The Revenge of Magic

by James Riley

  Damian wasn’t alone in his body anymore.

  The shadowy, half-transparent Old One from the officers’ mess pushed its way into Damian’s body, overlapping him completely, and opaque crystal armor slowly began to grow over Damian’s hospital gown. The boy’s hands and feet stretched out and split into a mass of tentacles, as did his teeth, now protruding from a skull-like helmet. And within seconds, where there had once been a human boy, now there was only an Old One, Damian’s body transformed by the creature into its own form.

  “No!” Sierra shouted, trying to run to Damian, but Fort quickly grabbed her, holding her back. “I thought I expelled it from him. I didn’t know!”

  Fort stepped in front of her, his hands raised and his Healing spells at the ready. “You might have,” he whispered, as the creature rose into the air, its attention seemingly taken with its transformation. “I think this one’s been searching for him but couldn’t find him while he was asleep. Sierra, you need to wipe the magic from his mind right now. Before it figures out how to access it.”

  “I’ll try,” she said, and pointed her raised palm at the Old One. But the creature just stared at her for a moment and she collapsed to the floor, her body shuddering as shadows played over her eyes.

  And just like that, Fort’s legs were free. He leaped at the Old One, the only spell he could think of that might actually hurt this thing at the front of his mind: Cause Heavy Wounds. Without having mastered it, he’d just have the one chance, but maybe that’d be enough.

  “Mon—” he started to shout, only for the Old One’s tentacle to snake out and wrap around his throat. The tentacle squeezed, cutting off Fort’s air, and with it, the rest of his spell.

  WE HAVE FOUND THE ONE WE SEARCHED FOR, the creature’s voice erupted in Fort’s head as it and Sierra both rose a few feet off the ground. WE WILL TOLERATE NO FURTHER INTERFERENCE.

  Fort’s air began to run out, and he struggled to free himself, or even just to breathe, but the Old One held him tightly as another tentacle moved toward Fort’s head. It gently brushed against him, and his mind filled with the presence of something too large to be contained by such a small skull.

  Millions of years of memories flooded into Fort’s mind. Stars appeared, lived out their lifetimes, then exploded, while billions of species winked in and out of existence. Nothing in his own life mattered now, not in the face of such an existence. To the Old One, Fort lived for less time than an insect, and had just as much impact.

  And the creature’s knowledge! It understood concepts that humans wouldn’t discover for thousands of years. Its senses weren’t contained to three dimensions, and Fort couldn’t take the overload of information coming from the tenth, fifteenth, twentieth dimensions.

  Tears rolled down his face as the creature’s presence filled his mind, and he wanted to laugh, to scream, anything to stop the madness he was forced to see, the millennia of life that he couldn’t comprehend. He couldn’t contain this much time, this much awareness of the universe.

  Please, stop, he whispered in his head, willing to do anything if it just released him, let him never have to witness these horrors again.

  And strangely, it did. The Old One abandoned Fort’s mind and dropped his body, and his awareness crumbled back to just three dimensions, his own life, his own memories, his own time. He collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath.

  The thing that had been Damian turned its attention from him to now stare at two shaking soldiers standing in the doorway.

  “Stop!” one shouted, aiming his weapon at the Old One.

  The creature just stared at them for a moment, then raised several tentacles. YOU HAVE NO TAINT OF MAGIC IN YOU, AND SO WILL MAKE FOR PERFECT SERVANTS, AS IS HUMANITY’S DESTINY. AND THIS TIME, THERE WILL BE NO REBELLION.

  Tentacles exploded out from the Old One’s hand, piercing the two soldier’s minds. They screamed, their bodies shaking violently, only to abruptly go silent and stand up straight.

  And then they turned their weapons on Fort.

  - FORTY-ONE -

  DESTROY THE BOY, THE OLD One commanded, and the two soldiers took aim.

  Barely able to think, Fort threw his hand out toward the men and shouted, “Phon t’cor!” The soldiers’ bodies instantly turned ethereal, and the weapons fell out of their insubstantial hands to the floor.

  The Old One hissed. WHAT SPELL IS THIS? IT WAS A MISTAKE TO ALLOW YOUR KIND MAGIC, WHEN YOU WERE SERVANTS. YOU BETRAYED US AND TOOK THE POWER FOR YOURSELVES.

