The Magic Book

by Fredric Shernoff

  “I get you. But if you ask me, you’re better off not burning. The smell alone would be awful.”

  Nathaniel smiled. “You have your moments, Ben Goldman. I appreciate the levity.”

  Goldman gave an exaggerated bow. “Your humble servant thanks you for your acknowledgment.”

  They stopped several more times on their route. They saw people on every path, passing by in their hurried way toward one errand or another. Nathaniel looked at the ground as he walked, something he hadn’t done since he reached adulthood and attained the confidence and respect that came with being a Great One. Between that humble, reserved demeanor and the clothes Opellius had provided them, he and Goldman passed by without raising suspicion.

  They saw guards, but only at a distance. Nathaniel didn’t see any of Gustavus’s associates in the Authority, which was no surprise.

  “How much further?” Goldman asked as they passed by the second enclave they’d encountered.

  “We can double-back and stop here,” Nathaniel said. “We should spend the night within one of the enclaves. There’s just the problem of payment.”

  “Right. Of course. You don’t have any money.”

  “I never had money. People only pay for goods and services in enclaves that aren’t their own, and Great Ones never have to pay for anything.”

  “Not a bad deal,” Goldman said.

  “It had its benefits. I know now it was all part of the illusion, meant to push down the only people truly capable of rising up.”

  “Yeah, it sure seems like it. So what are we going to do?”

  “I know not if it’s worth the risk to reveal my identity, but there may not be another way.”

  They walked back to the enclave’s entrance. The typical two-guard formation stood at attention.

  “Let me do the talking,” Nathaniel said. “Your accent is off-putting and will raise suspicion.”

  “God, Nate, you keep harping on my accent. I’m from Philly. We don’t have an accent. We speak totally normal.”

  “This is not Philly,” Nathaniel said.

  “No shit. I’m just fucking with you. I’ll be quiet. Do what you’ve gotta do.”

  “Evening, gentlemen,” one of the guards said as Nathaniel and Goldman approached.

  “Evening to you,” Nathaniel replied.

  “Returning home from an excursion?” the other guard asked.

  “Something of the sort,” Nathaniel said. “We are from an enclave several miles from here and we lost track of time. We’d like to rest here for the evening and will return home come morning’s first light.”

  The first guard, standing nearest to Nathaniel, moved his hand slowly toward the weapon holstered at his side. “You look familiar,” he said. “But your friend here looks strange.”

  Nathaniel fully expected Goldman to retort, but he remained silent.

  “I’ve been told I have a familiar face,” Nathaniel said, smiling. “My friend simply has a face that offends the eye.”

  The guard smiled back. He looked at Goldman. “You’re a sorry sort, keeping friends like this.”

  Goldman nodded and shrugged.

  “All right,” the other guard said. “Go on ahead. There’s an inn for travelers at your second right off the main street.”

  “Thank you,” Nathaniel said. “May the prophet bestow his blessings on you.”

  “And on you,” the guard replied.

  “Was that as tense as I thought it was?” Goldman asked once the guards were out of earshot.

  “It was. The one near you seemed to have no clue but the one near me was suspicious.”

  “Do you think we have to worry about them?”

  “I imagine not yet. But things are going to get more complicated.”

  They arrived at the front door of the inn. Nathaniel looked at Goldman, who held up his hands.

  “I know, I know,” he said. “Let you do the talking.”

  “Aye.”

  Nathaniel hadn’t realized just how much a part of him missed the familiar smells of the world he’d always known. The weathered wood that covered every surface of the inn’s lobby and bar made him ache for his days drinking with Achmis.

  “You okay?” Goldman asked.

  “It reminds me of places I’ve known,” Nathaniel said.

  “Nate, it’s okay to get sentimental.”

  “I don’t know that word.”

  “It means you kinda value what came before. Nothing wrong with that, even if things weren’t always exactly as they seemed. It was still your life.”

