by R. G. Thomas
“No!” Thaddeus waved his arms to get the Bearagon’s attention. “Leave him alone! It’s me you want. I’m right here.”
“Thaddeus, what are you doing?” Mr. Elder whispered.
Andy giggled. “Its breath tickles.”
Thaddeus watched, his mouth hanging open, as Andy slowly got to his feet. Smiling at Thaddeus, Andy took a step backward and bumped into the Bearagon’s nose. “Oopsie.”
“Andy, stop,” Thaddeus said, confused and frightened. Beyond the Bearagon, he could see that Teofil, Astrid, and Dulindir had all moved closer so they were just a few yards away.
Andy stared at Thaddeus with wide eyes. “It’s right behind me, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Thaddeus replied. “Don’t move.”
“How about to here?” Andy stepped to the right, and the Bearagon moved up beside him. It used its broad nose to nudge Andy’s arm up and slid in underneath. Andy smiled at Thaddeus as he scratched the Bearagon’s neck.
“Lucian,” Thaddeus whispered.
“Finally, I get to properly introduce myself.”
The response came not from Andy, but from Thaddeus’s left. He turned his head and stared at Mr. Elder’s smiling face.
Chapter TWENTY-TWO
THADDEUS’S MIND was blank. There were no words, spells, or actions he could think to do. All he could do was stare. Mr. Elder, the teacher he had come to trust and confide in, was actually his evil uncle Lucian. How had this happened? Why hadn’t his father known about this?
“Thaddeus?” Teofil called, still standing several yards away. “What’s going on?”
A hot wave of pain from the back of his neck drove Thaddeus to his knees. He heard Teofil practically scream his name. The sound of it triggered a flash fire of anger, and the once whispery voice in the back of his mind seemed to feed off it as it practically shouted, Now Teofil wants to talk with you? Now you’re good enough to participate in their secret group quest?
The Bearagon gave a roar of surprise and pain—a stone launched from Astrid’s slingshot, most likely—and a scuffle quickly followed. But Thaddeus’s agony and anger was so great he could not lift his head. He knelt in the grass with his chin on his chest, and a hand clamped over the back of his neck. It seemed as if the cyst moved beneath his palm. But as he took shallow, panting breaths, he told himself that had to have been his imagination. Emotions churned and warred within him: he wanted, needed, to help Teofil, but that dark voice overrode every positive emotion, replacing them with anger, suspicion, and a bitter sense of betrayal. The voice shifted from shouting back to the familiar sly and sinister tone as it suggested that maybe, since Teofil and the others had left him out of their plans this far, Thaddeus was no longer responsible for their safety. This fight no longer belonged to him. Maybe it’s best, the voice suggested, if you stayed out of it.
In moments the fight was over, and everything went quiet. Someone gently touched his shoulder. The torment Thaddeus felt from the cyst abated, and he took a deep, grateful breath. Looking up, he found Mr. Elder smiling down at him. No, not Mr. Elder, Lucian. This was Lucian, his uncle and the man his father had been running from all these years.
So why didn’t Thaddeus feel threatened by him? Why didn’t he feel like he should run away or try to fight him?
He’s not going to hurt you, or you would be dead by now.
“Come, Thaddeus,” Lucian said, his voice quiet and kind. “Get on your feet now.”
Thaddeus stood. His movements felt slow and dreamlike, all of it enhanced by the moonlight and the tall fortresslike walls of the Tangle. Andy and the Bearagon stood behind Lucian, and when Thaddeus looked around, he discovered that vines and other plant tendrils had Teofil, Astrid, and Dulindir wrapped up tight.
“Thaddeus, help us,” Astrid whispered. “Why won’t you help us?”
“He’s been bewitched,” Dulindir said. “By that thing that’s been pretending to be his friend.”
“That’s enough out of you, elf,” Lucian said. He nodded, and the vines around Dulindir shifted and slithered across his face, effectively gagging him.
“How did you do that?” Thaddeus asked.
Lucian smiled. “A little bit of help.”
