Magic's Child

by Justine Larbalestier

  She was still lying on the floor, still crying.

  “Jay-Tee.”

  She groaned. “N’magic, Tom,” she mumbled.

  No magic? Was that really what she’d said? Tom’s head was still fuzzy from the wine he’d drunk with Cath in New York City. They’d stayed up talking for hours. They hadn’t talked like that, really talked, in such a long, long time. Not since before he met Esmeralda, found out what he was. He felt good. Fuzzy, but good.

  Well, not all good. Not if Jay-Tee really was crazy. Lying on the floor and crying wasn’t exactly a sane activity, was it?

  But she’d kissed him. She’d kissed him, and that had felt very good indeed. He’d thought he was going to burst into flames, and not just because he had too many clothes on for a Sydney summer. He was still vibrating. He took his jumper off.

  “Are you okay, Jay-Tee?”

  She moaned again. Was that a crazy moan?

  “Jay-Tee,” he said, stroking her hair. “Jay-Tee? You should sit up. Let me get you some water.” And himself some water. He was suddenly parched. Water was a really good idea.

  She moved her head in what might have been a nod. He stood up, grabbed her hands. “Come on, Jay-Tee. Help me, here.” He pulled and she practically flew up into his arms. She was little. Littler than Reason. He hadn’t noticed that before, because she was so big in other ways. Big personality, big mouth. Nice mouth, he thought, now that he’d explored it some. He blushed.

  “You’re cute, Tom,” she said, tears wet on her cheeks. “I like your eyebrows.”

  She really was mad. He walked her across to a stool and slid her onto it. She leaned her forearms on the table as if that was the only way she could stay upright. “My head is all…What do you say? What’s that Tom word? Buggery! My head is all buggery.” She hiccupped.

  Tom didn’t bother to tell her that the word she meant was buggered, not buggery; instead, he handed her a glass of water. “Drink this.” She did.

  “See that?” she said, pointing to an almost empty bottle of wine on the table. “I drank all that.”

  Tom had had four glasses of wine. Well, three and a bit. He hadn’t come close to finishing the last one. He’d’ve preferred Coke. So Jay-Tee must be drunk, not crazy. That was a relief, though it still meant she’d probably only kissed him because of being drunk. But she’d kissed him this morning too! Right here in the kitchen. She hadn’t been drunk then.

  But it had been a little kiss. A very little kiss.

  “You drank all of it?”

  Jay-Tee nodded. “I think it might have been too much. I can’t believe it’s gone.”

  “Well, if you drink it, that’s what happens.”

  “Not the wine, Tom! My magic.”

  “Don’t be sill—”

  “I’m gone. How can I be me without magic?”

  “Jay-Tee—”

  “Aaargh!”

  Tom jumped; Jay-Tee was crying even louder now. Her head sank down onto her forearms. Tom stood beside her and patted her head, feeling useless. “Do you want some more water?” he asked.

  Jay-Tee made a noise that he decided was a yes. He filled her glass from the tap and put it next to her forearm. She sat up—her eyes were red, her nose too. There were tears and snot on her face and on the table. Fortunately there were tissues left in the box he’d used to mop up her earlier bout of tears. He hadn’t pegged Jay-Tee for a sob machine.

  “I might have no magic, but I can still drink water.”

  “You’re just drunk, Jay-Tee. You’re still magic. Otherwise you’d be dead. Remember?”

  “Oh, no,” she said. “It’s different now.”

  “How?”

  “I did drink too much. But that’s just because I was scared. It’s really, really gone, Tom. I’m not kidding. I’m a hundred-per-cent honest.”

  “How’s that possible?” Tom said, humouring her. He reached out and touched her cheek. “You’re warm. You’re definitely alive.”

  “I drank too much.” She drank the rest of the water. He got her more.

  “You drank too much and it made your magic disappear?” Tom asked. He sat down next to her, wondering if there was anything to eat. He was starving. Bloody vegetarians and their budgie food. Jay-Tee hiccupped again.

