Good Ogre

by Platte F. Clark

  “Uh . . . ,” Max said, loosening his shirt from around his neck—suddenly it felt awfully tight.

  “Anyway, we really don’t have time for idle chitchat,” Melvin said. “We just stopped by on our way to the park. We’re going to be fighting a troll war party.”

  “Trolls?” Sarah asked.

  “Part of the fun of LARPing is dressing up like monsters,” Megan answered. “Today a band of humans and elves will fight a bridge battle against a gang of trolls.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to come, Max?” Sydney asked. “You could even be a troll if you wanted.”

  Max could feel everyone’s eyes on him. “Thanks, Sydney. Maybe another time.”

  “No problem,” she said, her enthusiasm unfazed.

  Dwight reappeared with a large leather-bound book in his hand.

  “Hey, Dwight,” Melvin called out. “We just stopped by to check on those boots I ordered.”

  “Fairy boots?” Dirk asked. “With bells and stuff?”

  Melvin frowned. “Elf boots.”

  “Haven’t seen ’em yet,” Dwight replied, dropping the book on the counter. “Probably be here Monday if you want to try then.”

  “Sounds good,” Melvin said, leading the two sisters away. He paused at the door and turned to Sarah. “You have an invitation to play with us anytime, Sarah. I would put you under my personal protection.”

  “Oh, okay. Thanks,” Sarah replied, not sure how to respond to the offer.

  Dwight gave them a wave as they left.

  “I don’t remember you ever waving at us like that,” Dirk said.

  Dwight climbed on his stool. “Yeah, well, they actually spend money once in a while.” He began flipping through the pages and the group leaned in to get a closer look—the book was written in a language they didn’t recognize.

  “That’s not from the Techrus, is it?” Max asked.

  Dwight kept turning pages. “Nope. It’s the Dwarven Book of Lore.”

  “Sweet,” Dirk exclaimed. “I mean, probably.”

  “Okay, let’s see here,” Dwight said, turning a final page and moving down the text with his finger. “There’s the Sandals of Stink—that’s a cursed item—the serpent’s escutcheon—been there and done that—the Seer Stone of Olfaction—you see and smell your future—oh, here we go . . . the Shadric Portal. Says here it was constructed by Maximilian Sporazo after he became the regent of the Tower. He used it as a way of slipping out of boring meetings. Later, he discovered that it could also be used to open a doorway between realms by way of the umbraverse.”

  “Umbraverse?” Sarah asked.

  “Yeah,” Dwight answered, “there’s the universe and the umbraverse. The umbraverse is a place where wizards and other fools go because the rules that should apply to things don’t apply there. Obsikar drew on it to send us back in time.”

  “Using something like that seems risky,” Sarah continued.

  Dwight returned to the book. “Yep. And it goes on to say that Sporazo used Shadric magic to make it work—definitely a mixed bag with that—and decided to wrap it in two protective spells to keep it from falling into the wrong hands.”

  “Like a curse?” Dirk asked.

  “Kind of. The first spell makes it so that only one of his blood can remove it from the Tower.” Dwight looked up at Max. “How do you suppose this kid ended up with it?”

  Max shrugged. “Don’t ask me, I never touched any portals.”

  “Maybe you did accidentally?” Dirk suggested. “You didn’t use any Portal Potties, did you?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “If Max didn’t remove the portal from the Tower, who did?” Sarah asked.

  Dwight frowned. “Good question.” He turned his attention back to the book. “The other protective spell is kind of interesting . . . it says only one who is mostly good can handle it.”

  “So that means Wayne’s a good guy,” Dirk announced.

  “Just because you have good intentions doesn’t mean things can’t go wrong,” Sarah noted.

  “Yeah, just take a look at the bard character class,” Dirk agreed. “Sure, they were supposed to be all versed in lore and even have special arcane powers and stuff, but having to sing songs while the rest of the party fights is lame, no matter how you slice it.”