“Thaddeus, don’t listen to him,” Teofil said. “You’re not like this. Come back to us. Come back to me. Please.”
Lucian sighed and gestured toward Teofil. Vines gagged him as well, and Lucian raised his eyebrows as he looked at Astrid. “Well? Should I do the same for you?”
She glared at him and shook her head.
“Smart girl. For a gnome.” He returned his attention to Thaddeus. “I’m sorry for all of this subterfuge, but I had to allow you to get to know me before I could reveal my identity.”
“Lies,” Thaddeus said through lips that felt numb. “My whole life has been one long lie.”
“But this time, they were for good reason,” Lucian said.
A rustle of leaves and foliage drew Thaddeus’s attention, and he gasped when a tall man with a broad chest stepped out of the Tangle close to where they stood. It was Edgar Marcet, the owner of Superstition Sporting Goods, where both Thaddeus and his father had worked over the summer.
“Edgar?” Thaddeus said.
“Ah, here you are, Azzo,” Lucian said with a smile. “And now we’re all here together. How nice.”
“You’re Azzo Eberhard,” Thaddeus said. “But why didn’t my father recognize you?”
Azzo grinned. “I changed my appearance. I like this one much better.”
“Yes, Azzo assumed a new identity,” Lucian said, smiling at Thaddeus. “I did not. So I’ve been very careful to keep out of your father’s sight.”
“How…?” Thaddeus started, but there were too many questions, and they seemed to be clogging up his brain as he looked at each of them in turn. His brain felt overwhelmed, and all he could do was repeat the word a second time. “How?”
“Well, dear Thaddeus, I’ve been searching for you for a long time. When Azzo and Logan found you and your father in Superstition, I left the house where we’d been staying in Northglenn and moved here to the Tangle for a few weeks to spend some time with our short and hairy resident who lacks conversational skills. It felt like things were aligning so that I would be able to find not only the two of you, but your mother as well. Claire had been missing for so long, and no one had any idea where to look.” He grinned. “At least not until you released her from her slumber.”
“I didn’t know what I was doing,” Thaddeus said. “I was following Leopold’s orders.”
“Of course you were. You’ve always been such a good and obedient young man, despite whatever influence my little brother might have had on you. Which leads me to the reason I’ve been looking for you for so very long. I don’t know what Nathan has told you about your heritage, but I’m sure it’s been a smorgasbord of lies and half-truths. So now that we’re here together and we all know who we are, how about I tell you the truth?”
“I know the truth,” Thaddeus said, and saying the words aloud seemed to clear away some of his dazed feeling and free up his muscle control so he could take a step back. “You’ve been looking for my dad and me all these years to hurt us. And my mom too.”
“Well, that’s not entirely true.” Lucian put his hands on his hips and looked up at the moon, collecting his thoughts.
“Boring,” Andy said, then sighed and dropped to a cross-legged position on the ground. The Bearagon lay down beside him with a grunt and a heavy sigh.
“You can hold out a little while longer,” Lucian said without looking in Andy’s direction. “This is what we’ve been working toward all these months.” He smiled at Thaddeus. “Would you at least hear me out? What do you say?”
Although the voice in the back of his mind still griped quietly, Thaddeus’s thinking was clearer now. He should not be listening to Lucian; he should be fighting him. But even though his thoughts were clearing up, the magic inside of him felt stale and powerless. Until he could d
efend himself properly against Lucian, he needed to keep his distance and stay attentive. He took another step back. “I don’t want to hear what you have to say. I feel strange. I’m not even sure if all of this is real right now. I feel like I’m in a dream.”
“That might be the nacht macabre,” Lucian said.
“Nacht macabre? Where?” Thaddeus looked around for the small, vining stems and dark velvet blooms of the plants they had come to know and fear so well in Iron Gulch. It was a deceptively innocent-looking plant that not only attracted creatures with corrupt intentions to the spots where it flourished, but it strengthened their black magic and suppressed the purer magic of those who might provide opposition.