  “No, I drank too much because my magic disappeared.” Jay-Tee shook her head, as if she was trying to shake something clear, or maybe she was just trying to stop the hiccups. “But that’s not the only important thing. Jason Blake has Sarafina. That’s what he called about. I was supposed to give Esmeralda a message. But I—”

  “I heard. Pretty excellent. ‘You should shit in a bottle…’” Though it was also definitely a sign of insanity. She never would have done that before. She’d been too scared of Jason Blake to even say his name out loud. “Hey! You said his name!”

  Jay-Tee grinned, then hiccupped. She shook her grin away. “No, it was a terrible thing to do—not the saying-his-name bit—that’s no big deal. But I didn’t take the message. From him, I mean, from Jason Blake. I don’t know what the message was.”

  “What message?”

  “He wanted me to tell Reason and Mere something, but I didn’t listen.” Her next hiccup was even louder.

  “Drink a glass of water backwards.”

  “Do what?”

  “You take a glass of water, like this, then you lean over. Look, let me show you.”

  She spilled some of it, but when she stood back up, swayed, grabbed the back of the chair, and told him that it was stupid, the hiccups were gone.

  Jay-Tee was muddled. Tom wondered if he was muddled too. “You kiss really good,” he said, though he’d been planning to ask her where Reason and Esmeralda were.

  She smiled. It wasn’t a crazy smile. “You do too. ’Cept for using a bit too much tongue—”

  He smacked her lightly on the shoulder. “Do not!”

  “Do too!”

  “Do not!”

  “Do!”

  “Not,” he said, leaning forward, careful to hold onto the table and avoid touching the nasty bruise on her cheek, kissing her lips gently. She kissed him back. They exchanged more kisses, gentle as butterflies, one after another, lips on lips, mouths opening only slowly, tiny hints of tongue. Tom felt his ears get hot. He’d never kissed anyone like this before. “You’re not hiccupping anymore.”

  “No.”

  They kissed again until she pulled away. Tom wondered if it was ethical for him to be kissing a drunk person. Or a crazy person, for that matter.

  “Esmeralda,” she said firmly. “Reason.”

  “Right,” Tom said. “Jason Blake has Reason’s mum? That’s what you said?”

  She nodded.

  “Where are they?”

  “New York,” Jay-Tee said. “They’re in New York.” Her lips were bigger and redder than usual, almost like she was wearing lipstick. Looking at them made Tom feel even hotter. He hoped he wasn’t blushing.

  If she was mad, was any of this true?

  “Tom! Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Looking at you like what?”

  “Like you think I’m making everything up. My dad used to look at me exactly like that. I’m not making this up! Why would I? Why would Jason Blake be calling here? Where do you think Reason and Esmeralda are?”

  “But…” he said. “Well, you think your magic is gone. And you’re clearly alive, and you’ve been saying mad—”

  “You think I’ve gone nuts?”

  “No,” Tom said. “Well, um, sort of, maybe…”

  “How do you think I went through the door and ended up in the backyard? If I was magic, I’d go to New York, wouldn’t I? Look at me, Tom, look really closely. Do you see any magic?”

  Tom looked at her and then closed his eyes, focusing his own magic. There were no shapes, no emeralds, no triangles.

  No magic.

  He opened them again.

  “See?”

  He nodded slowly, trying to make sense of what he�
��d seen. Of what he hadn’t seen. “No magic?”

  “No.”

  “What happened?”

  “I almost died. Again. And Reason fixed me, but she didn’t give me magic, she took it away. I don’t know how she did it.

  “I’m a dead spot.”

  Tom’s mouth opened, but no words came out. How could…He couldn’t imagine not having magic. It would be like losing an arm—no, much worse than that. It would be like losing the special, talented, cool part of yourself. Being all three-dimensional and colourful and then waking up one morning 2-D and grey.

  “I told you she would save me.”

  She didn’t sound very happy about it. “You’re sure?” he asked.

  “Stop saying that, Tom! I’m sure! Okay? You’re sure too. You just saw it. And stop looking at me like that!” Jay-Tee wiped her eyes. “I can’t think about it right now, okay?”

  Tom nodded, took a deep breath. “So, Reason and Esmeralda?”

  “They’re in New York City, waiting for Jason Blake to get there. He kidnapped Sarafina.”

