by Stuart Jaffe
Chapter 24
They left the factory compound with Jarik and Callib leading the way while five magicians brought up the rear. They moved at a slow, somber pace as if in a funeral procession. Indeed, Tumus and Cole both cycled through fear of the magicians and grief over the loss of Skvalan.
Malja's heart hammered against her chest, but not for the same reasons — she dealt with fear through force and she knew death too well to grieve. But her fathers were a different matter. She tried to quell the emotional tornado tearing through her, but each time Jarik looked over his shoulder at her, the storm grew stronger. Callib, thankfully, never looked back.
She caught a glimpse of Fawbry and a different sensation trembled along her skin. Battle left varied scars on a person's mind. Fawbry displayed an odd serenity. She had seen that look before — a man shaken enough by his experiences that he became so determined, so confident, all logical caution was abandoned. It was the look of a warrior believing in a righteous quest. Such things could be a great advantage, but could be equally dangerous and unpredictable. And such things tended to be temporary. One other explanation existed, and Malja hoped this to be true — that Fawbry was in shock.
The block they proceeded up barely resembled a city. Only a few buildings still stood — skeletons of brick, metal, and jagged glass. The rest littered the streets in uneven piles. The blocks ahead had become a trash dump.
Callib raised his left hand, glanced at the sawtooth tattoo there, and with a casual flick of the wrist, created four balls of light. The lights each took a corner surrounding the group and followed them as they moved through the dark, empty streets. Tumus and Fawbry gasped — neither had ever seen magic executed with such ease.
Malja, however, had seen plenty of it. She would not let Callib's little display intimidate her. They are the bastard magicians, and they deserve all my rage.
Only thoughts of Tommy kept Malja from attacking. Callib said they had Tommy, and Malja forced herself to wait until she saw the boy. Once she knew Tommy was alive and safe, she would let this tornado within her loose.
A grave smile crossed Malja's lips. Her thoughts were bold and full of pride. She hoped she could live up to them.
Ahead, the city seemed to disappear. For just a second, Malja's step hesitated.
Cole whispered, "It's okay."
The street ended without warning — just a sheer drop as if the ground had been gouged out by an angry witch. Malja could not make out the other end. Darkness and fog filled the chasm. Out of the darkness emerged what passed for a bridge — a haphazard framework of rubble slammed together by a drunk.
Jarik and Callib led the group onto the bridge. Its rough surface creaked under their weight. Half-way across, they stopped. Jarik faced the empty darkness. He raised his right arm and cocked his head so he could focus on the tattoo wrapping around his bicep.
Callib said, "This is where everything ended and everything began. This is the true location where the Devastation erupted. Others have claimed their paltry plots of land as the true location, but even Barris Mont's Dead Lake is not big enough."
"That's blasphemy," Tumus said.
"Not at all. The Devastation reshaped our entire world. It culled the weak and created opportunities for the strong. Magic of that magnitude would leave behind a grand mark. This crater is that mark."
"The Chi-Chun do not recognize—"
"I don't care what your little cult thinks. Here is where the Devastation began. A massive explosion of magic and fire that leveled the world. It blasted in all directions, even through the ground, and no doubt burst out in many places. Even your Dead Lake."
Jarik's body grew taut as if straining under a great weight. Callib turned his attention to the side of the bridge. With a brotherly smile, he patted Jarik's shoulders.
Malja stepped closer and peered over the edge. Under Callib's artificial lights, all she saw was a milky sea of fog.
Fawbry came up to her side. "Not very impressive."
But shadows formed beneath the waves. They grew larger, darker, thicker.
First, a tower broke the surface. This connected to the blocky architecture of a building out of Barris Mont's memory. It continued to rise, growing wider and gaining several smaller buildings at its sides.
Malja remembered the smaller, earthier house they had raised her in. More than anything else, seeing barbed wire surround the roofs and iron bars block the windows convinced Malja of the threats Jarik and Callib feared. They had built a fortress to live in.