  “You said only one who is good could handle it,” Max said, wanting to get the conversation back on track. “Does that mean use it too?”

  Dwight glowered. “I don’t know. Portals are like doors—they’re often much harder to open than to close. My guess is it takes a good deal of magic to get something like the Shadric Portal open.”

  “And not just that,” Dirk added, “but from a wizard who was good—otherwise they couldn’t even touch it.”

  “It does seem like an effective series of locks,” Sarah said.

  Max thought it over. “So what does it all mean?”

  Dwight closed the book. “It means we need to be very careful.”

  “I’m not sure this is a group that knows how to be careful,” a familiar voice called out. Puff the fluff dragon entered the room with a yawn. He’d taken a job as “the world’s ugliest watchdog” and had moved in with Dwight some months ago. Max was actually glad to see the dwarf and former dragon getting along, since the two races had a long history of enmity between them.

  “Hey, Puff!” Sarah exclaimed. “You look good.”

  “Thanks,” Puff said. Dwight had hired a dog groomer to weave all of his fluff into dreadlocks, passing him off as a puli. Max had had to look the breed up on the Internet, and he was surprised at how well Puff managed to pull it off.

  “Just having the Shadric Portal around you is dangerous,” Puff continued. As a former dragon he was well versed in things of a magical nature. “It’s honed to your blood. It’s possible the Maelshadow is using it to find you.”

  “I think you should tell Wayne to return to the Magrus,” Sarah said. “It’s not like we’re going to consider his offer to go back.” Max wasn’t so sure about that, however. He’d been spending a lot of time thinking about the Magrus lately.

  Puff nodded. “You should find this Wayne and convince him to go home—the sooner the better.”

  “He mentioned something about football,” Max said. “I bet he’s meeting with the coach or practicing with the team or something.”

  “Sarah’s right,” Dwight said. “Decline his offer and have him return to the Magrus. We all know how your blood gets us into trouble, and I don’t like the thought of a Shadric artifact so close.”

  “If you do that, we can’t go back,” Dirk protested. “I’ll never get to see my statue.”

  Sarah lifted a brow, very curious about the statue Dirk was imagining.

  “There’s always the long way back,” Dwight replied. “If there’s a need to ever return to the Magrus, we can.”

  “Fine,” Dirk sighed, giving in. “Let’s go find him, then—”

  “No!” Max interrupted, the word flying from his mouth before he had time to think. Sarah gave him an inquisitive look.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  “Yeah, sorry. Just sort of a stressful day.” An idea had taken root, but Max couldn’t share it with the others. “Look, I’m going to talk to Wayne, only by myself. I owe him that much.”

  Dirk didn’t look too happy about it, but he nodded. “Okay, Max.”

  “I’ll see you online later,” Max added. “Really, don’t worry.” He grabbed his things and headed out the door.

  “That was weird,” Sarah said after he’d left.

  “Yeah, tell me about it,” Dirk agreed.

  Max crossed Main Street and headed back to school, noticing storm clouds building on the horizon. They seemed to reflect the chaotic feelings stirring inside him. What do you do when home doesn’t feel like home
anymore? What does family mean when you find out you’re not really who you thought you were? And what if what you want means leaving all your friends behind? Max kept thinking about the portal and the knowledge that Sporazo—no, his father—had created it. It was part of his inheritance, left to him over the ages. Max somehow knew that he’d be able to open the portal and get away from Madison. But leaving without saying good-bye . . . could he even do it?

  Yes. Because saying good-bye is too hard.

  Max rounded the corner and Parkside Middle School came into view. By the time he’d reached the front doors, he’d made up his mind.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  STORM DOORS

  WAYNE WAS IN THE LOCKER room looking for shoulder pads big enough to fit him (the coach had said he’d find him a pair even if he had to go to the NFL). If the big kid was surprised to see Max, he didn’t show it.

  “Can we talk?” Max asked, wanting to get right to the point.