  A tentacle swept out over Fort, and he tried to dodge but couldn’t move fast enough. The tentacle just hovered over his head, though, then retracted. What had it done?

  WE WILL NOT ALLOW HUMANITY THE POWER TO REBEL THIS TIME, the creature said, and launched a different tentacle at him. Fort managed to sidestep it, but it sliced through the sleeve of his uniform. A second one snaked toward him, and he knew he couldn’t avoid them all.

  Fortunately, he didn’t have to. All he needed to do was cast Ethereal Spirit, and . . .

  And the spell wasn’t there.

  Fort gasped as a tentacle cut into his shoulder, sending lightning bolts of pain up and down his body. “You . . . you took my spell,” he gasped, falling back against the floor.

  YOU ARE A CHILD PLAYING WITH FLAME, the creature said, pulling its tentacle free of Fort. Then it slowly rose higher in the air—Sierra with it—as the two soldiers collapsed, unconscious. YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT THE TRUE POWER OF MAGIC. The Old One glanced upward, and a magic missile slammed up through the floors above, all the way up through the building, revealing blue sky above. NOW, IT IS TIME TO GATHER AN ARMY TO SERVE US. THOSE HERE SHALL DO FOR A START.

  Fort fell back against the wall, writhing in pain from the wound in his shoulder. He quickly healed himself, gritting his teeth as the Old One and Sierra continued to rise through the room. He couldn’t just let them go, but what choice did he have? The few spells he still knew didn’t seem likely to help, and anything he cast, the creature could apparently just steal right from his head. Was it using Damian’s Telepathy spells, just like when Sierra had stolen Jia’s spells for him?

  Sierra! Fort looked up at the floating girl, her eyes covered in shadow. If only she was free, her magic could push the creature out of Damian again, just like he’d seen her do in her memories of six months ago. But how could he free her without using mind magic himself? If only he had some spell that could heal someone’s mind, or . . .

  Wait a second. Headaches. Jia had pointed out that healing a headache was dangerous, because the magic would restore the brain to a previous point, and could wipe out memories.

  What if it could also wipe out magical possession?

  “Hey!” Fort shouted, pushing off the wall and waving his uninjured arm. “I’m not done with you yet!”

  The Old One paused in its flight and turned its skull-helmeted head back to Fort. YOU ARE OF NO CONSEQUENCE.

  “That’s probably true,” Fort said. “But I know someone who is.” Before the creature could take another spell from him, he launched himself at Sierra, the words to Heal Minor Wounds on his lips. He had more powerful Healing spells available, but he didn’t want to restore her mind to months or years in the past and cause her to forget all of her magic, too.

  “Mon d’cor!” he shouted, reaching out for Sierra’s foot with his hand.

  But the Old One was too fast. Its tentacles intercepted Fort’s hand before he could reach Sierra, and the Healing energy dispersed into the creature instead. Fort’s momentum crashed him against one of the hospital beds, but he pushed to his feet immediately, figuring the Old One would try to wipe this spell too.

  But instead, the Old One shrieked in agony. And where the creature’s skull helmet had been, Fort saw Damian’s human eyes staring back at him for a brief moment.

  But the tentacles quickly reappeared, and the creature took control once more.

  PAIN, it screeched in Fort’s head, which felt like it would explode from the force of the creature’
s distress. YOU KNOW CORPOREAL MAGIC? YOU HAVE NO IDEA OF THE POWER YOU HOLD.

  What kind of magic? And Healing magic . . . hurt it? Or did it just feel pain from being pushed out of Damian, like Fort had hoped would happen with Sierra?

  Either way, this was something he could use.

  Fort held his hands up toward the Old One in what he hoped was a threatening manner. “That’s right,” he said, bringing Heal Minor Wounds back to mind. “I know, um, corporeal magic. And if you don’t let her go, I’ll use it on you again!”

  The Old One shuddered at that, then sent several tentacles flying over Fort’s head. He jumped for the nearest one, ready to cast his Healing spell on it, but the tentacles were too quick, and Heal Minor Wounds disappeared from his mind.