  “He kidnapped Sarafina? From Kalder Park?”

  “Yes.”

  “But my mum is there. Is she okay?”

  “I think so,” Jay-Tee said. “He only wanted his daughter. He didn’t care about anyone else.”

  “So he just casually strolled into Kalder and took his daughter away? How come they allowed that?”

  “We don’t know. It has to have been Cansino magic. You should see what Reason’s like now, Tom. She glows. And she moves like she’s some kind of…I don’t know, alien or something. I think she’s becoming just like her ancestor dude. It’s freaky.”

  “And Jason Blake is like that too?” Tom tried to imagine Jason Blake being even scarier than he already was.

  “No. Well, we don’t know, but Mere says Raul Cansino chose Reason, so she’s the only one he made like him.”

  “Well, that’s a relief.”

  “I guess. It’s too weird, though. It’s like she’s not Reason anymore. But if she weren’t like that, I guess I’d be dead.”

  Tom didn’t want to think about Jay-Tee being dead. “What have the Kalder Park people said? Why would Reason’s mum go with Jason Blake?”

  “They haven’t said anything so far, I don’t think. They haven’t called here, but maybe they’ve called Mere’s cell phone.” Jay-Tee shrugged.

  “Great. Nice to know their security’s so ace. Hey, wait a minute. How did Blake get here? Did he come through the door?”

  “Nope. We think he took a plane.”

  “A plane?”

  “Yeah, Tom, you know, big metal thing? Fly through the sky?”

  Tom ignored her sarcasm. “But why? Why come all this way to steal Sarafina? Why would he do that?”

  “Well, if I hadn’t told him to go to hell, we might know.”

  “Point,” Tom said. “We have to call them.”

  “Yes!” Jay-Tee said, then stopped. “Call who? Kalder Park?”

  “No. Reason and Esmeralda.”

  “Right,” Jay-Tee said.

  “I’ll get my phone.” Tom picked up his backpack where he’d let it drop when he first came through the door and fished out his mobile. He turned it on and it beeped excitedly at him. “Huh. Lots of messages.”

  “You had your phone with you the whole time? You had it turned off!”

  “Well, yeah. I forgot. Mere only just gave it to me so hardly anyone knows the number.”

  “But we called you like half a million times!”

  “You called me?”

  “We were worried, Tom,” Jay-Tee said. “You were gone for ages and you said you’d come back right away. You know, after your sister called.”

  “Yeah,” Tom said. “I meant to. But…” he waved a hand. “Stuff happened. Nothing bad.”

  “Here’s the number.” She slid a piece of paper at Tom.

  “You want me to call?” Tom asked, marvelling at how sober he’d become. “You’re the one who talked to Jason Blake. Not me.”

  “But I’m drunk.” She hiccupped to prove it. It sounded forced to Tom.

  “No, you’re not.” Jay-Tee’s magic being gone was plenty sobering. “You’re not even wobbling anymore,” he said, though she was a little bit.

  “Yes, I am. See!” She demonstrated the worst drunken wobble Tom had ever seen.

  “Why do you want me to call?” he asked. “’Cause you’re embarrassed that you stuffed it up?”

  “Pretty much,” Jay-Tee agreed. “I don’t want Esmeralda mad at me. Not that she can do anything. Magical, I mean. Though, come to think of it, she can do plenty. Throw me out onto the street. I mean, it’s not like she can teach me magic, is it? What use am I now?” Her eyes went wet again. She grabbed another tissue to blow her nose.

  “She wouldn’t do that.” Maybe Esmeralda wasn’t as wonderful as he used to think, but he still couldn’t imagine she’d throw Jay-Tee out. Then another thought occurred to him. “So you want her cranky with me?”

  “But she won’t be mad at you, because you’re just telling her what happened—you’re not the one who did it. None of it’s your fault. It’d just be nice if you could, you know, make it seem a little less like it was my fault. Oh, and tell her that the line he was on was all echoey and hard to hear. That could mean he was calling from a plane, right? I mean, we already knew that, but even so.”

  Tom sighed and flipped open the mobile. “You really don’t have any more magic? How does that feel?” The thought of losing his magic was so horrible he couldn’t go there. He’d rather die.

