The Conservation of Magic

by Michael W. Layne

  CHAPTER 52

  MERRICK LANDED abruptly on a floor of stone that was both hard and which seemed to mold to the form of his body, cushioning his fall. When he finally opened his eyes, he was lying flat on his back, staring up at a small circle of sky that was visible far above him through the opening in the mouth of the volcano. The sky was pale blue, and he knew that a new day was dawning outside.

  He strained to sit up, and he felt the ravages of premature age envelop his body as if he were a drained battery that had almost given its last iota of power.

  Feeling around the ground next to him, he found his wooden baton with the imperfect sphere of divinium still attached to one end. Even though he had precious little internal magic left, holding his makeshift staff filled him with renewed confidence. He had almost arrived at his goal, and once Terrada revealed his full and true creation name, he hoped that he would find renewed power to destroy Eudroch.

  The walls of the cavern in which he stood were faintly illuminated with a pale blue hue, revealing that the cave itself was circular and close to the size of a football field in diameter. It was as if he stood inside the hollowed interior of the volcano, although there was no lava or fire to be seen.

  In the middle of the cavern crouched a lone figure, but as Merrick approached, he saw that it was nothing more than a pile of rocks in the shape of a man who was kneeling and holding a cauldron filled with a silvery liquid.

  Merrick looked up again at the patch of pale sky that bathed him and the figure in early morning light. Despite being inside a volcano, it was almost cool and pleasant here, as if he were inside a protective casing of stone—what Merrick imagined to be Terrada’s heart.

  As he stood still, he sensed a low vibration beneath his feet, almost too deep for even his ears to detect. He walked across the floor until he reached the cavern wall. Placing his hands on the stone, he could feel the vibration clearly. It was as if the cave itself were alive and speaking to him.

  He wondered if this was where everything had begun—where magic had first sparked—where maybe even Abred had been born. He had no way of knowing, but he knew for certain that he stood on sacred ground.

  It was also possible that Ohman had been here before when he had rescued Merrick and Eudroch from the Earth Queen so many years ago. He could even be standing in the very place where he was born.

  Merrick closed his eyes, his hands still placed flat against the cavern wall, as he tried to embrace the vibration. He searched for any sign of familiarity, but found none as he did his best to match the vibration with his own vocal chords. The tone was so low that he doubted his ability to reproduce such deep notes, but he tried. Gradually, his voice deepened, then deepened further, until, node-by-node, he harmonized with the vibration.

  As his body hummed, in unison with the very sound of the volcano, he could tell that this was a calling tone for magic that was more intense and pure than any he had ever imagined existed. He felt as one with the cave, with Terrada, and with the world. The sound was more than a word in the Earth Dragon’s tongue—it was the magic of the earth, maybe even the calling tone of the mighty Terrada herself.

  His voice wavered slightly above and below the pitch, as he tried to stay as one with the tone. He struggled to maintain the primordial chord, while he ever so gently inserted a separate note—a word of command, as he asked Terrada for his creation name.

  Suddenly, his head filled with strange but familiar sounds of the earth, as words from Terrada’s tongue sped through his brain, faster than he could hope to comprehend. His name could have been one of the words ricocheting through his mind, but he had no way of knowing. Soon, he felt as if his brain could hold no more, and he reluctantly severed the connection.

  He took several long, deep breaths before stumbling back to the center of the cave, trying his hardest to contain the words Terrada had given him and to remember the calling tone they had shared.

  Merrick returned to the stone figure. He sank to his knees next to it and looked up at its raw chiseled face. He was so close, but Terrada had still not told him his creation name.

  “I’m here!” he yelled. “I came here, just like you asked.”

  His words echoed back to him in the silence.

  “What is my name?” he shouted.

  Again, his own words bounced off the walls and echoed back to him, as if Terrada were ignoring him.

  He bowed his head and trembled as he tried to regulate his breathing.

  “Why bring me here to fight my brother if you won’t tell me my creation name?” he whispered.

  Silence…and then the low vibration grew louder and more intense. What was once almost too low to be heard was now so loud that it bored into his skull. He stood up and grabbed his head with his hands, but here was no escape from the noise.

  Merrick glanced at the silver liquid inside the stone cauldron and saw the reflection of his face—now that of an old man with white hair and deep wrinkles. He looked more like Ohman than himself, but behind the mask of age, it was still his eyes that stared back at him as they had done so many times before.

  As he looked into his own eyes, he started to drift into a trance-like state, mesmerized. The old man’s face stared back passively, showing no hint of emotion or passion.

  Without thinking about it, he let loose a rage that had been building in him for longer than he could remember—perhaps for his entire life. His face contorted and his lips curled back. He was angry at himself and angry at the world. His eyes took on a wild, chaotic look, and he stared at the madman that kept locked away inside of him.

  For the first time in his life, he realized that the madman, of whom he was both afraid and ashamed, was still an integral part of who he was.

  With the cacophony still filling the cavern, he placed his hand into the silvery liquid and moved it around, causing his crazed reflection to disappear in thick swirls.

