by Gary Jonas
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.
The other Brett had the stronger magic. He knew how to work it. He was well-liked, and while he was killing me, I figured he’d be a better friend to my friends than I ever was.
And he’d make my father proud.
He’d be a good little wizard.
He’d live a good little life doing what the Magic Council told him to do.
He’d be boring.
And he’d live on in my name.
My lungs let go, and the last of my breath burst from my mouth into the tank. The poor sharks were going to have to eat a dead wizard head.
But.
I didn’t want to die.
I also didn’t want to do what I was told.
My body went into convulsions as I drew water into my lungs. My legs kicked. My arms flexed. I bit my tongue hard, and blood mixed with the water.
I was a fucking wizard.
And I wanted to live.
I needed to breathe, but lungs can’t process water.
Lakesha’s image swam in front of my mind. Great, now I had to deal with hallucinations. She mouthed words at me: resembles, imitation, genuine. To me that meant fake it until you make it.
Then I realized that magic can shift reality.
I swallowed blood and water and my desire to breathe and live grew stronger. Lungs couldn’t handle the water, but gills could. So I transformed my lungs into gill passages. My neck opened with little slits. My eyes focused and I pulled water in through my mouth and forced it out through my gills. As a wizard, what I faked not only resembled reality, it imitated reality and became genuine reality.
The need to swim came over me. I focused my magic and the acrylic panes encircling the tunnel disappeared. Water crashed down, filling the entire chamber.
The other Brett freaked. He tried to pull the magic away, but the tattoo was so deep and layered that the magic was caught in there. On top of that, like Gideon said, the final bit of magic had to be given freely, and I didn’t want to give it. I wanted to take it back.
I pulled the magic back into the tattoo.
The other Brett struggled, trying to get away, but I wrapped my legs around him. He pulled free, but I grabbed hold of him. I yanked him close and hugged him.
Sharks swam around us.
He tried to scream, sending air bubbles through the churned up water.
The sharks didn’t care about us.
I held Brett tight, pulled the magic back inside me. He gulped water.
There can be only one, I thought.
And I pulled his body inside mine.
What my father had separated, I rejoined.
Give in to me, I thought.
I am you, I thought. Or did he think that. No, we thought that, but I held the reins of control.
My brain flared with strange memories.
My father telling me to study harder.
And me focused on doing just that.
But that wasn’t me. I don’t study.
But I did.
Only it was the other me.
Not me, but still me.
The other Brett’s life flashed before my eyes. Memories, laughs, books, loves, music, conversations, meals, hopes, dreams, fears, regrets, desires, experiences. It was like a series of movie trailers where they give away every plot twist so you know how it ends. Days, months, years, splashed across the movie screen in my mind, coloring in fifteen years of life in layers.
Knowledge flowed through my synapses.
I floated in the water and let my body and soul assimilate the other Brett back into myself. For the first time in as long as I could remember, I felt complete.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
In some ways, magic is cheating.
It’s too damn easy. I settled on the floor of what used to be a tunnel in the aquarium. A little intent with a hand motion here, and a focus of blood magic there, and the water pushed backward creating a vortex.
The acrylic walls reformed the way they’d been before, and the water settled against them. The fish, rays, and sharks swam around like nothing had ever happened here. If they knew, they’d never tell. Fish can keep secrets because they can’t speak English. If they could, this world would be even weirder than it already is, so that went down as a right good thing.
I choked out water through my gills and mouth. A conscious choice shifted the gills back into lungs and flesh. Picture what you want. Let the magic imitate the image. Send the magic into reality.
I drew a deep breath. The tunnel smelled like salt water. I looked at the floor. It was still wet, but that wasn’t my problem.
Light floated ahead of me.
A fish flopped on the floor.
“Sorry, little dude,” I said and willed him back into the water.
The little dude didn’t thank me, but he did swim off into the darkness.
I followed the light to the exit, and magically shut off any alarms before unlocking the door and pushing back into the night.
My father, the Matriarch, Gideon, Sabrina, and Michael all stood in the parking lot waiting.