  YOU HAVE HURT US, the Old One said, and the force of its anger sent Fort to his knees. FOR THAT, YOU SHALL SUFFER YOUR WORST FEAR.

  Out of nowhere, images of the attack in D.C. began playing through Fort’s mind, and he froze, fear and rage filling him. This had to be the Old One’s mind magic. But why was he searching Fort’s memories?

  YOUR GREATEST PAIN SHALL BE INFLICTED ON YOU ONCE AGAIN! the creature shouted.

  When he looked up again, though, the Old One and Sierra had both disappeared.

  “No!” Fort shouted, pushing back to his feet. “No! Come back!” He slammed his fist against the bed, then again, screaming in frustration. This was all his fault! If he hadn’t forced Sierra to wake up, none of this would have happened. Dr. Opps had been right the whole time.

  Now the creature had to be using its mental powers on the rest of the school above. He could already hear shouts through the hole the creature had made, and what sounded like explosions. Would the Destruction students or the soldiers be able to stop it?

  Not if they didn’t know its weakness. Healing magic could hurt it, but right now, only Fort knew that. He had to tell someone. There might still be time!

  Fort leaped across the nearest bed and ran to the door of the hospital room, only to stop as the entire room shook. Shook in a familiar way.

  Almost like a truck had just passed by.

  Fort froze, terror flowing like ice water in his veins. Could the Old One have . . . ? No. He was just paranoid after reliving the memories a moment ago. It couldn’t—

  A second tremor sent Fort crashing to the floor. Bits of the ceiling and the floors above began raining down through the hole the Old One had created. Something slammed into his back, and he groaned, then quickly scrambled under one of the nearby beds to avoid getting hit.

  “No,” he whispered, hiding his face in his arms and squeezing his eyes shut as the building shook around him. “This can’t be happening. Not again!”

  As the quake intensified, the floor jumped beneath him, tossing both Fort and the bed into the air. Fort landed hard on his healed shoulder, but even that pain didn’t cut through his fear. The entire building felt like it was collapsing around him.

  Could this be another dream? Another one of Sierra’s memories?

  A giant black claw exploded through the floor beneath him, throwing the bed against the nearby wall as a second and third finger rose up around him.

  A roar echoed up from below, just like the one he’d heard in D.C., and in his nightmares ever since the attack.

  And then the creature closed its enormous clawed fingers around him, and just like his father before him, Fort was pulled down into the depths.

  - FORTY-TWO -

  EVERYTHING WENT PITCH BLACK AS the creature pulled him down, and Fort began to hyperventilate, not able to move, not even able to think. He was going to die. Just like his father had. There was nothing he could do. The creature had returned. He had nothing to fight it with. No Destruction magic. Nothing.

  He screamed, out of fear more than any hope for help. But the only response was another roar from the monster, and Fort knew then that no one would be coming to rescue him.

  Everything began to get hazy as his breathing grew faster, and part of him knew he’d pass out if he couldn’t slow it down. But what did that matter? Maybe it’d be better to be knocked out if he was going to be . . . to be eaten?

  “NO!” Fort screamed at himself. “Not again. Not again!” He couldn’t let someone else down, not like he’d failed his father, even if that someone else was him. But what could he do? The fear was too much, and there was no way to overcome that. . . .

  Except there was. A spell he’d found in the Healing book.

  “Nen timo!” he shouted, and his hands began to glow blue, lighting the darkness inside the creature’s fist as they descended. Fort quickly pushed his hands against his chest and felt the cold magic flow into him.

  Immediately his breathing slowed, and the haziness dissipated, though he couldn’t see anything outside the monstrous hand clutching him. Still, he could even think clearly again.

  That Remove Fear spell really worked!

  Okay, Fort thought. Get it together. There has to be a way to escape this.

  Yes, he might get eaten, but right now, he was still alive, and he still had some spells. He rose to his feet, using the creature’s nearby finger as leverage, and steadied himself as best he could against it.

  Strangely, his heart began to race again, and he wondered if the fear was coming back already. But no, this was something . . . different. Frustration and anger began to rise in his chest, and he clenched his fists, wondering if he could punch his way right through the creature.

