Blaze of Magic

by J. A. Culican

  He held his right hand before her, palm up, and waited.

  Bells looked at the forest of hands raised, all clamoring for her to give them the sword, and for a moment, time froze as the sword's tendrils in the back of her mind seemed to shimmer, vibrating. Her vision lost its focus, and she was struck with the urge to take the sword and either flee or to dominate the room and take over from these opportunistic parasites.

  In her head, she told the sword that she refused to dominate them—to effectively put herself in charge of the whole free world. The sword radiated disappointment, but that was the end of that.

  The doors were guarded. To get by them unharmed, she would have to turn the guards, at least, and yet turning people was the very reason she wanted to flee.

  For some reason, the sword found her dilemma amusing.

  In a flash of clarity, she realized she would much rather kill the assembled leaders than dominate them. Dead, they could be replaced. Controlled, they would not be able to lead their people effectively without her. If she wanted to rule the world, she already would be.

  With that realization, time seemed to speed back up to normal. She let out a frustrated breath and slowly stood from her chair, facing Mikah. "I'm sorry, First Councilor. You have been generous to me, certainly more than I deserve, and it pains me to say this to you—"

  "Will you comply with this council's decision, or not?"

  Bells kissed her teeth at him, making a tsk noise, then said, "I refuse to comply. The sword doesn't want me to, which is enough reason by itself, but also, I don't want to give you this weapon. Say what you want, but anyone who comes near me will face Shmsharatsh, and I can only hope such fools are replaced by someone with more sense and less greed."

  There was an uproar in the room as the most powerful people in the world all began to shout at once. Mikah and Jaekob both stood with the other Pures, but they looked more hurt than angry.

  The sword was suddenly in her hands, and she backed away from the table with the weapon between her and them.

  Tallon said, "You can't beat us all, little girl."

  Mikah and Jaekob backed away from her, eyes wide, and Jaekob's mouth hung open.

  Bells raised her voice, and it throbbed with power, echoing off the walls like a chorus of voices all speaking in harmony, while the other voices in the room sounded somehow small and weak. "I'm leaving now. Stop me if you dare. Mikah, I really am sorry for this. Someday, I hope you understand why I had to do this."

  She edged toward the door, keeping her back up against the wall and the sword between her and the other Pures.

  Tallon and the door guards drew their swords at the same time. Unlike the frightened door guards, however, Tallon approached her. Cautiously, he moved step-by-step, trying to get around to her right side to make room for anyone who chose to join him. No one moved, though there were many swords and daggers drawn.

  Bells felt the tendrils in her mind growing, attaching to her nervous system; she suddenly knew exactly how to wield the sword, suddenly had a quiet confidence that she could beat any man or woman in the room in a duel. It was a little exhilarating, no longer having to fear them. It also gave her the option she had wanted: to kill anyone who tried to stop her rather than taking them over.

  Tallon was the first to move in. Light as a feather, he bolted forward, leaping up onto the conference table as he headed toward her in a reckless, mad dash. He planted one foot down and jumped again, leaping toward her. He held his sword masterfully, over his head with the point aimed downward. It was meant to be a killing strike, an all-or-nothing attack.

  Bells saw in her head exactly how his attack would happen as though she'd been a swordfighter all her life, and she knocked his blade aside with ease as she turned to avoid the flying elf and his momentum. She grinned and—

  Something heavy and hard struck her with a mighty force, which sent her flying into the wall. She bounced off the wall and landed in a heap on the floor. One glance told her the hulking were representative had smashed into her in his half-wolf hybrid form, which towered above her by at least two feet and must have weighed well over three-hundred pounds. Blood trickled down her ribs, and she realized with shock that she had been cut to the bone by his claws. Only turning at the last instant had saved her from being gutted.

  She rolled over, narrowly avoiding Tallon's quick sword thrust, and she flipped up to her feet at the same time she swept her sword at them, level with the floor, forcing both men to jump back to avoid having their legs cut off below the knee. She stood facing them and growled. The sword wanted blood, but she silenced it. She needed her own thoughts at the moment.

  She said, "I'm very sorry but I can't let you do that. It's not what the sword wants, and since the sword is the only thing keeping everyone in this city alive against our enemies, I'm going to do what it tells me to. I'm done being nice with you all. If you approach me again, it will be last choice you ever make."

  The werewolf and the elf stepped away from one another, moving to flank her. The troll representative, Reed, jumped up onto the table as well. It bowed and creaked under his massive weight. He had cut off her middle escape route, and Bells sensed him gathering energy to fuel his renowned shadow magic.

  Still, Bells felt utterly confident. In an instant, several plans swept through her mind, each one deadly and effective. Then she froze and her eyes became unfocused. It took only a moment, but in that time, she had a lengthy conversation with Shmsharatsh, and she knew what to do. She didn't want to kill anyone, and the sword wasn't going to force her to.