A magic movie screen standing twenty feet high and thirty feet wide showed a reverse image of me walking out the door. The audience on the other side of the screen had been watching the entire battle. I walked through the screen, trying to walk through the image of myself, but that image was way too big so it didn’t look as cool as I hoped. The screen shimmered and disappeared.
I shook my head, sending water droplets flying every which way, then I willed myself dry, and let my hair style itself as I stood before the group.
“Nicely done, Brett,” Gideon said, shooting me a thumbs up.
“There is now only one Brett,” the Matriarch said. “Congratulations. You passed the test.”
She held out a hand and a contract appeared. She plucked a pen out of the air and held it out to me.
“Which Brett are you?” my father asked. “It was hard to tell in the churning water.”
“Such an inquiry is beneath you, Father,” I said.
He smiled. “I knew you could do it,” he said. “I’m so proud of you, son.”
“Sign here,” the Matriarch said. “And you’ll be a full-fledged wizard.”
“Fuck that shit,” I said. “I don’t have to sign anything to be a full-fledged wizard.”
The Matriarch took a step back and stared at me.
My father did a triple take. “But you have to sign.”
“I don’t have to do a damn thing. Man, I thought you were a dick to me, but you were really a dick to the other Brett. That poor son of a bitch had to study. What kind of way is that to spend your time?”
“Young man,” the Matriarch said. “If you don’t sign this, you won’t be recognized as a wizard by the Council.”
“Good,” I said. I pointed at the contract and it burst into flame in her hand.
She shook it out of existence.
I pointed at the pen and it turned into an earthworm.
She stared at it.
“Let’s feed it to the fish,” I said, and gestured toward the pyramid. The worm popped out of her hand.
“Well I never,” she said.
I stepped up to her. “You can go home now, Catherine.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“You can’t talk to her like that,” my father said.
“No,” I said. “You can’t talk to her like that. You signed the contract. You’re a wizard recognized and bound by the Council.”
Catherine smiled. “I suspect when you combined, you took on the worst qualities of both versions of yourself.” She hesitated and shrugged. “Or maybe the best.”
&nbs
p; “More like all the qualities,” I said. “But as the real Brett Masters, my destiny is my own to write, and I don’t have to be part of any silly Council to do it.”
“Indeed you don’t,” she said, impressed. “Good luck, Brett.”
“Thank you, Catherine.”
She waved a hand and disappeared.
My father stared at me. “She let you live,” he said, incredulous.
“Still proud of me, Dad?”
“No. You are an offense to the wizarding world. You’re not even a full wizard. You’ll always be half-assed.”
“Considering the power I can now command, I think I’m more of a kickass wizard.”
“That’s ridiculous,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You’re a worthless piece of excrement, and an embarrassment to this family. I wasted years of my life trying to prepare you for excellence and you threw it all away like a disgusting lazy bum.”
“That was a lot of words, Dad. Can you get that across in six words or less?”
“You’re officially cut off from the family fortune.”
“You can’t count. That’s still more than six words.”
“No more money for you, Brett,” he said.
“Much better,” I said. “And no worries. I have my own money. I’m a rock star, remember? My CD is in the top ten right now.”
“I could strip you of your magic,” he said.
I gave him a wink and a smile. “You could try.”
He glared at me.
“Go home, Dad. Tell Mom hello for me.”
“I’ll do no such thing.”
“Whatever. I’ll give her a call tomorrow.”
“No you won’t.” He opened a rift in the air and stepped through.
Sabrina stared at me. “You don’t seem like my cousin at all. Not the sophisticated Brett or the lazy Brett.”
“I’m a bit of both, but I guess we’ll find out if that’s a good thing in the coming days. We should probably line up a tour and we might want to write some more songs.”
“If I stick around, do I get to sing?”
I gave her a smile. “Damn right you do. You’re a talented singer.”
She shrugged. “And what I lack in talent, I make up for with magic.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” I looked at Michael. “I’ve been sorting through the various magical abilities I’ve gained, but I can’t think of any way to cure vampirism.”
“It’s okay, Brett. I knew the other you lied about a cure. Didn’t stop me from hoping.”
“We’ll be touring the world, though. If there is a cure out there, we’ll find it.”
He nodded.
“Why don’t you take Sabrina home?”
“I can do that. Can you do me a favor first?”
“What kind of favor?”