The building continued to rise causing Fawbry to audibly gasp. He leaned back, gawking at the building's height. The bottom level finally came to rest flush with the bridge. The lesser magicians wasted no time getting through the entrance's massive double doors. Several looked back at Jarik and Callib like dogs eager for permission. Others rushed ahead for sanctuary.
Jarik exhaled and let his shoulders slump. Malja expected the entire building to plummet back into the chasm with the magicians screaming all the way down, but it held steady. Apparently, moving the building required much stronger magic than parking it.
Callib kissed the top of Jarik's head. "It still amazes me when you pull off that spell."
"It's getting easier. A few more times and it won't take half what it takes out of me now."
"With Malja here now, my dear brother, we won't need this place. We'll have castles all over the world."
As they stepped inside the building, a disturbing thought flashed through Malja's head — we might not get out again. She clenched her fists and sneered. She should be thinking like the warrior she was — not some prissy weakling worried about breaking a bone or losing a limb.
The foyer of this floating city block could have had no other purpose than to intimidate. Huge columns rose upward to meet the ceiling seven stories away. The walls were uneven like a cavern yet they had a geometric quality as well — long, flat rectangles like crystal sticks cut at irregular heights.
Two mammoth-sized statues made up the far wall. One of Jarik, one of Callib — each sitting upright as both the guard and the ruler, each scowling as they looked upon all who entered. Between these statutes was a normal-sized door. Guarding the door stood one maxdin — eight feet tall, coarse hair, claws and teeth.
The softest sounds echoed and amplified and mutated in the open space, surrounding visitors with strange, deep tones that chilled the skin. Malja had seen many extravagant rulers build many extravagant homes, but this surpassed any of her experiences. And while this foyer succeeded in composing awe and a sense of power, Malja wondered if this boasting through architecture undercut their strength as well. The most fearsome warriors she had ever fought almost always downplayed their appearance — choosing to dress like a commoner rather than in something that showed off muscles or weapons or power.
Whatever the case, Malja had had enough. Despite the turmoil spinning her stomach and the weariness aching her bones, she found it easy to pour herself into saving Tommy. Jarik and Callib, her fathers and enemies, lost importance to her. The portal frame that could open up other worlds but Cole feared would bring about another Devastation meant nothing. Tommy was the sole thought that stood in Malja's brain unmarred by conflicting ideas.
"Where's Tommy? You said you had him, bring him to us."
Jarik said, "She is plucky."
"You should know the only reason I haven't cut you both down is because of Tommy."
Callib raised his top lip as if smelling something vile. "Be careful how you estimate yourself," he said, opening both hands towards her. "You are no more than a rat."
Malja's hand reached back for Viper even as her nerves jangled across her body. Jarik pushed between them. "Callib, control yourself," he said.
"Control myself? If you had shown more control years ago, we wouldn't have to deal with her now." Callib broke away, throwing an angry charge of electricity into the air. "No, Callib, I promise, she's dead. But that wasn't true, was it? Cowardice got the better of you. You t
ook one look in those little girl eyes and just had to leave her instead of doing what you should have done. And now look at this mess."
"Just because I didn't handle it the way you wanted doesn't mean I didn't handle it."
"Leaving her for dead is very different than what I ordered you to do."
"Your mistake is thinking you can order me to do anything at all. We either work together or you can—"
Callib flapped his arms as he headed through the door by the statues. The maxdin straightened when the magician neared. "Enough already. Calm down. I'll get the boy prepared. When I come back, try to be more civil."
Jarik closed his eyes and took a cleansing breath before facing Malja. "Wait here," he said.
As he walked out of the foyer, he gestured to the maxdin and the creature followed him, ducking low to get through the door. Cole crossed her arms and snickered. "My, my. Those two boys are gonna kill each other."
"They've been together longer than I've been alive," Malja said.
"Family can have more conflict than anybody. Let's hope we can use that to our advantage."
