darted forward and punched Brett in the face.
His head snapped back. He touched his nose, then sat down hard on the ground.
“What the hell?” he said.
“I win,” I said.
The Matriarch rolled her eyes. She thumped me on the forehead. “Silly boy, we can’t have two of you. This combat has two simple rules. First th
ere will be magical obstacles you must overcome. And second, the battle will be to the death.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
If you kill a copy of yourself, is that murder or suicide? Asking for a friend.
I won’t bore you with the rundown of what the Matriarch said. Yeah, I didn’t really pay that much attention. Go here, do this, blah blah blah.
My mind was more on what I should do. I wasn’t a master wizard. I hadn’t studied that much. Study time meant nap time. I had magic, sure, but the other me knew how to control it.
According to Gideon, he was afraid to do much, but was that true? Was he really just hoping I’d get killed so he wouldn’t have to get his hands dirty killing me himself?
“And go,” the Matriarch said.
The other me took off running toward the large pyramid, the lines of light illuminating him as he raced ahead.
I started to run after him, but Michael grabbed my shoulder, bringing me up short. I spun to face him.
“Jesus, dude,” he whispered. “Weren’t you listening? Wait for her signal to you.”
“A bit antsy?” the Matriarch asked as she stepped up beside me. “It’s not like you to want to take action right away.”
I didn’t say anything.
We watched as the other Brett jumped onto the side of the pyramid. He raced up the slope toward the top. He looked like a businessman version of Spider-Man, drawn in white highlights against the darkness.
“And now you,” the Matriarch said.
I looked at her.
“Go,” she said, and pointed at the pyramid. “You were ready a moment ago.”
“What was the first—?” I asked.
But my father cut me off. “Go!”
“Keep your panties on,” I said. “I’m going.”
I walked to the pyramid, and looked up. The other me was at the top. I glanced back toward our audience. Michael motioned for me to go up the building.
I touched the glass. It was thick, cold, and strong. I climbed up and tried to crab-walk up, but my shoes slipped on the glass and I dropped back to the sidewalk.
That meant I needed magic to make the damn climb. Fine. I bit the inside of my cheek, focused the magic as best I could and hopped up again. This time I leaned forward, slid one leg up a bit, and did a reverse slide up the building. I focused and gained speed like up was down. It was around twelve stories to the top, and when I reached it, I launched into the air, slowed down and dropped back to the pyramid. I slid a few feet before stopping, which took more concentration to keep the magic going.
Before I could turn, the other me shot a bolt of energy my way. The blast hit me in the back and propelled me down the pyramid. I fell onto my stomach, and used my hands to try to slow down until I could push against my descent with magic.
“Dickhead,” I said under my breath.
I scrambled to get turned around so I could ascend, but my hands went through the side of the building, and I fell.
Magical obstacles.
Great.
I dropped into blackness, hit something solid, and rolled. I have no idea what I hit, but it hurt like a son of a bitch. Everything spun and I tried to bring light up through my fingers.
At that point, I fell through a thick acrylic pane into the water. The light from my fingers illuminated fish and bubbles as I sank.
I hadn’t drawn a breath, but my instincts kicked in and I held what little I had in my lungs.
If I was in a damn shark tank, I was going to be pissed. Disorientation kicked in and I didn’t know up from down. I just knew I needed to breathe.
A fish froze in front of me, startled by the light in my hands. Then it swam off into the darkness. I let out a few bubbles, and let the light show me which way they went.
Bubbles went up.
I kicked toward the surface and kept my concentration on sliding through the acrylic plate to get out of the water and back into an atmosphere where I could breathe.
A weird tingle flowed through me and I felt air. That first gulp of oxygen felt terrific.
I lay in darkness on top of some kind of platform, but I couldn’t tell where I was or what was going on. There were no lights on anywhere near me, so the only source of illumination was from the magic I sent through my fingers and hands.
With a bit of focus, I managed to expand the white light. Getting up seemed like a good idea, but something slammed into my chest and knocked me off my feet. I rolled backward, fell, hit something else, then felt water engulf me again.
The other Brett landed on the clear acrylic above me and made his hands glow enough so I could see him. He waved goodbye to me then disappeared.
Again, I needed air.
I kicked upward once more, smacked my face on the pane, and tried to phase through, but something pushed me down again.
Fucking dickhead doppelgänger shoved me deeper into the water. I tried to swim free, but the energy was like a lead weight taking me ever downward.
I hit the bottom. Well, not really the bottom, as I slid down an arc to the left. I twisted around to face downward, felt the curved pane. I needed air. I focused my magic and slid through the acrylic. Then I dropped a good nine feet to hit the floor. I coughed and breathed and coughed some more.