“The large bushes all around this clearing are a variety of nacht macabre. Your magic won’t work here because your father never taught you how to perform the stronger—some might say darker—variations of spells. He only taught you the pure forms of magic, and so you’re now at a disadvantage.” Lucian smiled without humor. “One of Nathan’s larger mistakes. But easily rectified, with some additional training.”
Thaddeus looked around and noted the large blooms on the fat, round bushes all around the clearing. The flowers were open in the moonlight, and what he had once thought beautiful now looked deadly. But he couldn’t seem to find the urgency within the realization, nor did he have the energy to run or fight. Was it the nacht macabre keeping him there, or something else?
“Your father has told you many lies over the years,” Lucian continued. “The most recent was about his employment.” He gave a derisive snort. “A refuse collector. You and your mother deserve better than that. And with all the lies Nathan has told—lies you only learned about because of Isadora—you no longer know what you can or can’t believe, isn’t that right?”
He’s always been a liar. He doesn’t know anything else. Thaddeus resisted the impulse to listen to that inner voice and said, “He had his reasons. He was protecting me.”
Lucian frowned. “That sounds like a tired old excuse you’re used to saying. And you deserve to know the truth. All of it. Even about your parentage.”
Thaddeus wanted to take another step back, but he couldn’t make his feet move. He clenched his fists and glared at Lucian. “You were married to my mother, and you were cruel to her. But I know you’re not my father. He’s my father.”
“Are you really so sure about that?” Lucian smiled. “Your mother never told Nathan that she was already pregnant before they….” A shadow of anger and distaste passed over Lucian’s face, but a moment later, it was gone and his smile returned. “Well, before they engaged in their indiscretions, shall we say? I was married to your mother for many years, you know. And during those years we tried several times to have children. Alas, each pregnancy ended early. When she became pregnant again, I quietly prepared myself for the loss with which we’d both become so familiar. Yet this time, the child thrived within her. We were cautiously optimistic as the weeks dragged on and the months slowly passed. I feared each day would bring an abrupt end to our happiness. But that was not to be. She delivered at nine months to the day, and when you were born, your mother and I both wept with joy. After all of the unfortunate losses we had suffered during her previous pregnancies, we finally had a son.” He paused to draw a deep breath and smile. “And despite what your father or mother may have told you, I am your true father, Thaddeus.”
“No.” Thaddeus shook his head slowly and tried to take another step back, but he could no longer move. The voice in his mind had fallen silent and watchful, and the cyst pulsed in a steady rhythm, less painful but still aching.
“Oh yes, it’s true. And it’s also why I came to the village that day with dear, departed Isadora, loyal Azzo, and this amazing beast.” He gestured toward the Bearagon that lay on the soft grass with its head resting on its large paws. “We came to take you back so we could raise you as you were meant to have been raised. We wanted to give you the love and magical schooling that you deserved. But Nathan and your mother had other ideas. They wanted to deny you your magical heritage. They wanted to take you away from the village and raise you out in the world without any mention of magic or your abilities. They wanted you to blend into a society of nonmagical humans and be like everyone else.”
It’s true, you know it’s true.
But Thaddeus frowned and shook his head. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would they do that? They loved the village.”
“Ah, that may be what they told you,” Lucian said. “More lies.”
Teofil and Dulindir both struggled to speak, but the vines tightened even more around their mouths. Thaddeus noticed tears gleaming in the moonlight on Teofil’s cheeks. He wanted to care that Teofil might be hurting, but that voice inside of him seemed to be blocking his emotions. Turning back to Lucian, he asked, “What is this place? What is the Tangle?”
“It’s a very special place that is strong with magic. It rests atop what we in the magical community call the Deslidelindre Junction. There’s no other place like it on earth.”
“What makes it so special?” Thaddeus asked.
“The underground spring, for one,” Lucian replied. “As well as the history of this place. Several wars within the magical community were fought here, and much magical blood was spilled. This place has retained its own sense of history and gathered the essence of different magical races together.”
“You make it sound like it’s alive.” Thaddeus looked at the tall, nearly impenetrable trees and plants all around them. “Is that how the plants grew so tall and thick?”