Malja nodded and held back the urge to cheer on Cole. The woman had found her courage once more, and Malja did not want to make her uncomfortable by pointing it out. To avoid the possibility, Malja walked back toward the entrance.
She could not see the bridge. She pressed her hands up to the glass — a strange experience, unbroken glass — and squinted. Though she never felt so much as a slim vibration, the fortress had left the bridge and now floated in the dark fog. The house had become an island.
With an echoing clang, the door between the statues opened. Nobody came out.
"Guess we're expected to go," Malja said.
"Oh, how dramatic," Cole said, melting into her superiority like an old lover. "For all their supposed greatness, these two have a lot to learn about presentation."
Despite her bravado, Malja caught Cole's eyes darting around like a bird looking for an escape. Well, she thought, that's okay. A good fighter always feels nervous before a big battle. Tumus looked worried, too. For a Chi-Chun of Korstra, however, Malja expected less fear and more of that overconfident arrogance she had come to enjoy. Fawbry merely stepped toward the door. Not a word spoken. Even Tufts noticed — the griffle chose to walk several paces behind.
They proceeded down a corridor marked with numerous closed doors on either side. The walls were stone and arched overhead. Narrow alcoves filled in the spaces between doors — focus booths, each filled with a hard-working magician.
At the far end, an open door led to one of Jarik and Callib's workrooms. Large enough to fit a mid-sized boat, the room bore the magicians' conflicting tastes quite well. The ten-foot windows along one wall belonged to Jarik. They had red drapes that touched the floor and little animal wood carvings around the frames. Callib had been in charge of the workspace. In one corner, a wide desk covered with papers and books; the rest of the space left open for experiments — practical and utilitarian.
Malja took it all in with the expectation of battle. She noted exits, defensive positions, and areas to avoid. To her left was Cole's portal frame. They had rigged it upright with large cables connected to it. The cables led to the second large object — a chamber composed of mirrored walls and hanging metal rods. More cables snaked along the floor from the chamber to the third object — a dark cylinder about six feet high and three feet across.
Both Jarik and Callib stepped forward. Their bodies glistened with sweet-smelling oil that reminded Malja of Gregor's cooking — particularly when he fried a myrit. Even their bald heads had been covered. The oil brought to life the vibrant colors of their tattoos.
Warnings spiked in Malja's head. "Where's Tommy?"
Callib turned away but not before Malja caught the sinister amusement on his face. He stepped into the mirror chamber, reflections of him on every wall, and adjusted several of its components. Jarik gestured toward the portal frame.
"Patience," he said. "We wish to show you what this is all about. We are not monsters. Sure, we've made mistakes. We are far from perfect. But, where others bemoan their failings and wallow in self-pity, we improve ourselves."
With surefire steps, Callib walked up beside Jarik. "Go get started," he said. "I'll handle this."
Jarik hesitated, the desire to explain pushing against the need to perform. With a muted nod, he acquiesced. Callib gave a little shake of the head and snickered as Jarik entered the mirror chamber.
They're like nasty children, Malja thought.
Jarik took a wide stance in the center of the chamber and focused on the mirror to his side. From here, he could see the tattoos on his back — the oil making even the smallest ones clear. As he worked on the spell emblazoned on his right shoulder blade, doubt trickled along Malja's skin. They might be nasty children, but she now saw that they were smart, nasty children.
Callib walked up to Cole and offered a ridiculous bow. "You have my sincerest admiration."
Cole frowned. "You have my portal frame, and I'd appreciate it kindly if you return it."
"I see the time away from us has not changed your humor. Well, I'm sorry, Ms. Watts, but we cannot return the frame. In fact, it is our deepest wish that you help us build an even better one — one that will help us connect with other worlds in more substantive ways."
"You can wish all you want but I—"
"We have glimpsed into hundreds of worlds. Hundreds. Each containing knowledge and riches that would better our world over and over forever." He raised his index finger to stop Cole from speaking again. "I understand why you're angry. But I think after you see what we can accomplish today with your frame, I truly believe you will have a new desire to help us."