  When he tried to pull his hand out of the liquid again, however, it would not come. Suddenly, the stone figure came to life and grew until it loomed over him. Before Merrick could utter a word, the figure fell down on top of him and engulfed Merrick in complete and utter darkness.

  When he opened his eyes, he was no longer in the cave at all, but standing in the middle of a great field of tall grass, on a bright, sunny morning. The air was fresh and cool, and he could feel that his body was healed. He felt his smooth face with his hands and knew that if he had a mirror, he would see that he was restored and young once again.

  He was elated that he was free of the volcano and given the chance to walk about in the cool spring morning. His happiness swelled inside his chest, and he started to run through the field, letting his hands brush across the tops of the tall blades of grass as he went.

  This was what life was supposed to be like—carefree, cool, and free.

  As he continued running through the grass, he noticed a small shadow on the ground that looked like it belonged to a bee flitting somewhere about. As he focused on the tiny dark spot, the single shadow turned into hundreds and then thousands of them until he found himself in the middle of a swarm of bees.

  His carefree running turned to panicked flight as he desperately tried to escape the swarm that followed his every move. He instinctively covered his face, trying to fend off the stings that never came, as he kept running.

  Eventually, his muscles grew sore, and he could hear his heart pounding as if it were ready to burst out of his chest. He tried his hardest to continue, but he had to stop to catch his breath. When he did, the swarm stopped moving as well.

  And still, the bees did not sting him.

  Merrick listened closely as he calmed his breathing. All he could hear was the gentle rustling of the grass blowing in the breeze. He looked down at his feet and on his legs. The bee shadows were still there, flitting all around him and even on him, but when he looked up, there were no bees anywhere to be found.

  He plucked one of the long blades of grass and held it in his hand. At one end
of the blade was a small pod, about the size of…a bee.

  He laughed out loud at his own stupidity and fear. There were never any bees at all. He had only imagined the danger. The grass had simply evolved pods to cast shadows on the ground as a means to protect itself from creatures who would otherwise trample over top of it.

  He smiled and looked out across the sunny field. When he looked back down at the grass, he was no longer in the field, but instead he was sitting on an old wooden porch—this time in the middle of a hot summer day. The only sound to be heard was the rhythmic squeaking of an empty porch swing that swayed back and forth.

  Merrick looked down and saw the back of a little boy with almost white-blonde hair, sitting on the steps of the porch, looking out at a field of grass. As he approached the boy, the child craned his neck to look up at Merrick. The little boy looked perfect in his innocence, and time had not yet ravaged his body or his mind. His skin was perfectly smooth and the color under his eyes was the same as the rest of his perfectly toned skin.

  The child raised his hand and held out one of the long blades of grass with the pod at its tip. Merrick looked at the piece of grass and then at the boy’s face. His eyes were familiar, like something Merrick had forgotten from a long time ago.

  He closed his own eyes, to force out the tears that were forming under his lids. When he opened them again, he was back inside Terrada’s cavern, lying on his back on the rock floor, next to the stone figure that was still holding its cauldron.

  Merrick rose to his feet quickly. He didn’t dare look into the silvery liquid again, but he knew that he had somehow regained at least some small part of his internal magic. His body was still aged considerably, but he no longer felt like an old man.

  Terrada had given him a gift after all.

  “I have to go now,” Merrick said in a calm voice. “Whether I die or not, I must face my brother and finish what was started before we were even born.”

  As he walked toward the cavern wall, preparing to climb as best as he could, he saw that crude steps had been cut into the stone of the mountain, spiraling all the way up to the opening at the mouth of the volcano.

  The calmness from his dreams remained as he began his ascent. He would not face Eudroch to avenge Ohman or Fenton’s death—nor would he fight him for Cara, Mona, Balach, or even to save the world.

  He was going to do destroy Eudroch to complete himself—to discover what he was really made of—to discover who he was. He finally accepted that Terrada would not give him his creation name. He had to remember it on his own.

  As he continued his climb, his pulse raced from the physical exertion, even though inside, he still felt calm and focused. As he neared the top, he heard loud thunderclaps, and he saw the circle of pale blue light darken to a deep azure.

  When he reached the opening in the top of the volcano, he felt electricity in the air and he felt the presence of Fire Magic. Before he could take the final step out of the volcano, a strong hand reached in and grabbed him by his neck. With inhuman strength, he was pulled out into the open air, and his divinium shaft was torn from his hands and thrown onto the ground. Merrick barely had time to comprehend what was happening to him before being flung high into the air and crashing into the stone lip that encircled the top of the volcano.

  He sat—stunned—trying to clear his head. When he could focus again, he saw his own face looking down on him, curled and bent with rage. But this time, the image that confronted him was not an illusion. This time, the snarling face that looked back at him belonged to his brother, Eudroch.

  Eudroch stood over Merrick, with his legs planted firmly at shoulder-width, his left fist balled so tight that his knuckles were white, and his right hand holding a three-pronged spear that glowed as if it were made of pure lava.

  Merrick searched his brother’s expression for any traces of kindness and saw none. This is what he would have become if he had given in to Sigela and followed the road of pure passion.