  “Aye. It was. Do you miss your life, Goldman?”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Before the war. Before Weber brought hell to your world.”

  Goldman thought for a moment. “I never really knew much different. I mean, my early years were pleasant, like kids’ early years always are in the better parts of the world. But after that, it was all war all the time. In some ways, this most recent time has been some of the best, just because there aren’t as many people dying. Isn’t that some crazy shit?”

  “Not that crazy.”

  “But to answer your question…I guess. I guess I miss some of it. I miss my family and my friends even though it’s really only been a few days since I had to leave my town. Everything happened so fast, and now I’m in another world. I feel like I’m coasting in a lot of ways. Just moving forward no matter what, because if I stop, I’ll lose my mind.”

  “It has been a terrible few days. I’m sorry for dragging you into this, Goldman.”

  “Fuck that, Nate. I came of my own volition, didn’t I? I came with you on this mission. And you saved my ass from what probably would have been my death or a lifetime in prison. I’m here because I choose to be here. I want to see this through with you, even if we are about to bring down a whole lot of no good on our heads. And speaking of…”

  He pointed at an old woman who was walking toward them.

  “Evening,” Nathaniel said.

  “You boys going to lurk in my lobby all night?” she asked. “You get a few minutes courtesy, but you need to buy something or get a room. What’ll it be?”

  “We need a room and something to eat,” Nathaniel said. “But we have no money.”

  The woman laughed. It was a harsh sound. “Well then scram! You have no money, you can’t stay here.”

  Nathaniel raised his head and looked the old woman in the eyes. “Madam,” he said in a hushed voice, “I am Nathaniel of the house of Mansfield, the Great One. I beg you for your courtesy in this matter.”

  Her jaw dropped open. “Nathaniel Mansfield! By the prophet! You are, aren’t you? I have seen your face on the flyers the Authority sent around.”

  “Flyers?” Nathaniel asked.

  “Aye, the ones saying they are looking for you and need to speak with you.”

  “Can I see one of these flyers?”

  “Funny you should mention it, because I was just about to throw one of them away. I’ve got it on the desk right over here.”

  They followed her to her desk. On the counter was a piece of paper with a finely detailed drawing of a face. The dimensions weren’t exactly correct, but he knew his own appearance. If that picture was not the face he’d seen in so many mirrors for so many years, it was close enough to be his brother.

  “They want you to notify them if you see me?”

  “Aye,” the woman said. “And I suppose you’re going to tell me why I shouldn’t.”

  “Listen, lady, there’s more going on than anybody here realizes,” Goldman said.

  Nathaniel whirled around and shot him a look.

  “Young man, what tones are those you speak with? I can scarcely understand a word.”

  “I’m not from here. Not from anywhere close to this ‘world’ you think is all that exists inside those giant walls out there.”

  “Nonsense,” the woman said. “You’d better make a more convincing argument, boy.”

  “Believe what he says,” Nathani
el said. “He speaks the truth that the Authority would not have you hear. My people have served this land for all of time, and I wish only to serve you now by finding the truth and sharing it with everyone.”

  The woman stared at them, shifting her critical gaze from Nathaniel to Goldman and back again. Finally, she spoke. “You can stay here. I know you’re the Great One and my mother raised me to always honor and obey the Great Ones.”

  22

  They ate at the bar and retired to their room. Goldman poked his head into the bathroom and came back out with a look of puzzlement.

  “You have indoor plumbing?” he asked.

  “What does that mean?” Nathaniel asked.

  “This room has a bathroom. Sort of, anyway.”

  “We have water, if that’s what you mean. Some places have proper facilities, some don’t. It all depends on how well things are maintained. The skills were inherited from a very long time ago and it’s the rare man who can still get the systems of water to operate. Such an individual is a great asset to an enclave, for obvious reasons.”

  Goldman sat on the edge of one of the two beds. “I’m really confused, Nate. Your world, and I mean you no offense, but it’s like almost what we would have called medieval where I come from.”