With her head high, Malja said, "You get nothing from us until we see Tommy."
"You stupid brat," Callib said, spit flying from his twisted lips. "You never could wait. Never could just let us present things to you the way we had chosen. You want Tommy? You have to see him? Very well. But I warn you, this'll only make it harder on you."
Callib looked at a tattoo on his hand. He closed his eyes and whispered words Malja did not know. With a childish snarl, he jerked his head toward the dark cylinder that connected with the mirror chamber. When he opened his eyes, the cylinder became translucent. Inside was Tommy.
He stood in a knee-high, thick, green sludge. Green water filled the rest of the cylinder like an algae soup. Tommy's body swayed in an unseen current, his eyes closed.
"Don't worry," Callib said. "The boy is fine."
"Fine?" Fawbry said. "He can't breathe in there."
Callib pulled back, uncertainty crossing his brow. His eyes widened, and a devious grin formed at the corner of his lips. He eased back with a predatory grace. He looked at Tumus. "You didn't tell them."
Malja's eyes shot to Tumus. The Chi-Chun woman's face betrayed her. Malja said, "You have something to say?"
Tumus looked from Callib to Malja — neither appeared safe. "W-When Barris Mont connected with Tommy, he ..."
"He what?" Malja said, her skin and muscles burning with the desire to attack, to shut out whatever might come.
"He ..."
Callib cleared his throat in a loud, unnecessary manner. "Perhaps I can help. You see, when Barris realized that Jarik and I were approaching, he knew our purpose. We had come to take his power. So, he tried to trick us."
"No," Tumus said. "It wasn't like that. Barris saw a great power in Tommy, but the boy had been so abused in the past, he was too mentally damaged to unlock it safely himself. Barris simply wanted to help the boy."
An icy hand took hold of Malja's heart. "What happened? What did that bloated bastard do?"
Tumus opened her mouth but only shook her head. Callib said, "He transferred himself into the boy. That's why you're precious Tommy is still alive. Barris can breathe underwater, so now Tommy can too."
Malja pressed a hand against her chest as if her heart had been ripped out and she wanted to staunch
the wound. Stay focused, she thought. Mourn later. Rubbing her eyes, she opened her mouth but no words followed.
Fawbry stepped closer to the tank harboring Tommy. "Barris took over Tommy's body?"
"No," Callib said. "They share it. And now that we have the boy connected to our chamber, we share it."
"You're using him?" Malja said, her voice cracking. "For what?"
Callib opened his arms and nodded to the portal frame. "For you." He walked into the mirror chamber and positioned himself similar to Jarik.
While Jarik appeared to be in a deep trance, Callib acted more like an impatient child. He moved about the chamber, using different mirrors for different spells. He focused on his knees, his spine, and his feet. Spell after spell blended with Jarik's singular, powerful conjuring.
The cylinder containing Tommy brightened and pulsed waves of heat. Cole pointed behind them. Malja saw more bright light as the occupied focus booths pushed their magic into the room.
"This is a lot of energy production," Cole said. "It feels like a bomb. Be careful."
"I'll do that," Malja said, her anger refocusing her even as it took on a tinge of Cole's caution.
A cracking sound like wood splintering under heavy pressure ignited the air. The cables wriggled, jolting with power. With a sizzle, an airy pop, and the smell of burnt leaves, the portal frame opened.
Jarik and Callib exited the chamber, triumphant and sweating. They both gestured for Malja to look into the frame. She stepped forward a little — enough to peer into the frame without being too close.
She saw a room made of dark woods. Shelves crammed with books covered most of the walls. A window provided Malja with a glimpse of wide, hilly grass and a vehicle passing in the sky across a huge, ringed moon. In the room, she saw the desk with blue-green lights floating above it. A woman sat behind the desk, touching the lights as if they had substance.
Jarik stepped closer to Malja. "This is your world. You came from here. You were born on those soils. And that woman is your mother."