  8

  Esmeralda didn’t get angry. She accepted Tom’s explanation that Jay-Tee had been too freaked out to talk to Blake. She asked lots of questions about Jay-Tee’s non-magic status. That’s what she called it, “non-magic status.” As if Jay-Tee had been a spy for some government magic department and now had to be reclassified. Tom wondered if it was actuary talk. The kind of thing that filled up the memos and reports at Esmeralda’s work. Magic actuary talk.

  “Can you stay there? Answer the phone next time?”

  Tom said that he would.

  “How is Jay-Tee doing?”

  “She’s fine,” Tom said, though she was sitting beside him looking decidedly less than fine. “How’s Reason? Jay-Tee says she’s been really weird.”

  “She’s fine too,” Esmeralda said. “We’ll call if anything happens. You do the same.” And that was that. Tom put the phone down. Outside, the sun was setting, orange-pink light making its way through the dense foliage of Filomena.

  He thought about his own mother in Kalder Park, barking mad like she’d been his entire life. If Esmeralda hadn’t found him he’d’ve gone that way too. His mum had never known about magic, never known how to stay sane.

  “Whatcha thinking?”

  “About my mum. I mean, at least now you’re never going to go mad like she is.”

  “Oh,” Jay-Tee said. “Oh! Your mom! Of course! Oh, Tom, that’s a genius idea! If Reason can turn my magic off, then she could turn your mom’s off too! Your mom would be sane again!”

  Tom felt like he’d been punched. He heard what Jay-Tee said, heard each individual word, but he couldn’t believe them. “My mum,” he said.

  “Yeah,” Jay-Tee said. “Wouldn’t that be amazing?”

  “Yes,” he said, but he was too afraid to believe it. He had no memories of his mum ever being normal. Not one.

  14

  Skin

  The 610 tiny smudges of light smeared across space, swirling into a spiral that opened out into infinity. I tumbled into it, falling round and round, then sliding into space even more crowded with lights than Sydney had been.

  New York.

  This was what a door was truly like: a swirling bridge between two points in magic space. So much more fun than simply opening a door and stepping through. The real world was so clunky, so constrained.

  I surveyed the magical landscape, looking for other doors. I saw gro
ups of lights threaded together as the door to Sydney was—seventeen of them. A prime number. All around me there were many prime configurations. I wondered if primes were one of magic’s building blocks. Or maybe it was the other way around?

  Some of the doors seemed near, others less so. But I wasn’t sure what that meant here.

  The door swirled again, and Esmeralda’s bright lights appeared. And something began pressing in on me; noises leaked in from the other world.

  “Rea-son. Rea-son. Rea-son.”

  I pushed up against it to where this world thickened into the other world. “Esmeralda,” I said.

  She told me something else. But the words muddled as they floated by.

  “All right,” I said. Maybe she had news of Sarafina.

  I made myself leave pure magic and mathematics behind.

  This time I stumbled on re-entry, slipping down the steps and landing heavily on the footpath. I felt like I was being crushed by normal gravity. I looked up at Esmeralda standing in front of the door to Sydney, rugged up against the cold. She came down and grabbed my arm to steady me.

  “Are you okay?” she asked. Above the door I saw the face carved in stone with the crudely painted eyes and moustache. He seemed amused this time, not sad.

  “I’m fine,” I said, even though I felt horrible. I couldn’t stop thinking about Sarafina. Was she still alive? I’d stopped wobbling, but my heart beat faster than it should. When I was in Cansino’s world, I couldn’t feel my heart.

  “How can you be fine? You must be freezing! You have no hair and no hat. You’re not even wearing a coat!”

  “The air’s heavier here.”

  “Here? What?” Esmeralda asked, putting her hands in her coat pockets. Her breath turned into puffs of condensation.

  “In the real world.” My breath didn’t.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve found some doors,” I told her, because I didn’t want to explain about the other world.

  “How many?” she asked, shifting back and forth.

  I shrugged. “Seventeen. But there might be more. There are other things there that could be doors. I’m not sure.”

  “Are they close by?”