  “Mid-evil?”

  “That word refers to a time period from way before I was born, when things were pretty rough for most people. This place has so many elements of it. It’s in the way you talk, in a lot of the craftsmanship, the food, the candles on the walls, so much fits that mold.”

  “Hmm. But not entirely?”

  “No. Not entirely. You have bathrooms. Running water. I’d heard the Romans had some sort of plumbing system so it’s not totally a modern thing, but still it just speaks to a major inconsistency.”

  “I don’t follow your reasoning,” Nathaniel said.

  “Sorry, I know some of these words aren’t in your vocabulary. What I’m trying to say is that your world seems like a mix of things from my time or maybe a little before or after, plus things from my world’s distant past. Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”

  “When you present it in such a manner, maybe it does. As you said about your world, it’s all I know. I’ve never given anything else any thought.”

  “And now? When I present it like that?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I’ll tell you what you don’t have,” Goldman said as he flopped back on the bed. “TV. I feel like if I’m going to escape from the real world, I’d love to have some entertainment.”

  Nathaniel didn’t respond. He walked to the window and pulled aside the curtain. It was pitch black outside. In the distance he saw a flicker of flame, but nothing else.

  “Yeah, some good old-fashioned entertainment would do the trick,” Goldman said. “It’s missing from my world, you know.”

  “We have entertainment here,” Nathaniel said, watching the dancing light in the sea of black outside the window. “We have plays and music performances. I don’t know what TV is.”

  “You’ve seen screens in my world. Kinda like that. It used to bring things like plays into everyone’s home at the same time. Cameras like the ones on the drones would record the play, and then it would show up on every screen that wanted it. That was a long time ago. Now TV serves mainly to show propaganda of the Weber administration. Packaged lies, I guess you could say.”

  “I understand lies,” Nathaniel said. “We should go to sleep. You need your strength for tomorrow’s journey.” He turned from the window, but that one light remained in his mind.

  “Yeah, yeah. I need my strength. And so do you, Nathaniel. You’ve been running on empty for a while now.”

  Nathaniel didn’t respond, but got into his bed. He blew out the flame in the lamp on the nightstand.

  “Night Nate,” Goldman said.

  “Goodnight,” Nathaniel replied.

  In his dreams, Nathaniel saw that one solitary flame prancing in the darkness. But in the dream, he was weightless and incorporeal, and he felt himself gliding closer to the light. As he did, he began to see the shadows cast by the light, which took on the shape of a torch flame.

  Nathaniel looked down and the torch was in the right hand of Gustavus. In his left hand, the leader of the Authority held Esther by a clump of her long brown hair.

  Nathaniel tried to call out, but he had no body and no voice.

  Nathaniel woke with a start. “Goldman!” he called. “We need to go!”

  Multiple lights winked on and off through the window, and panned around the room like fireflies. Nathaniel looked at the next bed. Goldman was fast asleep.

  Nathaniel grabbed Goldman by the shoulders and hoisted him into a standing position.

  “Aghhh!” Goldman called. “What the fuck, Nate?”

  “We must go! Now!”

  “Why? What’s going on?”

  The door burst open. Standing behind it was a horde of Authority guards.

  “Nathaniel Mansfield,” one said, “you and your accomplice need to come with us.”

  “Accomplice in what?” Nathaniel asked.

  “Don’t make this nastier than it has to be,” the guard said. He unholstered one of the energy weapons Nathaniel had come to loathe so deeply. “This can go easy for you or it can be extremely painful.”

  Nathaniel moved as quickly as he’d ever moved in his long life. Driven by panic, fear, adrenaline and an urge for revenge, he tackled three of the guards in one move and bounced to his feet ready to attack again.

  He heard the crackling sound of the energy weapon coming to life and he rolled to the side. The energy burst burned through the side of his right arm.

  “Run, Goldman!” he called, though he had no idea where Goldman was.