  He turned his eyes away from Eudroch and looked down at the shadow that his brother cast on the ground. Even though he was about to die, he remembered the shadows of the bees from his dream, and he started to laugh.

  He stopped laughing when Mona came up from behind Eudroch and put her arms around his neck—not to strangle him as an enemy, but to caress him like a lover. Mona glanced down at Merrick as she leaned over and whispered in Eudroch’s ear. She looked back at Merrick with a sly smile on her face as if she were entranced.

  When she backed away, Eudroch reached down and pulled him to his feet. He had been prepared for death, but he had not been ready for this.

  #

  Sigela had been the first to break the covenant so many years ago when she had allowed the Earth Queen and her lover to visit the island. Sigela’s act had entitled the other dragons to break the covenant as well. Terrada had responded by bringing Ohman to Annoon so that he could save the two newborns from their mother. Ohman had been the only Drayoom Terrada had brought to Annoon, until now. This time, she had broken the agreement between her siblings and had invited Merrick to their sacred home.

  Even with all the names that Terrada had bestowed over the years, she could still clearly recall Merrick’s birth and that of his twin. Even at their conception, Terrada had known that the brothers would grow to fulfill the prophecy of Sigela’s return. Even in their mother’s womb, she had had sensed Merrick’s purity and Eudroch’s hatred.

  If only Terrada could tell Merrick his creation name again—but that was one covenant that none of the four dragons dared to break. Not even Sigela would tell a Drayoom his creation name twice, despite what she had promised Merrick on his journey.

  Of course, in Merrick’s case, neither Sigela nor Terrada knew his full creation name anyway. Eudroch had long since realized his true nature, and Merrick had to do the same on his own. Terrada and her sister had each given him a part of who he was, but neither dragon knew what the other had whispered into the Merrick’s ear.

  The prophecy stated that the two Sons of Earth and Fire would become as one and would herald the return of Sigela to the earth. If that was what had to happen, then it would come to pass. It was as simple as that. The world had survived Sigela’s presence once, and it would do so again.

  Yes, the planet would survive, as would the dragons, but Terrada feared that the Drayoom and the humans would not be so fortunate.

  CHAPTER 53

  EUDROCH PULLED MERRICK to his feet, then backed away. Merrick could see that both Mona and the Earth Queen were also there. The Queen seemed to be holding her breath as she stared expectantly at the dark clouds gathering overhead. Mona stood behind Eudroch, pressed close to him with her mouth slightly parted as if she were waiting to whisper something to her lover.

  Merrick tried to focus on Eudroch, but he could only think about Sigela’s words and how true they seemed at the moment. The Fire Dragon had not lied about Mona’s betrayal, and Balach’s name was the only explanation he could think of that made sense.

  For only a split second, Eudroch seemed surprised when Mona stepped out from behind him. She walked toward Merrick, a divinium cube at her side and an enunciator collar around her neck. She stood in front of Merrick, averting her eyes as she quietly spoke.

  “I can’t help how I feel about your brother. I finally know the meaning of true love, and he loves me too. He wants to take care of me—to make life better for me—to make it better for al of us. He even promised that you and he could rule by each other’s side. The Sons of Earth and Fire, he called you. He said that we could all be together after this is over.”

  She looked up and touched his arm.

  “But you have to help him. I believe in him, Merrick. I wish you would, too.”

  Merrick allowed himself to peer deeply into her eyes, hopeful that he would see some piece of her that still loved him—a part that was still fighting the power of Balach’s name.

  “I want us to work together, just like we did back in Old Town. Remembe
r how I trusted you and how you protected me when I was in trouble?”

  The alley back home was where everything had started, but he certainly wouldn’t typify what had happened there as working together. If anything, he had almost killed her instead of protecting her.

  “Now it’s my turn to help you, and it’s your turn to trust me.”

  With a wistful smile, she turned and walked away. Eudroch crossed his arms in front of his chest and waited for Merrick’s reply.

  Merrick opened his mouth to speak, but he could find no words. He only felt tired. Very tired.

  He wasn’t sure why Mona had brought up the attack in the alley, but it made him flash back to that evening not that long ago and to the memory of the pain he had caused her.

  It made him wince, even now, to think about it.

  He had made a promise that night to never hurt her again, and no matter what was about to happen between him and his brother, he would stay true to that vow—even if she was on his brother’s side and not his.

  He wouldn’t hurt her, but he wouldn’t surrender to Eudroch either. Saving the world was more important than his life, and he would do all that he could to stop Eudroch from doing the unthinkable.

  That meant that he needed every last bit of his power, including the magic he had been using to maintain his new and improved body. He felt stronger than he had before entering the volcano, but one glance at the youthful Eudroch reminded him that he was still much older than he should be.

  He closed his eyes and focused on how he used to look before discovering his power. In an instant, his stomach expanded and his posture sagged as his muscularity left him. Strands of his hair flew away, caught up in the mounting winds from the approaching storm. Despite how he probably appeared, he was almost glad to have his old imperfections again.

  His regular body wasn’t perfect, but at least it was honest and genuine, and it was his. The only thing he decided to keep was his perfect vision, as he needed to see for the fight ahead.