  Before anyone could rush her again, Bells said, "Stop." Her voice echoed from the walls once again with the odd chorus-like effect. Then she spoke in her own voice, saying, "I don't want to kill anyone. I refuse to dominate anyone on the Council or the Crown, though it would be painfully easy to do. So, Tallon, I will surrender the Sword of Fire, but only to you. I believe you would focus all your energies on using this weapon to find a cure for the people it has touched who have dropped. But I remind you, the sword's purpose is to cause peace, not war. If you use it for any selfish reason, believe me when I tell you that I can take it back anytime I want, no matter where you hide or how far you run."

  Tallon's eyes went wide, but then the tip of his sword dropped a half an inch. With her new-found sword fighting experience, she saw how that took him out of a killing-attack stance. She knew what his answer would be.

  "Of course,” Tallon said. “My priority is the victims, always. The people are our responsibility. No one has been harmed, other than you, so I will leave it to Mikah to decide what to do with you, as a member of his house."

  She desperately did not want to give the sword to him, but its voice in her head told her it would be all right, that she should go ahead. Reluctantly, she lowered the sword and then handed it to Tallon, hilt-first. As soon as it left her hands, she felt something missing in her head, and the sword's voice was silenced. Maybe what was missing were the tendrils. That would explain the silence in her head.

  Jaekob took a step toward her and Tallon, but Mikah held him back with an arm across his chest. Bells ignored Jaekob, keeping her eyes on Mikah. She stepped toward him and met him in the middle.

  Sword in hand, Tallon stepped back from Bells with a grim expression on his face. He looked her in the eyes and nodded once. "Thank you. You've done the right thing, giving the sword to me. Imagine the good that can come from this now."

  Bells wanted to say the only good that would come from it was for Tallon's traitor son, but bit her tongue. The sword had told her not to worry. She said, "Use it well. Save the victims."

  Tallon turned and raised the sword enough for everyone in the room to see that he had it. "Now, you see, we—"

  He stopped, suddenly quiet, and his body went rigid. Bells thought she saw a purple aura all around him, very faintly, but when other people in the room gasped and several stepped away from Tallon, she realized it wasn't her imagination—and it wasn't his aura.

>   The glow brightened and began to shine from his eyes like spotlights aimed at the sword he stared at. He said, "Wait, what do you mean?" Then, he muttered under his breath as though talking to himself. The other people in the room looked concerned, and the werewolf backed up even farther away from him. Bells wondered what the sword was saying to him.

  Tallon kept mumbling and the light grew brighter and brighter. It looked like the light was coming through his teeth, his nose, even out his ears. Brighter still, his skin seemed to bubble and boil away in spots to let the light out. Even Bells found herself backing away from him.

  Tallon stopped his muttering and looked up with a confused expression on his face. He said out loud, clear as day, "Yes, but why?"

  Suddenly, the light streaming out of him and making his skin glow turned a sharper shade of purple. It looked as though it were devouring him from the inside out, continually glowing brighter.

  Bells let out a surprised squeak, staring at Tallon in horror.

  His skin formed cracks like shattered glass, the light streaming out from them. Then more cracks, and more still. He screamed, but the agonized sound stopped abruptly, just as the purple light did. When the light vanished, every part of Tallon was coal-black, even his clothes. The arm holding the sword slid off, noiselessly. When it hit the floor, the sword bounced to the middle of the room, but Tallon's arm exploded into a cloud of dust. The rest of him seemed to simply collapse in on itself, crashing into the floor in a dust cloud. All that remained of him was a pile of ash.

  Bells looked around the room, but no one made any move toward the sword, and several were backing away from it, putting their backs up against the nearest wall.

  All eyes turned toward her again. Damn that sword.

  Bells could have heard a pin drop in the utter silence that followed Tallon's disintegration, everyone staring either at the pile of ashes that had once been the man or at Bells.

  In that silence, Bells realized as if from a sudden epiphany that it was quiet in her head, as well. There were no other voices echoing in there, just her own thoughts swimming around all alone. And those thoughts were suddenly clearer. It was though they had been edged with static that she hadn't even noticed until that moment. Overwhelming relief washed over her. Just as suddenly, she remembered everything that had occurred in the last few weeks. Her memories of those events were more vivid now than at the time they happened. Free of the sword's influence, her own memories rose to the forefront.

  Along with her own memories, however, the voices of every single soul she had turned with the sword came flooding back to her. It was enough to make her eyes well up, and she wiped them on her sleeve.

  Someone cleared their throat, a short elf whom she recognized as Tallon's assistant. Well, she had assumed he was the assistant. Clearing his throat again, he said, "It seems I now represent the elves for the Crown of Pures. I'd like to officially propose that we give the artifact to Jaekob for safekeeping. He—"

  Jaekob snarled, "You've got to be kidding. No way."

  The elf said, "I'm sorry, it's just that you held it before without... side effects. At least with you, we would know it was safe and sound, meaning the rest of us would be safe, as well."

  Mikah said, "I'm not putting my son at risk. I refuse to allow this, votes be damned."

  Jaekob shook his head. "With all respect to the Crown, we can't simply assume it wouldn't affect me the same way. Bells had it in her position for quite a while."

  The elf shrugged. "And?"

  "And, I think it somehow bonded with her. I don't believe anyone can pick it up, now, except for her. I never liked this sword, but I would take it if I thought it would help. I don't think it would, not anymore. There's very little point in me dying also, just to find out whether I'm right."

