by Liz Marsham
It looked like a fully functioning, cluttered, busy workshop. In other words, it looked like Em’s dream home.
“Oh, Em is gonna kill me,” Zarya breathed.
“You’re here!” Amileth called, coming out from behind some kind of contraption Zarya couldn’t identify—it looked like the top half of a metal titan? Maybe?—and wiping her hands on a rag. Her jacket was off, her sleeves were rolled up, and Zarya noticed absently that while her fingers were covered in grease, the rest of her white outfit was immaculate.
“Yeah, but what is here? I thought this was where you lived, but…” Zarya gestured helplessly around her.
“It is!” said Amileth brightly. Looking much more casual and at ease than she had been onstage, she pointed to the pegboard corner. “At least while I’m touring. My bedroll is over there. Living doesn’t take up much space. Not like working. I have to work all the time to make sure my act is perfect. There’s no room for error.” She heaved a sigh, shaking her head. “But still, I would have botched a very important performance, not to mention hurt someone, if it weren’t for you. And that’s why I asked you here.”
“To thank me?”
“Well, yes. But also, tonight made me realize that my act is missing something crucial. My illusions are getting more complicated, and it’s a lot for one person to keep track of. I need someone to watch my back. Someone smart, someone who can think on her feet better than I can. I need a partner.”
Amileth stepped forward and took Zarya’s hands. “I need you, Zarya.”
5
In Which There Is a Shocking Development
Zarya’s mind whirled. Of course she wasn’t going to leave everything behind—her friends, her newly found family, her duty as a Mysticon, her whole life—to become an illusionist. But something about the offer made her wistful. Maybe it was that, not so long ago, she would have jumped at a chance like this.
“Hey,” Amileth said, lightly shaking Zarya’s hands and peering teasingly into her eyes. “Anyone in there?”
Zarya blinked and realized she’d been staring off into space. “Sorry, Amileth—” she began.
“Oh, please, call me Ami!”
“Ami, okay. It’s just … it’s mind-blowing that you would even ask me,” Zarya stammered. “A few years ago, my friend Piper and I were running games on Undercity street corners for spare change. Just little sleight-of-hand tricks. I never could have pulled off anything like you do, growing flowers and making Gawayne’s pants explode and stuff.” She chuckled at the memory. “How did you do that, by the way, can I ask? It’s killing me.”
Ami dropped Zarya’s hands and crossed her arms. “Ahhh, you want to know all my secrets right away, just like that? So you’re taking the job?”
“Oh!” Zarya faltered, embarrassed. “No, you’re right, sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. Part of me wishes I could go with you, but—”
Ami burst out laughing. “I was teasing you, Princess. I’m happy to tell you the truth, which is the same thing I tell everyone: The footlights work.”
“Wait. The footlights … you invented anti-magic lights, for real?” Zarya couldn’t believe it. “But … but…”
“Why don’t I make them into a weapon?” Ami asked. “Why aren’t I worried that someone else will?”
“Yeah!” Zarya sputtered.
“The second question is easy: You see yourself that no one believes me. They all assume I’m lying, because the truth is too simple. I do this”—she gestured around her—“in the hardest way possible: with practical effects, a ton of practice, and zero magic.” She walked over to a table and picked up a long, thin tube with a small nozzle at one end and a thumb-size black box at the other. “As for the first question, why would I make weapons? Weapons don’t interest me. Do you know why I do what I do?”
“Sure.” Zarya shrugged. “I was talking with Arkayna about this. It’s a game.”
“A game!” Amileth seemed genuinely surprised. She slipped the black box into her back pocket and looped the tube around her neck, letting the nozzle drape down one arm. “No, it’s not a game. Though it may have started out that way. I was born into a very magical family, you see, but I have no magic in me at all.”
