Soon, Merrick could not distinguish between individual trees and stones and particles of dirt. All of the parts of the earth’s flesh were extensions of his new body. He was not only the earth, but he was also Terrada, the Earth Dragon. The dragon that Ohman had talked about wasn’t a scaly dinosaur-like beast from mythology, but was the living planet itself.
With this realization, his mind melted into warm cotton. He breathed Terrada’s blood and floated inside her womb for what seemed like ages. He did not want to leave. An image of a woman flashed on and off in his mind. It was Mona, and she was chanting some name that he used to go by—Merrick. The memory of his old life, when he was separate from Terrada, hurt like the shards of a repressed childhood trauma. Through the pain, he felt a vague stirring. He used to be known by yet another name before he was born into the human world, but he could not remember what he had been called. For now, it was hard enough to remember that he was still Merrick and that Ohman was by his side.
They traveled deeper until the warmth of the earth’s belly turned to cold and damp and the musk of fresh soil succumbed to the pungent smells of the ocean. Claws scuttled on his back and through his hair. Deep tones reverberated above him like human speech slowed to an unintelligible speed. They passed through limestone slabs that had not seen light for so long that seconds and minutes were indistinguishable from years and centuries.
Slowly, they left the bottom of the frigid ocean behind and became one with warm, rich soil filled with nutrients. He rejoiced as he gave himself to the living roots and to the myriad insects that lived within him.
His joy vanished as he was jerked upward, away from Terrada’s core. His memory of Mona turned to one of her yelling at him to go away—to leave her alone. The pain from this memory helped him maintain his identity more than any of his pleasant remembrances could.
He was Merrick, not Terrada. He accepted this, but he struggled to resist the force that pulled him ever higher, ever farther away from Terrada’s womb.
Abruptly, he was ripped from his newfound peace and thrown onto the hard ground. The dirt beneath his belly was no longer his home, but was instead a fortified shell that shut him out and left him alone, cold, and shivering. He trembled as he opened his own eyes once again and felt with his own fingers. Gradually, he could make out the shape of Ohman sitting next to him. The old man was trying to pry himself loose from Merrick’s panicked grip. Merrick commanded his hands to let go, and they slowly responded. He rolled away from Ohman, wrapping himself into a ball, weeping. One of his tears landed on a single morning blade of grass, and he smiled, remembering what it had been like to be one with the earth.
Slowly, he steadied his breathing and was able to stand. He was no longer in Tysons Corner. He and Ohman were alone in a valley of greens and browns, muted by a thick layer of clouds that blocked the sun. Immense mountains rose up on either side of him, like giant sentinels guarding the planet. He was no longer inside Terrada, but this had to be one of her temples. The majesty was undeniable.
“These are the Highlands of Scotland,” Ohman said. “You’ll find only a few places above ground that are closer to Terrada than here. This is the land of the Earth Clan—your true family.”
“I don’t see anyone.” Merrick said.
“They know we are here.”
Merrick’s insides cramped. He imagined that this was what it felt like to go through withdrawal from drugs.
“I need to go back.”
“You can’t go home…”
“Not home—with Terrada.”
Ohman placed his hand on Merrick’s shoulder and squeezed hard.
“You will return to her one day, perhaps sooner than you would like.”
“How can you live out here when you know what it’s like to be down there—to be a part of her?”
Ohman gave a withered smile.
“Always remember how vulnerable you feel right now and how strong you felt during our journey. Even the mightiest of Drayoom forgets the simple lessons that humility and weakness teach us when we are cast out of our mother’s womb at birth.
“I’ll never look at anything the same way again.”
“Go to your people. They will teach you to control your magic, to make it sing in harmony with the earth around you. Stay with them and learn what you can, but do not forget that in the end, the knowing of your true self is all that matters. Everything will depend on you finding your true self and your creation name.”
Ohman squinted and looked up to the sky. He nodded as if listening to an unheard voice, then turned to walk farther into the valley.
“Why does my brother want to kill me?” Merrick yelled after him. “Why is it so important to you and the world that he fails? At least tell me that before you go.”
Ohman stopped walking, his back still toward Merrick.
Merrick almost tripped over the multitude of white stones on the ground as he hurried to catch up with Ohman, who had resumed his walking.
“Long ago,” Ohman said, “the Seer of the Ard Righ of the Earth Clan was given a prophecy from Terrada in a dream.”
Ohman stopped at a large boulder half buried in the grass and leaned against its cool surface.
“The Seer dreamt of two brothers from the same mother, but one was born of Earth and one was born of Fire—one was ruled by Terrada and the other by Sigela. Each was powerful in his own right, but together they possessed the strength to do the impossible—to return Sigela, the Fire Dragon, to this world from her exile in the heavens. Some believe that Eudroch is one of these brothers. Those people, of course, believe that you are the other brother.”
“What do you think?”
“I think that, until you know who you are, other people have little hope of deciding it for you. You may be the one of whom the prophecy speaks, or perhaps you are not. Nothing is certain, just as nothing is written in our culture, only passed down through our words.”
Ohman pushed himself from the rock, turned, and started walking away again.