Everything hurt.
I wanted to just lay there for a while.
Couldn’t it be nap time?
But I knew the other Brett would have to come after me.
I pushed myself to my hands and knees. Then I straightened and looked like a penitent man. I raised my hands, and cast a ball of light into the air. I was in a hallway with an arced tunnel inside the aquarium. Fish swam on the other side of the panes. I pushed my wet hair out of my eyes.
I shoved the light ahead of me a ways. If the other Brett wanted to take a shot at me, odds were good he’d aim for the light, and if I wasn’t right there with it, maybe I could survive the next attack.
Once I had the light cast, it was easy enough to move it forward with my mind to lead me out of the tunnel. I found an access door. It was locked, but I’m a wizard, so I magicked it open and stepped into a locker room filled with wet suits, oxygen tanks, masks, fins, and such. I wasn’t a scuba diver and didn’t know the first thing about how to set myself up with the gear. On top of that, I didn’t feel there was time for that sort of thing.
A better plan was simply to avoid being in the damn water again. I went back into the main hall, and followed it around. There was a penguin exhibit, but I wasn’t wearing a tuxedo, so I didn’t go in. There was a Gulf of Mexico Rig Exhibit, which seemed odd. Why would you put a two-story oil rig in an aquarium?
My sense of direction sucked and next thing I knew I was back in that goddamn tunnel. I pushed the light through the wall into the water. Sharks swam in the tank. If I’d known they were there, I might have shit my damn pants while I was in the water. There was also a rum-runner pirate ship on the floor. Why was there a shipwrecked pirate vessel?
My light danced and swirled, illuminating sting rays and fish.
“Hello, Brett,” my voice said behind me.
I spun, bringing my hands up and pushing a magic shield between me and my twin.
A light popped into existence above us. The other Brett was soaking wet, too. He was bleeding from a gash on his forehead.
“Father and the Matriarch have a bunch of magic traps scattered around here. It seems we’ve both managed to trigger a few of them.”
“You tried to drown me,” I said.
He shrugged. The minimal light from his spell made him look deranged. “Gideon tells me you know the saying from the Highlander movies.”
“There can be only one,” I said.
He gave me a nod and pointed at me. “It won’t be you.”
The magic he threw that time, bounced off my force field.
“Nice block,” he said.
He put his hands out before him, squinted, and drew up a bunch of magic.
I didn’t want to get blasted, so I steppe
d forward and punched him in the nose.
“Fuck!” he said and grabbed his nose.
I kicked him in the balls.
He crumpled to the floor.
“Cheater,” he said, his voice strained.
“How about a nice knuckle sandwich,” I said and threw another punch.
But he blocked my swing with magic, grabbed my arm and reached out to shove my head back. He pushed himself to his feet and slammed me against the side of the clear tunnel wall.
“Pass,” he said with a grin.
“Fast recovery from getting racked,” I said, trying to push him away.
“Magic cup,” he said. “Time to end this before Father throws more obstacles at us.”
His eyes glinted and he worked a quick spell. He shoved my head through the acrylic wall into the water and sealed its pane around my neck.
“Can you breathe water?” he asked.
At least that’s what I think he said. I was busy trying to hold my breath and pull myself back into the tunnel.
I was at an awkward angle, and couldn’t get any purchase with my feet. My neck hurt both from the weird angle and from the pane of acrylic tightening around me.
A shark swam closer.
If it bit my head, I’d be a goner for sure. I didn’t want a shark to bite my head off. I didn’t want to be this close to a shark. I hated sharks.
Panic damn near made me lose what little air I had. My lungs cried out for air.
My eyes burned in the salt water, but I had to see if that damn shark was going to come near me again.
My doppelgänger grabbed my right arm. He started a magical siphon. Energy flowed through my Tarot tattoo into his hands. I felt my power fading.
My world grew dark.
But part of that was because the light I’d pushed into the tank winked out.
The other Brett’s light grew brighter, and a fish swam right over my face. I let out a burst of air, felt my lungs giving out.
Brett pulled my magic from my blood, drew it out through my tattoo.
All I could think was that I should have grabbed one of those stupid oxygen tanks.
Well, I’d had a good run. I made it to the ripe old age of thirty-one. I’d seen a good portion of the world. I’d had a hit song. I’d slept with more women than I cared to admit, and some of them were smoking hot, and the others were at least fun. I’d sampled a wide range of ganja and I’d done magic. I might have been a disappointment to my old man, but I’d lived life my way.