She crossed to the pegboard, pulled her jacket off a hook, and put it on, threading the tube through one arm so the nozzle rested invisibly against her wrist. “The pressure was tremendous. ‘Make your bed without using your hands.’ ‘Light a fire without using a match.’ Week after week, year after year, I could feel their disappointment in me. Until I decided to find my own way. One day, they told me to light a fire, and”—she held up her hand with a flourish, and a small gout of flame poofed from the nozzle and hovered above her palm—“I did.”
“See?” said Zarya. “You outsmarted them. It was a game, and you won. Nice job!”
“Thank you, but I’m not finished. You see, my new ‘magic’ stopped my family from being disappointed, but it didn’t make them proud. I was only doing what was expected of me. And I realized: I want to do unexpected things. I want people to walk away from my shows full of wonder. I don’t want to play a game; I want to create a story, a fantasy so interesting that even though they know it’s false, they’ll choose, if only for a minute, to believe it anyway. And they’ll walk away remembering that there’s more to life than they think.” With that, Ami shrugged off her jacket to reveal that instead of the tube, a snake now hung around her neck.
Zarya jumped and bit back a yelp.
“See?” Ami reached up and pulled the snake into her hands. “You know it can’t be real, and yet…”
Zarya leaned forward as Ami flipped the “snake” over and revealed a metal seam in its belly. Ami pried the seam open with her fingernails, revealing the tube hidden inside. The “snake” was a spring-loaded casing, painted to look like a snake and probably hidden inside Ami’s jacket, ready to snap into place at her command.
“I will admit, though,” Ami continued, “I do enjoy when someone like King Gawayne volunteers. People with easy lives always assume they know how everything works. I think it’s healthy for them to remember otherwise.” She seemed to suddenly realize whom she was talking to, and met Zarya’s eyes sheepishly. “I hope you don’t mind me saying so. Princess.”
Now it was Zarya’s turn to laugh. “Are you kidding? I want you to move here and do that to him twice a week!”
Ami chuckled along with her. “I didn’t know you grew up in the Undercity,” she said, “but it doesn’t surprise me. You don’t act like any princess I’ve ever met. And that’s a compliment.” She put a hand on Zarya’s shoulder, smiling ruefully. “Please don’t change. People who have money, or magic, or both—they don’t know what it’s like for those of us who don’t. You keep reminding them, okay?”
Zarya stiffened, suddenly uncomfortable. After all, not only did she have money now, she had magic—Mysticon magic. We have even less in common than she thinks, Zarya thought. Out loud she said, “Aw, Arkayna’s not so bad. And she’s been through some rough stuff, too.”
“Yes, of course.” Ami dropped her hand and looked chastened. “Her—your—poor parents. Is it true they were turned to bone? I’ve been away for months, and the news is sometimes exaggerated.”
“It’s true,” Zarya said sadly.
Ami took a deep breath. “Well,” she said. “I have brought down the mood. Allow me to make it up to you.” She motioned to the workbenches around her. “How about a tour?”
“Even if I can’t run away with you?” Zarya asked.
“Even if. What would you like to see first?”
Zarya pointed at the metal titan. “That. For sure.”
Over the next hour, Ami walked Zarya around the workshop, showing her the various mechanisms she used to produce magical effects. The titan was a complicated automaton that, if Ami could get it working, would appear to speak and identify items audience members held up. In reality, Ami would be remote controlling it through valves that ran under the stage.
Zarya had expected to be a little disappointed once she knew the secrets—usually tricks seemed so obvious after someone explained them to you—but instead she found herself even more impressed with Ami. The elf girl was so clever and so good with her hands, and she seemed to know exactly where her audience would be looking at any moment.
“Another of my secrets, of course, is also hiding in plain sight.” Ami drew the device she had used onstage out of her pocket. The top had two large switches on it, labeled CURTAIN and LIGHTS. “The audience sees me use this to lower the curtain and control the lights, and they assume that’s all it does. No one thinks that maybe it could do more. Maybe it could, in fact, control the whole show.” She turned the device over to reveal dozens of tiny buttons on its underside, each smaller than a fingernail. The buttons were unlabeled and painted to look exactly like the rest of the device’s housing. Even from a foot away, Zarya had trouble making them out.