“One more question,” Merrick shouted above the wind. “If it takes me and my brother to destroy the world, then why not just kill me now to be safe?”
There was a roar like a freight train passing inches from his face as Ohman melted into the ground. He knew that Ohman was once again riding with Terrada, while he was left with only the wind in his ear and a chill through his spine.
He wanted to follow but didn’t know how to travel underground on his own. He only knew that he had to find shelter for the night and that if his family didn’t find him soon, Eudroch would.
#
Heinin stopped walking and let his hand-carved wooden flute fall from his lips. He looked around while his family’s herd of reindeer ambled slowly around him. His black deerhound, Itsy, circled the herd, keeping the stragglers in line with short, high-pitched barks. Heinin loved the sloping green hills and the snow-capped mountaintops of his home. The air was crisp and the ground always moist, full of life and potential.
His family was poor, but they had the land that he walked daily—the land that he would pass on to his own son one day. He had never wanted to live anywhere else, even though since he turned sixteen, he had felt a yearning to visit other places and meet people that were his own age.
A sudden onset of silence interrupted his thoughts. The herd stood motionless among the patches of lichens and white rock, their heads raised, listening to something that he could not hear. He looked around, wary of an unseen danger. The earth began to shake, and Heinin dropped his flute to the ground. He tried to keep his balance as the familiar green slopes swelled and dropped like waves in a storm at sea—suddenly hostile and not to be trusted.
The herd panicked, trying to escape the inescapable. Itsy whimpered in nervous circles at his feet with her tail between her legs. He crouched down and placed his hands on the pitching earth to steady himself.
He had felt it move like this once before as a child, but his father had been there to keep him safe. With hi
s parents back at the house, he was responsible for keeping himself and the animals from harm, but all he could do was wait for the ground to settle on its own and then try to calm the herd as best he could.
A small fissure opened right next to one of the yearlings, about twenty yards from where he knelt. He tried to move toward the young reindeer, but before he got more than a few trembling paces, the animal’s hind legs slid into the opening. The young animal bleated loudly.
By the time he reached the frightened reindeer, the altered landscape had stopped shaking, and the ground was motionless as if nothing had happened.
Heinin stroked the animal’s small head. He could see that both of her back legs were broken, the bones stuffed unnaturally in the fissure. Her noises were panicking the herd, and her legs would never heal without more attention than he or his parents could afford or give. He knew what had to be done. If his father were here, he might have another plan, but he couldn’t wait for his father to show up, and he couldn’t leave the herd alone in this condition. He had to kill the creature.
He drew his knife. He held the scared animal in his arms and stroked its back, unsuccessfully trying to calm it down. He remembered what his father had taught him. Do it quickly and deep enough to sever the main artery. He looked into the animal’s frightened eyes as he slit its throat. The babe convulsed in his arms, hooves scraping against the exposed rock of the fissure. Hot blood spurted onto Heinin’s face and hands, and the animal went limp in his arms. Heinin set his knife on the ground and bowed his head.
Sometimes, death was a favor. His father would be saddened, but food was scarce, and the death of the yearling meant that his family would have extra meat for the winter. Nothing would be wasted.
He walked over to where Itsy had already begun rounding up the herd. Heinin picked up his flute and began playing a sad melody his mother had taught him. As if in response, the rest of the reindeer clustered around each other—seeking the comfort of the group. A tear welled in his eye as he noticed that the shape of the herd was unchanged despite the loss of the yearling.
His stomach churned, and he stopped playing his flute. He had forgotten about his parents. He told Itsy to stay and then broke out running as fast as he could. As Heinin fought back horrific images of his dying mother and father, his heart was soon pounding as if he had been running from the Devil all day.
CHAPTER 11
CARA AWOKE to the wind rattling the window of the office in which she had fallen asleep. She knew immediately that the storm outside was of Drayoom origin because the Rune Corp building was protected against all forms of naturally occurring weather. She got up and walked down the hall to check her office and her father’s, but they were both empty—Merrick and Ohman were gone.
It was just like her father to do this—his decisions were nonnegotiable and he felt no need to inform her of anything. Rather than discuss his plans with her, he had taken Merrick away without waking her. She thought through all the places in the world they might have gone—maybe to a jungle in Africa or a desert somewhere. It would be someplace isolated but where Terrada dominated. Unfortunately, countless locations matched that description.
For the next hour, she waited in her father’s office for him to return. She rocked back and forth in his mahogany chair and stared wearily out the ornately trimmed window behind his desk. The sky was still dark, broken only by the glowing tendrils of the supernatural storm as it contracted and expanded, searching the darkness, she was sure, at Eudroch’s bidding. Only her father and the great yew, Oodrosil—their magic was all that kept her safe and hidden for the moment.
It would be dawn in a few hours, and Rune Corp’s human employees would start arriving for work, complicating her existing situation. Each time one of them entered the building there would be a slight chance that Eudroch’s careful eye would see past the Rune Corp defenses and recognize the building for what it was—a giant magical shield. If her father didn’t show up soon, she would have to do her best to monitor the building and to work with Oodrosil to remain hidden.