  Wayne nodded as he put the undersized shoulder pads down. The sound of muffled voices and a locker closing could be heard nearby. “Somewhere more private?” Wayne suggested.

  “Yeah, good idea.”

  Wayne grabbed a leather satchel and he and Max left the locker room (besides being noisy it smelled like wet feet). They eventually found a quiet spot on the gym bleachers. Max couldn’t help but notice the rope stretching down from the ceiling—even just hanging there it seemed to be mocking him.

  “Is this about my offer?” Wayne asked.

  “Yeah. It’s practically all I’ve been thinking about.”

  “Did your dwarf friend help?”

  “He told us about the Shadric Portal and the fact that you had to be good to handle it.”

  Wayne reached into his shirt and removed an amulet that hung around his neck. It was silver and had a diamond-shaped stone that was misty gray in color. “The Amulet of Alignment,” he said, holding it up for Max to see. “It turns color based on your deeds: white for good and black for evil.”

  Max squinted at the small stone set in silver. “It’s kind of grayish.”

  “Most people aren’t black or white,” Wayne said with a shrug. “I try to do the right thing. Anyway, this was a gift to help remind me of that.”

  “Cool,” Max said, watching as Wayne slipped the amulet back under his shirt. He looked at the rope, remembering his humiliation from earlier—it represented everything that was wrong in his world. Here he was a loser. In the Magrus he was something special.

  Overhead, the patter of rain began to hit the old school’s roof.

  “If I go, can I come back?” Max asked after a moment.

  “Of course.”

  “I can just step back and forth anytime I want?”

  “I don’t see why not.”

  Max scratched his head. “And they really want me to come back? To rebuild the Tower?”

  “They do,” Wayne answered. “You’re an important and powerful person.”

  Max hesitated—it was one thing to think he’d made up his mind, but another to actually say it out loud. He took a breath. “Yes—I want to go back.”

  “Aha!” came Dirk’s voice from behind the bleachers. He stepped out to face them, pointing at Max with an accusatory finger. “Send me away while you go and find Wayne by yourself, huh? And you really thought I was going to fall for that? I knew you were up to something.”

  “You followed me?” Max did his best to sound outraged even though he knew Dirk was right.

  “We both did,” Sarah announced, stepping out to join Dirk.

  Max suddenly had a lump in his throat that felt as big as a grapefruit. “Look, I didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. I just didn’t want to say anything.”

  “Yeah, well, obviously,” Dirk replied, his hands on his hips.

  “It’s just that everything’s different now,” Max continued. “You don’t know how it feels to have the kind of power I had in the Magrus. I stood before kings and their armies, and they listened to me. And then I come home and have to put up with people like Ricky Reynolds. They just won’t leave me alone, even though I know I could reach out to the Codex and stop them. Even here in the Techrus where magic doesn’t work right, I could do enough to make sure they never laid a hand on me or anyone like me again. But I . . . can’t. And so I’m just tired of being the victim.”

  Sarah’s expression softened. “Max, I’m so sorry.”

  “It used to be that I was a kid pretending to be a wizard,” Max continued. “But now I’m a wizard pretending to be a kid. I was born in the Magrus; my father was the greatest arch-sorcerer who ever lived. Whatever I’m supposed to do with my life, it’s going to be there—not here.”

  “What about us?” Dirk asked, his voice growing quiet. “You know, your friends?”

  “Guys, it’s not like I’m going and will never come back. I’ll have the Shadric Portal, remember?” Max turned to Wayne, realizing he wasn’t 100 percent sure on that point.

  “It belongs to you,” Wayne said. “Who else could even use it?”

  “See?” Max continued. “I can step between the realms whenever I want. You guys can come and visit me whenever you want.”

  “What about school?” Sarah asked. “You can’t just drop out.”

  “He can continue his studies at the Wizard’s Tower,” Wayne interjected. “I’m sure there’s still a lot for him to learn.”