“I knew I saw you reach into your pocket!” Zarya crowed.
“Yes, you have very clever eyes,” responded Ami. “Actually, before you go, I could use those eyes.” She pointed at the curtained area, where the metal table waited. “Would you mind giving me some advice on this?”
Zarya felt a little guilty about how long she had already been away, but she was so curious. “I can spare one more minute,” she said.
“Good.” Ami pointed to a nearby workbench. “Leave your phone there, please, and any other magic items you have on you. I’d like you to see this with full lighting, so you can tell me if it works.”
Obligingly, Zarya dropped her phone onto the bench. Then together, they stepped into the lights.
“I was going to perform this tonight,” Ami confessed, “but I don’t think it’s ready.” She pointed to the table. “A volunteer lies there, and I tell them that with the power of their mind they can make the whole tabletop float with them on it. I have them concentrate very hard, you see, with their eyes shut tight.” She pushed a button on the bottom of her device, and a metal pipe with a large C-shaped curve at the end rose from the floor behind the table. “I stand here,” she said, stepping between the pipe and the table, “which blocks the audience from seeing what’s happening. So the visuals are fine. But I worry that the volunteer will feel…” She pointed, and they watched as the tube rotated so that the C-curve wrapped around Ami’s waist and attached itself to the table, making the metal surface judder slightly. “… that. The pipe needs to attach to the table so it can lift it, but that shaking is going to give me away.”
Zarya whistled. The trick was beautifully designed. The pipe was completely hidden by the table as it came out from behind Ami and grabbed on, and from there it was a simple matter of raising and lowering it—and the tabletop and volunteer along with it. They would really look like they were levitating.
Zarya hopped up on the tabletop. “Well,” she said. “Let’s try it!”
“Excellent.” Ami grinned and pushed another button, but nothing happened. She frowned and pushed the same button again. Still nothing. “That should have disengaged the pipe,” she muttered. “I’m still wiring this thing up.” She passed the device to Zarya. “Hold this for a minute? I’m going to grab a screwdriver.”
As Ami headed toward the pegboard, Zarya turned the device idly in her hands. Then she froze and looked closer. The malfunctioning button was slightly out of alignment with the others, she realized.
“Hey, I think I found the problem,” Zarya called. “What if I just—”
She pushed the button back into alignment. With a sharp screech, the pipe separated from the table, throwing up sparks. One of the sparks hit the device in Zarya’s hand, causing a short circuit that traveled through Zarya and down to the metal table she was sitting on.
But Zarya had no time to think about what was happening in detail. She was too busy being electrocuted.
6
In Which Most of Zarya Goes Home
“Zarya!” Ami shouted. She bounded across the workshop in four long strides, grabbing a wooden pole as she ran, and batted the device out of Zarya’s hand. With the circuit broken, the electricity was dissipated, and Zarya slumped to the table. Ami shot out an arm, grabbing Zarya’s head before it could hit the metal and laying her down gently.
“Are you all right? Please say you’re all right!” Ami cried.
“Whoa, yeah, I’m okay,” mumbled Zarya, pushing herself up to a sitting position. She took a few deep breaths and shook herself a bit. “Yeah. I’m fine. Takes more than that to rattle my cage.”
“I can’t believe that happened; I am so, so sorry.” The elf girl wrung her hands, flustered and near tears.
Zarya was immediately self-conscious. The last thing she wanted was to be cried over. “Oh, hey, don’t worry about it,” she assured her. “It was an accident!”
Ami shook her head. “It never should have happened. I’m going to check all the wiring as soon as I get home.” Then she brightened. “Speaking of which, you should come and visit me! This was my last show for a few months, so I’m heading to my house right from here. My real house. I live in the exact center of the Weaving Woods, and you’re welcome anytime.”