“Partly,” Lucian said. “And other reasons. You’ve already met one of them.” He gestured over Thaddeus’s shoulder, and Thaddeus turned to see the short and strange man standing not too far away.
“Gah!” the man said.
Lucian smiled. “You’ll have to forgive him for his poor communication skills. He’s lived here all alone for many years, tending to the Tangle.”
At that moment, the Bearagon sprang to its feet and looked off across the clearing. It lowered its head and growled low in its throat. Thaddeus followed the beast’s line of sight, past Teofil, Astrid, and Dulindir, who all struggled to see what was happening behind them. The vines had bound their legs tight together, however, and it was difficult for them to move.
On the far edge of the Tangle, five figures stepped into the clearing from different spots in the overgrowth. Thaddeus gasped when he recognized them all: his father, his mother, Miriam, Rudyard, and Vivienne.
“Thaddeus!” his father shouted.
“Mum! Dad!” Astrid called, twisting her head back and forth to try and see her parents. She attempted to resist the creeping vines, but they were too strong and quickly gagged her.
Thaddeus knew he should want to go to his parents. He should call out to them for help. But he couldn’t move or speak.
They are here to tell you more lies. You don’t need them. You have us now.
Maybe the voice he heard was right, and he really didn’t want to be with them any longer. Maybe all the lies had finally added up, and Thaddeus needed to turn away from them both. They could go on and live their lives among the un-gifteds, while Thaddeus stayed with Lucian and learned the full spectrum of magic. As he looked at his father, a sudden surge of anger burned to life within him, and as the voice shouted the words in his head, Thaddeus shouted them aloud: “Stay away from me! You’re not my father!”
“Oh my,” Lucian called with a laugh. “It appears you’ve told one too many lies this time, Nathan.”
“Let them go, Lucian,” Nathan said. “This is between you and I.”
“You and me,” Lucian corrected, and then under his breath, he added, “Garbage collector is so fitting.”
“Thaddeus,” his mother said as she and the other four spread out along the edge of the Tangle, putting more distance between themselves. “You know that’s not how you really feel. We are your true parents. Whatever Lucian has been telling you is not the truth.”
“It’s so easy for you both to lie,” Lucian said, then curled his lip in a vicious-looking sneer. “Will it be easy for you to die as well?”
Chaos erupted within the clearing. Everyone shouted and ran as they cast spells. Teofil, Astrid, and Dulindir tipped themselves over and lay writhing on the ground, out of the line of fire as they struggled to get free of the vines. Thaddeus stepped over the three of them and extended his arms out from his sides. Small flames flickered to life in his upturned palms, and he smiled as he brought his hands together hard. Back in Iron Gulch, Leopold had called this spell the Thunderclap, and it burst out from Thaddeus in a shockwave of pure energy. The blast knocked the five new arrivals off their feet and blew them backward. The trees on the other side of the Tangle shook from the force of it, and the kickback pushed Thaddeus down onto his butt.
“Well done, Thaddeus!” Lucian called and laughed with wicked glee. “By Flora, what a gift you have!”
Lucian then rushed across the clearing toward Nathan, who was just getting to his feet. The Bearagon and Andy hurried after him, heading for Claire, as Azzo charged Vivienne. Thaddeus saw movement from the corner of his eye, but before he could regroup enough to send a spell in that direction, he was grabbed and wrestled to the ground. Rudyard lay on top of him, his broad, stocky body heavy enough to pin him down.
“Settle down, my boy,” Rudyard said. “Settle down now. They’ve got you under some kind of spell.”
“Don’t hurt him, Rudyard,” Miriam said as she rushed up. “Let me get a look.”
Thaddeus bucked and struggled beneath Rudyard as the inner voice screamed in fury. “Get off! No! Leave me alone!”
“What’s this?” Miriam tugged down the collar of his shirt. “Oh! Oh my.”
“By Flora, what dark work is that?” Rudyard nearly shouted.
“It’s worse than I thought,” Miriam said as Thaddeus continued to struggle. “He’s been stuck by a Bitter Burr.”