by Rain Oxford
Fortunately, because I knew about it, I could control it. I still didn’t feel confident in it enough to make close friends, but that might have had more to do with knowing that I wasn’t human.
I was even able to graduate from the university, which was kind of bittersweet. I would get out of my classes and expect to see Luca there, waiting for me, and then I would remember why he wasn’t. The first thing I did when I returned was tell the university that there was a family emergency and freeze Luca’s class, saying he would return as soon as he could.
I practiced magic at least a few hours a day, especially since graduating. Of course, I knew this wasn’t enough. Apprentices on Syndrial practiced and studied all day every day from the time their magic is discovered until they become priests, at which point, they study and practice even more. It wasn’t that I was lazy or that I still denied the existence of magic. I just felt it was part of another life. I could either be human or a caster, and although I was a caster whether I liked it or not, I wasn’t quite ready to give up my humanity.
I did make some improvements to myself and my supplies while testing my limits. Not wanting to be rendered powerless if I broke my right hand, I made myself ambidextrous. With my true name, I acknowledged that my powers were possibly limitless with enough practice. I could increase my I.Q., improve my physique, and enhance my stamina for all things.
But I didn’t. I knew enough about magic to know that I could seriously fuck myself up. There were consequences for my actions. Giving myself an unstoppable heart would just leave something else vulnerable.
Painter had magical supplies that enhanced his skills. With much less experience, I had to modify what I had and make due. In addition to my magic book and my portal-ring, I had a fountain pen, which was a gift from my brother. While it contained no magic originally, I enchanted it to never run out of ink. I also fixed a small needle in the cap in case I ever needed to write in blood… again.
In my opinion, my life wasn’t as crazy as it could have been. I was settled. Yet something was missing.
I was constantly aware that one of the gods could attack me for the Book of Names. At the same time, every night, I would go to bed feeling disappointed that it didn’t happen. I missed Syndrial, my brother, and adventure.
Keira sunk her fingers in my hair and straightened. “Isis is trying to call you. Do you want to speak to her?”
“No.” I took her hand. “Let’s go do something.”
“We just did something. I have to settle a dispute on Syndrial, but I’ll wait until Isis gives up on bothering you.”
“I appreciate that.”
“Well, until then, let’s go celebrate our victory.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“Give me five minutes, then come into the bedroom. I’m pretty sure you’ll get the idea.” She walked out of the room.
Since Keira didn’t live in the realm of the gods with her brethren, she was the most like a human. Keira was a protector, especially of children. She was a goddess, so her morality was quite different from mine, but she was kind and loving. She picked up on human culture quickly and also brought home stray animals every time she walked out the door. The manager wouldn’t let us have pets. This was unfortunate when it came to taking a sweet kitten to the pound… less unfortunate when it came to the skunk she wanted to keep.
She also purred, which was an adorable plus.
Keira always knew what mood I was in and how to handle me, whether I was stressed from my classes and wanted a quiet night in, or upset over my brother and wanted to get out of the house. While she was the most accommodating woman I’d ever known, happy to do whatever I felt up to, she was completely independent.
I could text her that I was coming home for lunch and she’d be there with lunch ready, or if I had to miss dinner, she was happy to make her own plans. If I could get away for a few days, we’d go camping so that she could shift into her jaguar form. If I couldn’t, she would pop off to Syndrial where she fit in. One time, when I hadn’t seen her for a week, she showed up at the bookshop I worked in and we had a picnic.
She shared her issues at “work” which usually consisted of children being in terrible situations on Syndrial, and she showed appreciation for my advice. I liked to fix problems; that was how I connected with people. She understood this and asked for my advice, even if she didn’t need it.
Every once in a while, I wondered if I gave her what she wanted. However, she always came back to me, so I figured I did. Then again, the Painter would say she wanted to use me. Maybe she did, but she made me happy, so I didn’t really care. She was the kind of woman I could see myself with for the rest of my life.
We spent a couple hours celebrating before Keira was out of time. She left, so I sat down at the kitchen table and started up my laptop.
My apartment was nothing special. I certainly wasn’t famous yet. I continued working at the bookstore. Although I was now working alone, I really wasn’t busy most days. I didn’t expect the shop to survive much longer, which was a shame. Luca and I had had so much fun working there together.
There is no point holding on to the past; it is already gone.
In addition to the standard supplied appliances, the kitchen had a four-person table with numerous chips, scratches, and stains. Luca and I had bought it for ten dollars at a yard sale down the street and carried it home. At the time, it had been a lot of money. A black trash bag was taped over the window overlooking the neighbor’s parking spot, because Luca and I never cared enough to buy something more conventional. Besides, black went with everything.
My kitchen was humble. The only thing “me” about it was the fact that I had four different coffee makers, a coffee grinder, and three cabinets dedicated to my collection of beans, k-cups, and grounds. I had a standard percolator, a Keurig, a Moka pot, and a French press. By combining different brands, roasts, and flavors of coffee, as well as preparations, I always got a unique cup.