  Max nodded. “So when you think about it, it’s not like I’m quitting school—I’m just switching schools. Don’t you guys see? This is what I’m supposed to do.”

  “Even if it is,” Sarah said, choosing her words carefully, “there are ways back to the Magrus that don’t involve black magic. Messing around with something like the Shadric Portal shouldn’t be taken lightly—you of all people should know that.”

  “Yeah,” Dirk jumped in, “Send Wayne back to find Sumyl and her magic carriage. But for now, you need to listen to Sarah.” Hearing Dirk argue that he should stop and think things over was like the Pillsbury Doughboy swearing off bread. But they did have a point. Then again, Max’s own father had made the artifact, just like the Codex of Infinite Knowability resting in his backpack. Something had made Max take it from his nightstand—as if the magical book knew what was going to happen. Whether that was a good thing or not, Max wasn’t sure.

  “I’m sorry,” Max said, rising from his seat. “I’ve actually been thinking about this for a long time—long before Wayne got here. This isn’t my home anymore.”

  Sarah stepped up to him and put her hand on his arm. “Max, I’m asking you not to do this. I know things have been hard, but taking the easy way out—especially when it involves Shadric magic—isn’t the answer. This is how people lose track of themselves—they take shortcuts. They forget that when it comes to the easy way, there’s always a cost.”

  Wayne rose and pulled a black object out of his satchel. It was about the size of a small laptop computer and was shaped like an oval. It reminded Max of an empty picture frame, only it was a shimmering black and adorned with intricately carved skulls. The skulls made a design so that they were bound together by a twisted, thorny vine. Four blue gems were inlaid along the surface, and at the top a rune-covered door peeked through the twisting mass of skulls and vines. “This is what the arch-sorcerer Sporazo created,” Wayne said, holding it in front of Max. “This is the Shadric Portal.”

  “Please, don’t . . . ,” Sarah warned, but Max wasn’t listening. He took the ancient artifact in his hand and the blue stones immediately began to glow.

  “Dude, skulls are not good!” Dirk warned. “But at least they’re not red.”

  Suddenly the stones turned red, casting a crimson light over the portal’s surface.

  “It knows you,” Wayne said.

  Max rose and slowly walked to the center of the gym floor, the Shadric Portal humming in h
is hand. The others trailed behind him.

  “Seriously, just put it down,” Dirk said, his voice growing tense. “When have glowing red skulls ever been a good thing?”

  “Max, listen to us,” Sarah urged. “Don’t open the portal.”

  But Max could feel the magic crawling up his arms like he was reaching into a warm bath. The humming sensation increased, filling his ears and drowning out the voices of his friends. The artifact grew even warmer, and the strange metallic frame started to soften and stretch. Max knew that magic was being employed, but it was as foreign a feeling as it was familiar. Whatever the Portal was, it was a part of him. And yet it was also alien and unknown.

  Max began to pull the sides of the Shadric Portal apart, watching as the frame expanded, growing impossibly as it did so. He stretched his hands as far as he could, widening the portal to the size of a small door. Through it, reality seemed to bubble and grow dark. Max let go, somehow knowing that the portal wouldn’t fall. He stepped back and watched as it hovered in the air. On the other side a strange world came into focus: The ground floated like great islands of ice over a swirling, chaotic storm. In the distance a structure rose, like an ancient temple thrust together when the world was new. Then the voice rolled through the door and exploded around them. It was deep and moved with the impending finality of an iceberg calving into the ocean. “It is done!” the voice roared, and there was no doubt who it belonged to.

  “The Maelshadow!” Max cried out, letting go of the portal.

  “Hurry, close it!” Sarah exclaimed. “Max! Do something!”

  Max grabbed hold of the artifact again, this time pushing on it with all his might. The stones flickered, but grew a darker shade of red. The frame refused to budge.

  “It’s not working!” Max cried, not knowing what else to do. Suddenly a black fog poured from the open portal, reaching with handlike fingers as it crawled along the floor.