“With all that magic you gained, can you give me back my finger so I can flip people off?”
I laughed. “Let me see your hand.”
Michael held out his hand. I bit my cheek, pulled up some magic, and worked it. Michael’s middle finger grew back in a matter of moments.
He flexed his finger, and tested it by flipping me off. “Seems to work.”
“Indeed it does.”
“Thanks, Brett.”
I gave him a nod.
He put an arm around Sabrina. “The night is still young. Let’s go back to your place,” he said.
They got into his Charger and took off.
Gideon gave me a smile. He opened the back door to the limo. “Need a ride?” he asked.
“I do.”
“Your chariot awaits.”
But I didn’t get into the back. Instead I walked around the limo and climbed into the front passenger seat.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I thought I’d ride up front with you, if that’s cool.”
He closed the back door, opened the driver’s door and slid behind the wheel. “Cool with me.”
He started the car.
“Where to?” he asked.
“I’m curious to see if Isis will like me or hiss at me, and what kind of reception I’ll get from Lakesha.”
“I know where she lives. We can wake her up.”
I shook my head. “No, it’s late, and the cat test can wait until tomorrow. Let them sleep.”
“So, back to the house the other Brett purchased?”
“Sounds like a plan. I think the first order of business will be to get some sleep.”
“Excellent Then up at the crack of dawn as usual?”
I shook my head. “To hell with that,” I said. “I refuse to get up before the crack of noon.”
“That sounds even better,” he said, and drove me home.
THE END
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Gary Jonas grew up in a military family, so he moved a lot as a child. His original plan was to be a comic book artist, but in college things changed. He took a creative writing class for the easy A, and found that when he wrote stories, people were affected emotionally by them in ways they weren’t by his artwork. He switched from art to writing without ever looking back. Well, he might have looked back a few times, but by then it was too late. He sold his first short story to Marion Zimmer Bradley for the anthology Sword and Sorceress VII. Many short story sales followed to various magazines and anthologies including Robert Bloch’s Psychos, It Came from the Drive-In, 100 Vicious Little Vampire Stories, Prom Night, and many more.
His first novel, One-Way Ticket to Midnight, was published in 2002, It made the preliminary ballot for the Bram Stoker Award. While the novel was well-reviewed, it didn’t sell diddly squat, so Gary turned to writing screenplays for a few years. A couple of Hollywood options led to nothing, and the notes from producers, while sometimes spot-on, were also sometimes way out in left field (if they were even in the ballpark). Gary returned to novel writing with Modern Sorcery. You can visit him online at www.garyjonasbooks.com, and sign up for his mailing list on his rarely updated blog. Or you can follow him on BookBub for notices of new releases. Whatever works for you.
Books by Gary Jonas
The Half-Assed Wizard series:
The Half-Assed Wizard
The Big-Ass Witch
The Dumbass Demon
The Lame-Assed Doppelganger
The Jonathan Shade series:
Modern Sorcery
Acheron Highway
Dragon Gate
Anubis Nights
Sunset Specters
Wizard’s Nocturne
Razor Dreams
Vertigo Effect
Club Eternity
Timeless Gods
Spirited Christmas (holiday novelette)
The Kelly Chan series:
Vampire Midnight
Werewolf Samurai
Subhuman Resources (w/Rebecca Hodgkins)
Zombie Rising (w/Rebecca Hodgkins)
Vendetta Blues (w/Rebecca Hodgkins) - coming soon
The UFO Conspiracy Files series:
Guardians of the Sky
Stand-alone novels:
One-Way Ticket to Midnight
Pirates of the Outrigger Rift (w/Bill D. Allen)
Collection:
Quick Shots
Novella:
Night Marshal: A Tale of the Undead West
also available in Night Marshal Box Set (the first three Night Marshal tales in one bundle--includes Night Marshal by Gary Jonas, High Plains Moon by Glenn R. Sixbury, and This Dance, These Bones by Rebecca Hodgkins). The set kicks ass.
Thanks for reading! All authors need reviews, so if you enjoyed the book, please write a review to help guide other customers. Read on!
Cover design by Robin Ludwig at www.gobookcoverdesign.
com
Edited by Rebecca Hodgkins