I also had a collection of author-themed mugs. My favorite was a white one with the words, Keep Clam and Proofread on it.
Our living room sported a blue secondhand couch, brown who-knows-how-many-hands easy chair, a coffee table that we had glued back together a dozen times, a spiffy fifty-five-inch smart TV, which was connected to our gaming PC, x-box, and PlayStations. Keira had politely hid our games and machines in the cabinet since I didn’t feel like playing them without my brother.
Because Luca and I got academic scholarships, worked full time at the shop, and cheaped out when it came to food or household necessities, we could afford what we really wanted.
Along the south wall of the living room were three doors; two bedrooms and a bathroom between them. I hadn’t changed anything in Luca’s room, although I would sometimes go in there to read his adventures.
Doing so usually left me feeling worse, though. It had been six months since I learned I was a caster and four months since I returned to Earth, yet I didn’t feel like I was any closer to saving my brother.
I needed to work harder. It wasn’t a matter of freeing him from the book. I could do that at any time. The problem was that I didn’t want to save the Painter, I wanted to save Luca. The gods were willing to make him Luca again, but doing so would require them to have Painter’s true name. If they got his name, they had control over him. I couldn’t let that happen.
Instead, I wanted control over him myself. I was willing to crush everything that was the Painter in order to get Luca back. It wasn’t my fault that Painter killed my family. It was Luca I missed.
Bright light filled the room and I groaned, expecting Isis to appear. However, when the light faded, my apartment had vanished. “Not again.”
Chapter 2
I was standing in an empty room with a light over me. The floor was stone, but I couldn’t see any walls. Above me was a sort of spotlight, which only lit a five-foot circle around me. At the edge of the circle was Thoth, the god of wisdom.
He was in hi
s mortal vessel, of course, so he wasn’t seven feet tall with the head of an Ibis. His vessel was a large man, but his wisdom managed to bleed through. His hair was short and medium brown and his eyes were dark brown. I had only been in the pyramid once before and that had been immediately following my trials. It was usually Isis who came to me to ask me to do things. Since it was Thoth who gave me my Writer magic, I owed it to him to listen, at least. Plus, the situation felt a lot more serious than usual.
“What’s going on?” I asked, not interested in small talk.
“Maori, the gatekeeper and ruler of Kradga, has the Sword of Draskara, a weapon that can destroy a god.” His voice was strong and blunt and his face was expressionless. “I have discussed it with the others and we have come to the conclusion that you and the Painter are best suited to attaining this weapon.”
“Excuse me?”
His expression didn’t change. “Maori, the gatekeeper and---”
“I heard you,” I interrupted. “I just don’t know which part to address first. You gods aren’t immortal, right? Despite the fact that you call people mortals?”
“We never age and we are difficult to defeat, but we can be killed, yes.”
“Then any weapon can destroy a god.”
“That is not the case. Gods can be killed through magic. A mortal blade, for example, cannot harm us.”
I took a moment to think about that. “Can a mortal blade kill me?”
“We suspect so, but you should be more durable than a full mortal.”
“Okay. I’ll table that for now. You want the Painter and me to work together? He killed my parents.”
“He killed the people that adopted you,” he corrected. “That does not bother us.”
“I’m not working with him.”
“I expected you to refuse, but Isis insists. You two work better together and your powers are stronger when you are together. You will need all the help you can get to face Maori.”
“Keira can go with me.”
“Bast cannot enter Kradga, as it exists in the same realm as the gods. You need your brother. As demigods, you two can live in either realm.”
A planet could be seen from Syndrial. Syndrial natives called it the mother planet, as it was massive. People believed it was where the gods lived when they weren’t inside their vessels. They also believed that if they proved themselves worthy to the gods, they went to the mother planet when they died and spent their afterlife in paradise. On the other hand, if they angered the gods, they went to Kradga, which was a molten red moon of the mother planet. Like the realm of the gods, it was not for the living.
“I need Luca, not the Painter. Give me Luca back and I will fight your villain for you.”
“Luca is a creation of the Painter.”
“I know exactly what he is. I also know there’s a way to force the Painter into being Luca permanently.”
“Not without his true name.”
“I won’t give you his true name. That would be betraying him.”
“Then I cannot give you what you ask.”
“I can,” said another voice. Beside him, Anubis appeared. Like Thoth, Anubis was in his vessel.
“You can bring Luca back without his name?” I asked, trying not to get my hopes up. Four months was a long time to miss my brother. If the gods could bring him back, I was willing to fight any number of monsters.
“Using the amulet he enchanted, I can trap him as the mortal Luca. It would be as if he were wearing the amulet and could not take it off.”
“That works for me… except that he would hate me for taking away his magic.”
“With his true name, you can remove the Painter’s memories and make him believe he is your human brother.”
“I can’t lie to him the way he lied to me. I still want you to do it, though. Make him Luca and I’ll deal with his resentment.”
“Very well. You must give me the amulet and release him from his prison.”