  "I agree, but that leaves us with a dilemma,” Mikah said. “Who should get the sword, now, and how?" He smiled and looked at Bells. "Obviously, I think it should go to the one person who has demonstrated the ability to carry this thing, but who, at the same time, has proved she won't use it to seek power over others."

  Bells froze, startled—not by his suggestion, but by her immediate strong reaction against it. She didn't want it. "Thanks, but there's no way in Creation anyone can convince me to pick that sword up again, not until I have had time to think on it."

  Jaekob cocked his head and looked confused. Bells considered telling them about the sword's side effects, but that might only create more distrust. They might not believe she had only just realized the sword's effects on the wielder... No, she'd just talk to the new bearer when someone picked it up, if they lived. She'd explain it to Jaekob later, too.

  Mikah took a half-step toward her and raised his hand, saying, "Bells, may I—"

  Jaekob put his hand on Mikah's arm, silencing him. "Bells, may I please speak with you out in the hallway?"

  She took a deep breath. Well, she was going to stand her ground. He wouldn't be able to convince her and talking to her in private wasn't going to change her mind. "Of course," she said, bowing her head. She hoped that came across as merely professional to everyone else in the room. Her instincts told her not to bring attention to her personal relationship with the dragon heir at the moment.

  The door Guardians parted, giving her plenty of room as she left the conference chamber.

  In the hallway, Bells looked both ways to make sure there was no one around. To her surprise, though, Jaekob didn't stop in the alcove outside the conference room, but led her down the hallway. They passed one door, then another. At the third door, he opened it and held it for her. "After you," he said.

  Once they were inside and the door was closed, she found herself in a smaller version of the room they just left. How many conference rooms had some rich human needed? Another mystery she would never solve.

  She turned to Jaekob. "Okay, now you have me all alone. What did you have in mind?" She thought back to that morning, waking up with his arm around her, the memory coming unbidden. The odds that that was what he had in mind were just about zero, sadly.

  He smiled and leaned up against the table, patting the spot next to him. She turned around and put her hands on it to lift herself up, and sat shoulder-to-shoulder with him.

  "So, I understand you have some reservations," he said as he slid his arm around her waist. "I don't know if you're afraid it'll disintegrate you like it did the elf, but I would bet my own life you'd be safe. I believe in you, even if you don't believe in yourself."

  She really wanted to be mad at him or to argue that she did believe in herself, but then doubt crept in. Why didn't she want the sword back? Plus, he had such enthusiasm when he told her he believed in her that it made her want to believe in herself. But no, she decided, that wasn't the reason she didn't want it.

  "The thought crossed my mind,” she said. “It sure didn't look pleasant, watching him burn from the inside out. I think, though, that the real reason is just that I don't want the responsibility anymore. No one trusted me with the sword even after I saved the city again and again. Everyone wanted it for themselves, right up until it might cost them something to have that power in their hands, and now they want me to take it back? I'm tired of how everyone tries to manipulate me into doing what they want with it. Everyone but you. And Mikah, I suppose."

  His hand dug into her hip as he gave her a brief squeeze. It was reassuring, and she rested her head on his shoulder for a moment.

  "If you won't take it back,” Jaekob said, “we still need to figure out what to do with the sword. We can't just leave it lying on the conference room floor. Any ideas?"

  She grinned. "Maybe we should just give it to the Black Khan and roast some of those delightful marshmallows over his flames when it obliterates him." She was only half joking. After all, the marshmallows ran out a long time ago, being a favorite pixie treat. Pixies got into everything, like rodents, and a swarm could pick a convenience store to the bones in minutes.

  Jaekob laughed out loud, his eyes spa
rkling. "Ha! Give it to the khan. That's hilarious. And it's almost a good idea, except that bursting into flames is not what happened the last time the Black Khan had the sword. Actually, I'm a little afraid that the only reason the sword acted this way today is that it was in your possession for so long."

  She hadn't thought of that. It was an interesting idea. Speaking slowly as she mulled the idea, she said, "That's... an interesting possibility. I wonder, did the sword pick up some of my traits while I picked up some of its? Maybe Tallon was just too different from me for the sword's energy to... I don't know, harmonize? I'm not sure that's the right word, but that's how it felt when I first picked it up."

  "Maybe. You would know better than I. But whether or not that's why Tallon went out in a blaze of glory, it seems likely that someone will be able to pick it up eventually. I really do hope they have to be like you for that to work, though. If that's the case, we would all be much safer." He smiled again.

  Bells cocked her head, then leaned it on his shoulder again, this time keeping it there. "Why do you say that? You think the sword likes really short women who feel like they're totally in over their heads?"

  He snorted and shook for a moment, jostling her head. "Is that really how you see yourself? And yet, you survived this far and you've done incredible things, things no one else in the world has done. Everywhere we go, you get people to go out of their way to help you—even determined cynics like me. Heck, even Mikah, and you have no idea how rare that is."

  "Thanks?" she said, her voice rising up at the end as if in question. What other response was there? He was describing somebody completely different. She, the real Bells, had just been along for the ride while he led them into doing things no one else had done, things she never would have done without him.