  Nathaniel lashed out in every direction. He heard cries of pain as his blows found their targets, and he heard the disgusting crack of bones as his fists slammed into ribs that had no proper protection for his fearsome strength.

  He heard the energy noises again and he tried to duck, but there were two this time and he avoided one blast only to be hit square in the midsection by another. His muscles convulsed and he fell to the floor. The guards were on him then, kicking and punching.

  Their attacks didn’t have enough force to truly hurt him, but they kept him off balance enough that he couldn’t prevent the next shot, which knocked him out.

  Nathaniel woke in a dark and musty room lit only by a small lamp in the corner. In his mouth was a piece of fabric, which he spat out into his lap. He looked down and saw he was seated in a chair, with thick coils of hide-straps wrapped around him more times than he could count. The bands intertwined and dove over and under each other as his eyes tried to follow, seeking some kind of knot. He strained against them and knew instantly he wasn’t going to be able to break free.

  Across the room, he saw Goldman, awake and watching him from his own, less overwhelming bindings.

  “Nate! Thank God you’re alive! I really didn’t think you were coming back from that.”

  “They got you.”

  Goldman looked embarrassed. “I made it pretty easy for them. When I saw what they could do to you, I mean I was only gonna get myself killed. Kicked one guy really hard in the balls though. I bet he’ll be feeling that shit for a week.”

  Goldman turned his head. Nathaniel saw a large welt there, ugly and purple.

  “You were injured,” Nathaniel said.

  “Like I said, I kicked a dude in the nutsack. I suppose I had this coming. Hurts like a mother though.”

  “It doesn’t look good.”

  “Thanks. How are you feeling? Your arm looks rough.”

  “I’m weak. Too weak to break free. Otherwise, not terrible. The arm hurts, but I was more worried about the burns on my stomach and head.”

  “Nothing that I can see from all the way over here on your head,” Goldman said. “You sure you got shot in the stomach? Wouldn’t be able to see anything with all those straps around you.”
<
br />   “Aye. I felt it.”

  “Does it hurt?”

  Nathaniel shook his head. “Not now.”

  “So you think the woman at the inn sold us out?”

  “Seems likely. I saw the guards gathering outside the window, but I didn’t understand what I was seeing until it was too late. It must have been when she met with them.”

  “Well that’s just rotten of her. I guess your Great One cred doesn’t hold up so well anymore.”

  “Perhaps not.”

  Goldman saw the look on Nathaniel’s face. “Ah man, I’m sorry. That was a real asshole thing to say. This isn’t your fault.”

  “I should have acted faster. I let us both down, and those we are trying to help.”

  “Nate, where I’m from we say, ‘shit happens.’ This is definitely a ‘shit happens’ time. I’m not blaming you. For all we know, it was me and my accent that got us in trouble.”

  “I was under the belief you don’t have an accent,” Nathaniel deadpanned.

  “Cute, Nate. Anyway, do you have any idea where the hell we are?”

  “Nay, Goldman. I’ve never seen this place.”

  “Well, they’ve got us here for a reason. They could have killed me outright, and I’m not sure you would have fared a whole lot better the way things were going. If we’re prisoners, there’s some purpose to it, right?”

  “It would stand to reason.”

  Nathaniel heard the sound of locks sliding open, and then the distinct sound of a heavy door swinging into the opposing wall. He heard feet on solid stairs. He looked at Goldman. “For the sake of all you hold dear, let me talk if talking is necessary,” he whispered.

  “Got it, Nate. Really.”

  Gustavus stepped into the dim light.

  “Nathaniel.”

  “Gustavus.”

  “You’ve caused a great deal of trouble,” Gustavus said. “Some of it I understand, and some of it is quite perplexing.”

  “There’s nothing perplexing about it,” Nathaniel said. “Your ‘world’ is a lie and I intend to expose the Authority and see you pay for all the things you’ve done.”