“Book. It’s not a prison. He can do whatever he wants in his book.”
“It still sounds like a prison to me. Call my name three times when you are ready for me to trap your brother.”
With that, light filled the room and I was transported back to my apartment. “I don’t need a guilt trip from a god,” I muttered to myself.
“Spoke to Anubis, then?” Keira asked, exiting our bedroom. “It’s part of his job. What did he want?”
“Apparently, Maori has a weapon they’re afraid of, but they want me to work with the Painter.” I went into the bedroom and she followed. Keira and I shared a queen-sized bed with dark blue beddings.
To the right of the bed was a writing desk, covered with notes for my books and books on writing. Across from the bed was an eight-foot wide, four-foot tall cabinet and bookshelf combo with a small television set on it. In the far wall was the door to a decent walk-in closet. Aside from that, the walls were covered with abstract art and posters of monsters. Luca and I hadn’t collected many personal affects because we had always planned to move out of the apartment when we graduated. My parents’ house hadn’t been paid off when they died, so I’d had to sell it.
Keira nodded as I opened the drawer of my nightstand. “And you refused to work with him unless they turned him back into Luca.”
“Yes.” I pushed up the false bottom and took out the book my brother was trapped in. It was a plain black book with no writing on the cover. Inside, it was full of adventures and conversations my brother had. In the book, he could create worlds and people. He could kill or torture people who had wronged him in real life. I read them sometimes. If he ever killed me in his fantasies, which I thought was justified, I never saw it.
“And you look determined, so I’m guessing they agreed,” Keira surmised. “I really need to pay more attention to them.”
“Anubis said he can do it with the amulet. Do you know anything about Maori? What his motive is or how to fight him?”
“I don’t. I’d never met him even before I took a shapeshifter body. As for his motive… we all have pretty much the same motive; rule and get more power.”
“You’re not power hungry.”
“Yes, I am. I just have priorities. I want power to help children and women, particularly those who pray to me. By praying to me, they are giving me power. If I didn’t have enough power, I couldn’t protect them.”
“Why do you want to protect them?” I asked.
“You’ve never asked me that before,” Keira evaded.
“I’m a patient person. Your motive is to protect and I don’t need to know more than that until you’re ready to tell me.”
“Maybe I will tell you someday.”
I went to the abstract canvas painting hanging over the bed and pulled it down, revealing a wall safe. My apartment manager would have blown a gasket had he seen it, but I could remove it magically when I moved out. I waved my hand in front of the safe, emitting a small burst of energy, and said my password. It had taken quite a lot of time to create a safe that unlocked only to my magic, voice, and password.
In the months since I became a caster of Syndrial, I learned how powerful the written word was. I was more than powerful enough to protect myself and Luca, all I lacked was the experience.
I pulled the amulet out of the safe.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Keira asked. “He might be pissed at you.”
“And I deserve that, but I’m angry with the Painter, too. He killed my parents.”
“Well, they weren’t your bio---”
“They were the people who took me in and loved me as their son.”
“If you’re so mad at him, why release him at all?”
“I miss my brother. The stronger my magic gets, the harder it is to remember the false memories of Luca.”
“Didn’t he offer to wear the amulet for you?”
“He’s too addicted to power. It wouldn’t last.”
“So you’re going to assert your power over him instead. Sur
e, that’s not worse than him killing the humans who wouldn’t let him see you,” she said sarcastically.
I glared at her. “I don’t want him killing you or anyone important to me. He killed my first girlfriend and drove everyone else away because his wife was a bitch. His stepmother, who tried to seduce him, was a goddess. He’ll drive you off, too.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” she said, as if I was being ridiculous.
“You will if you two fight. I adore you, Keira, and I’m fully committed to our relationship, but if you and my brother can’t get along, I’m choosing him. I won’t be able to help it.”
Her hurt expression told me she was taking me seriously. “Isn’t that a bit of an overreaction?”
“I wish I could say it was, but my brother comes first,” I answered. She didn’t say anything, so I brought the book and amulet into the living room. “How do I release him?”
She shrugged. “You put him in there.”
I sat on the couch, opened the book, pulled my pen out of my pocket, and wrote in a blank spot on the first page.
How do I release you?
For a few minutes, nothing happened. Then a line appeared beneath mine.
Burn the original spell.
Do not burn this book.
I pulled out my Writer book and opened it to the first page. The trap was one of the very first spells I had written. Of course, my castings could be rearranged or hidden in the book, so I never had to hunt for a particular one.
I gently tore the bottom half of the page, careful that I didn’t accidentally undo any other spells. As soon as I did, the page reformed in the book without the casting.
“Kitmas.” The piece of paper burst into flames in my hand, and as it turned to ash, the smoke condensed, growing thicker and darker until the Painter was standing in front of me. For the second time, I saw him in his true form, which meant he was identical to me. He had the same medium brown hair, blue eyes, and six-one, lean frame. He wore a leather jacket, dress shirt, jeans, and leather boots, all black.