She swiveled around in her father’s chair as the strong smell of damp earth filled her nostrils. The floor in the middle of the office swelled and rose into the form of a man made of wood. Within seconds, the rigid figure had softened into the flesh of her father.
“Where did you take him?” she immediately asked.
Ohman turned away from her and walked over to touch a leaf on one of his hanging plants.
“He is safe for now,” he said.
Cara studied the spot on the floor where her father had just appeared. Checking to see that he was still occupied with the plant, she walked over to the center of the room and picked a single grain of dirt off of the floor.
“I hope you’re right,” she said, hurrying into the hall and slamming the large double doors behind her.
She lifted the piece of dirt on her index finger to her eye. She could tell that the tiny particle missed its companions and felt very alone. She understood its longing. Even though she was happy with her life among the humans, she also longed to be with her own people—to have a relationship and a family of her own some day. Even though her father had warned against it, she couldn’t help being attracted to Merrick. She wasn’t sure that things could work out between them, but she wanted more than anything for him to live long enough for them both to find out.
On her own, she would have little hope of finding Merrick in time to help him prepare for Eudroch, but the particle of dirt had a strong memory of its home.
She raised her finger to her ear and listened. In her mind, she stood among sprawling green mountains crowned with snow-laden peaks. Her flesh raised in tiny bumps from chilled misty air as a gust of wind tossed her hair. She inhaled the sweet smell of mold and dirt. She had been right. Her father had taken Merrick to a place filled with Terrada’s essence, but she had not suspected that he would have been so bold as to take Merrick to the home of the very Earth Clan that had banished him so many years ago.
Cara delicately closed her thumb and index finger over the tiny spec of soil, closed her eyes, and melted into the wood floor beneath her feet. She was on her way to return the particle of dirt to its home in the Scottish Highlands and to find Merrick and help him in any way she could.
#
Judging from the familiar skyline, Mona figured that she and Eudroch were standing in the middle of the outdoor parking lot belonging to an office building in Tysons Corner, just ten or so miles away from her apartment in Herndon.
She rubbed her forehead, trying to relieve the intense pain in her skull. Their journey had been almost instantaneous, but now lingered like a nightmare. The smoke wafting from Eudroch’s forearms told her that the trip had been real—as real as anything had been in the last few days.
She watched the reflection of the storm in the mirrored exterior of the office building. Just seconds ago, she had been a part of that same tempest and a part of Eudroch himself. She had experienced his urgency as they zipped from cloud to cloud, searching for some sign of Merrick. She still didn’t like Eudroch, but she was beginning to trust certain parts of his story. She believed now that he was genuinely afraid that a man named Ohman was planning to kill Merrick. She also believed that Eudroch was trying to save the world from something, although she could not comprehend the images in his mind that represented the danger.
Turning her gaze away from the building, she saw Eudroch reach out to touch one of the giant mirrored windows. He grimaced as if repulsed by something she couldn’t see.
“What is it?” she asked shakily.
“Absolutely nothing,” he whispered.
“Then, what’s wrong?”
He turned to look at her, his stare softer than it had been before. With a gasp, she realized that just as she had been one with him, he must have seen inside her as well during their journey with the storm. The thought that Eudroch knew more about her than she had even told Merrick made her feel sick in her stomach. Still, she held his g
aze, waiting for his reply.
“This is the one place in the storm that was…too perfect. It looked too much like a storm should. Ohman has figured a way to camouflage magic behind the walls of this building, but even he cannot exactly duplicate the chaos of one of Sigela’s storms. After so many years apart, I have finally found my brother. Soon, Merrick and his magic will be safe from the traitorous Ohman, and my brother and I shall be reunited.”
CHAPTER 12
THE TOWERING GREEN mountain ranges blurred to shades of deep aqua and stone gray beneath the overcast Highlands sky. Merrick had always dreamt of escaping to barren places such as this. The serene emptiness of the open spaces tugged at a desire that he did not fully understand but that tasted of freedom, potential, and the unknown.
He was filled with a mixture of wonderment and apprehension as he clambered up the rocky slope toward a wide ledge up high along the valley wall. The mist turned to rain as he ascended. He stumbled on a slick piece of moss and scraped his outstretched hand on a sharp rock as he broke his fall. Instead of getting up, he settled in to rest and immediately started to shiver. His old gut would have helped to insulate him from the cold and would have served as an energy reserve he could have lived off of for days. His new flat stomach looked good but was worthless in the middle of nowhere with no one to impress other than himself and the elements.
Despite his fatigue, he forced himself to stand and continued up the side of the valley. Halfway to the ledge, he saw an outcropping of large boulders to his right about fifty yards away. The three or four huge rocks were grouped together and topped off with a giant stone slab so that they resembled a large fist jutting out of the ground. He cautiously edged his way across the sloping ground, hoping to find shelter among the rocks from the increasing downpour. As he reached out to touch one of the giant boulders, his foot slipped on the edge of a smooth stone hidden beneath the mud. He tumbled down the rock-studded grassy slope toward the valley below. He landed close to the bottom, bruised and with bloody scrapes and stinging skin. Surrendering to his need for rest, he sat down and hugged his knees to his chest for warmth.
The Conservation of Magic Page 9