  This thing killed his father and now was trying to eat him, too! Rage pounded in Fort’s veins, and he bared his teeth. “That’s not going to happen!” he shouted, slamming his fist against the monster’s scaled finger.

  Oddly, their descent stopped immediately.

  Fort stepped back in surprise as the creature’s fingers slowly spread open, revealing two red sources of light in an otherwise pitch-black cavern. The red light lit the walls of the cavern, showing uneven claw marks where the creature had dug up from below. Much farther down, a hint of a weird, greenish glow suggested that maybe the portal to the creature’s dimension was still open somewhere in the depths.

  The creature’s red eyes stared at him from what looked like dozens of feet away, and it roared again. The blast of its breath sent Fort crashing backward into the monster’s scaled fingers, but he didn’t stay down long.

  “Come on!” he shouted, leaping to his feet and waving the creature toward him. “Attack me! I dare you! You’ve got nothing!”

  The hand jolted beneath him as it moved closer to the monster’s head. Its eyes reflected off yard-long teeth, each one glistening with saliva as it opened its mouth.

  Fort knew he should escape, if he could. The fingers were open. Maybe he could jump off the monster’s hand and climb up out of the cavern, back to the surface.

  But right now, escape was the last thing on his mind. All Fort cared about was revenge, both for himself and his father. He wanted the creature to feel pain, as much as or more than what it had put him through when it had taken his father.

  It didn’t even matter anymore if this was the same creature. As far as Fort was concerned, this one would pay for its people’s crimes.

  As he drew closer to the razor-sharp teeth, a practical question filled his mind. Even in his rage, he knew punching the creature wouldn’t exactly do much. He wasn’t afraid to attack it physically, of course, not now. But he needed to put it through agony! If only he’d ever learned Destruction magic . . .

  Wait. There was another spell still in his mind. He’d forgotten about it after considering using it on the Old One.

  Cause Heavy Wounds. The spell he’d taken from the Healing book before Jia had caught him.

  Perfect.

  As its hand reached the creature’s head, it tried to toss Fort into the air, straight at its wide-open mouth. But Fort wrapped both hands around the nearest of the scaled fingers, holding on tightly.

  Then he grinned.

  “Mon d’rexenen cor!” he shouted, castin
g the Cause Heavy Wounds spell, expecting the usual cool Healing energy in his palms.

  Instead, his hands began to burn white hot, sending pain shooting up through his arms and into his shoulders. He screamed in agony . . . but so did the creature. As it did, he felt both the pain and the magical energy leave him and flow into the monster.

  The giant monster roared in anguish as the finger Fort held began to wither away, the muscle dying and the bones crumbling beneath his hands.

  It was working! Fort screamed in joy as the monster moved its hand back away from its mouth, and he dropped off the wilted finger. For a moment, the bloodred eyes almost seemed confused, like the creature wasn’t sure what had caused its pain.

  “That was me!” Fort shouted at it, bashing his fist against his chest. “I did that to you. And I’m going to do it again!”

  Except, he couldn’t do it again. Not having mastered the spell, he could only use it the once.

  The monster paused another moment, then moved Fort back toward its mouth once more. Apparently, as bad as the pain had been, it wasn’t enough to stop the creature completely.

  Fort quickly clambered over to one of the still-healthy fingers and held himself in place as the creature tried to toss him into its mouth again. In spite of the air whistling around him and the force of the monster’s arm, Fort managed to hold on.

  But the creature wasn’t done. It tried throwing him over and over, getting more frustrated with every attempt. Fort’s arms began to tire, and he slipped a bit on the last toss, but the monster had had enough and instead drove its palm toward the nearby rock wall.

  Fort shouted in surprise, barely managing to climb around to the back of the finger as the monster slammed its hand against the wall, sending huge boulders crumbling down into the nothingness below them. A second hit knocked one of Fort’s hands loose, and a small bit of fear began to worm its way back into his heart. “Oh, great,” he said, his hands now starting to sweat. The spell couldn’t have lasted longer?

  But it wasn’t another Remove Fear spell he needed here. The Cause Heavy Wounds spell had worked, but once just wasn’t enough. He needed to cast it again and again until the creature was destroyed. But he couldn’t do that, not without having mastered the spell. . . .