She raised a playful eyebrow and deepened her voice dramatically. Now she sounded the way she did onstage. “And I must warn you, Princess. The way is heavily booby-trapped to turn aside those who would uncover my wondrous secrets!”
She laughed, and her tone became light again. “But I know that with your skills, you’ll have no trouble finding me.”
Zarya grinned hugely. She knew a challenge when she heard one. “You’re on, Ami. See you soon.” She jumped off the table, grabbed her phone, and headed for the door.
* * *
Back at the Stronghold, Arkayna, Em, and Piper listened closely, with freshly painted faces, to Zarya’s story. Choko listened, too, as well as he could in between bites from his huge pile of snacks. Em kept stopping Zarya to ask for more details, and Zarya was happy to gush about how Ami pulled off each illusion. But when Zarya got to the part where Amileth was demonstrating the table levitation, she noticed that Piper was drooping a bit.
“What’s up, Pipes?” Zarya asked. “I’m sorry I missed the face paint. But look at it this way: We’re going on patrol in a minute, and the paint would have come off then anyway. Right?”
“It’s not that,” Piper grumbled. “I mean, it is that. I really wanted to see you with a big comet painted on your forehead. But also … ugh.” The little elf threw up her hands. “I’m happy that you like her! For realsies! But you and I do tricks together; that’s our thing. Can’t you have a different thing with her?”
“Aw, Pipes,” Zarya said. “Don’t worry. That will always be our thing! I didn’t even end up helping her at all—I just got myself shocked!”
“You what?” demanded Arkayna.
Piper put her hands to her face and mimed being surprised. “You mean ‘shocked’ like ‘Eeeee!’ or ‘shocked’ like…” She jerked her body around spasmodically.
“The second one,” said Zarya. “Although kinda both?”
Arkayna strode to Zarya’s side and looked her over closely. “Were you hurt? What did she do to you?”
“Easy there, sis, I’m okay.” Zarya held out her hands in a placating gesture, and Choko took the opportunity to leap into her arms and crawl up to her shoulder, his tail wrapping around her neck possessively. “And she didn’t do anything. It was an accident.” She patted Choko fondly. “I’m fine, buddy.”
Choko sniffed her hand, shrugged, and j
umped back down to his pile of snacks.
“See?” Zarya said. “Choko thinks I’m fine.”
“Look, I know you want this girl to be wonderful, and I know you two have a ton in common,” said Arkayna. “But everything in that truck is her responsibility, so it’s her fault you got hurt! Also,” she continued, raising a finger, “if you had let us come with you, this probably wouldn’t have happened.”
Zarya took a deep breath. She knew Arkayna didn’t mean to be bossy. Her sister was just concerned, and maybe a little jealous. So Zarya held out her hand, and Arkayna took it. “I am totally okay,” Zarya said. “Really.”
Arkayna finally relaxed. “All right,” she said. “I believe you.” She straightened her shoulders. “Girls, it’s time for patrol, and you know what that means. It’s magic hour!”
Raising her arms, Arkayna summoned her Mysticon magic. A wave of green energy transformed her clothes into the white, green, and gold outfit of the Mysticon Dragon Mage. A long gold staff topped with a glowing orb appeared in her hand, and a green mask covered her eyes.
“Let’s go!” Em held her hands out in front of her, calling upon her powers as the Mysticon Knight. A shining pink sword appeared in her grasp, and a ripple of pink energy washed over her, leaving her dressed and masked in pinks and purples.
“Woo-hoo!” Piper clapped and capered as orange magic swept from her head to her toes. Newly dressed in her orange, teal, and white Mysticon Striker outfit, she summoned her sparkling golden hoops and began juggling them. Closing her eyes behind her teal mask, she shouted, “And for our next trick, a blind back somersault toss-a-riffic target special!” She turned a neat backflip, eyes still closed, and threw her three hoops up in the air. “There’s your target, Ranger!”
“You got it, Striker!” Zarya opened her hand to summon her magical bow, already eyeing the trajectory she’d need to get an arrow through all three hoops.
