“See?” she said, shifting her gaze to the particles streaming out of me. “They’re dancing! My father said they would.” Sarafina smiled, but the tight, intense expression on her face didn’t change.
“Jason Blake?” I asked. “He told you to do this?” I felt dizzy. I took another step towards her and swayed, grabbing at one of the ferns to keep from falling.
Sarafina laughed. “This is more like it. The world’s getting bigger.”
“It will get bigger and bigger,” Jason Blake said, stepping from the shadows of the house into the radiant garden. He slipped a pair of black sunglasses on, hiding his eyes, but the expression on his face was identical to Sarafina’s. As the two of them stared at me, it looked as if someone else were operating the muscles behind their skin.
He strode towards Sarafina.
“Let me help you,” he said, putting his hand on her shoulder. “You can pull harder now.”
She nodded.
The particles tore from me faster. I could feel cell walls begin to thin, then break. I turned my gaze inward and at last saw the sequence of numbers that made me—just like my mother’s had a moment ago, they were breaking up: Fib (55), 139,583,862,445; Fib (37), 24,157,817; and Fib (13), 233. My Fibs were dissolving. I was getting lighter.
Sarafina loved me. Why was she doing this to me?
I opened my eyes, turned to her. “You’re hurting me.”
“It won’t be for long. Alexander promised.”
“I did.” My grandfather did not look at me: his gaze was fixed on the magic flowing into my mother. Then I saw a single mote dance across the space between them, from her into him.
“It hurts, Sarafina. You have to stop.” All the changes that Raul’s magic had wrought in me were unravelling. My scalp was itching. My stomach contracted into a hard ball. Tears leaked out of my eyes. When was the last time I had cried?
“Soon, darling,” she said, but she wasn’t looking at me.
“No,” I said. “You can’t do this!” The motes floated as Raul Cansino’s had in the cemetery, when he was dying, but now they floated out of me and into my mother and Jason Blake. “Stop!”
Neither of them said anything. They continued to tear the magic away, to rip me apart. They stood even closer together now. Shoulder to shoulder, father and daughter. Faces set like dolls.
I gasped, then pulled back with all my strength. But as the magic flowed away, my humanity came rushing back. Pain. Emotion. My love for Sarafina. How could she do this to me?
“You’re killing me!”
I fell, landed heavily on my knees. Only the magic in Tom’s trousers kept them from tearing.
“Sarafina!”
Her head tilted to one side as if she heard music. Jason Blake must have heard it too. The expressions on their faces were still identical.
But they weren’t listening to me.
“You’re killing me and my baby. Little Glory or Brilliance or Beauty or Fibonacci. If you don’t stop, she won’t ever be born. You won’t get to name her. Sarafina!” As the magic slipped away from me, I could see more clearly, feel more clearly. I loved my child. I loved my mother. How could she do this?
Sarafina staggered. Jason Blake steadied her. Had she heard me at last?
“Fight back,” someone said beside me, slipping their arm around my waist, keeping me from falling. “Pull it back towards you!”
“Look!” Jason Blake said to Sarafina. “Your mother’s here to help your daughter. I told you Esmeralda owned her now.”
“Esmeralda?” I asked. “Where did you come from?” The world—both Cansino’s and the real one—was losing focus around me.
“Pull, Reason, pull,” Esmeralda commanded. “I’m going to lend you all the strength I have. Don’t waste it.”
“He wants to be like me.” He’d said he wanted to be like me, called me magnificent, an extraordinary golden creature.
“Of course he does. We all do. But you can’t allow it. Fight him, Reason!”
Fight, I thought, watching the floating pieces of magic flow into my mother and from her to Jason Blake.
“He’s using you, Sarafina,” Esmeralda told her. “He’s killing you as surely as he is Reason. You don’t have to help him.”
Sarafina didn’t hear; she was too entranced by the dancing pieces of my magic—watching it become her magic, then Jason Blake’s. She was too busy killing me to hear her mother.
31
Belly of the Beast
I could feel Esmeralda’s magic inside me now, strengthening me just a little, easing the dizziness just enough to focus again. “Fight,” Esmeralda hissed in my ear.
I held out my hands, pulled as hard as I could, but only managed to slow the flow, not reverse it.
I looked at my mother’s face, at Jason Blake’s. Both were set. Hungry. Identical. They didn’t see me, just the magic they were taking. I faltered. At once the magic began to rip loose from me again.
“Don’t stop. You can’t stop.” Esmeralda’s voice was starting to sound strained.
I pulled, harder than I had before. Why was Sarafina doing this to me? She’d hated magic, had warned me never to use it. What had my grandfather done to her?
“Sarafina!” Esmeralda called. “Why are you killing your daughter?”
My magic was still being pulled from me. Slower than before, but still leaving me. It hurt. If I had my magic back, the pain would go away.
Sarafina and Jason Blake weren’t feeling any pain.
That’s when I realised.
Santiago David Cuervo had told me about becoming magic all the time. He told me how peaceful it was. No pain. His grandmother had seen it happen. Now my mother and grandfather were becoming the magic as they dragged it from me. I wasn’t fighting them; I was fighting magic.
That was why they looked the same. Their faces were distorted with the same hunger.
That was what magic was: greed. They both wore magic’s face.
It had consumed all my ancestors, turned them against one another. Just as Sarafina was now trying to consume me.
“Fight, Reason!” Esmeralda yelled at me, pushing even more of her magic into me. “Stop it, Sarafina. You have to stop it. You’re killing her!”
But my mother wasn’t just killing me, she was making me see. With the magic pulsing through me I’d been blind. But now I saw that Cansino’s world—real space, Blake called it—was the belly of the beast. It was the centre of everything, where magic came from. Magic that was so seductive, so overpoweringly wonderful, you’d lay down your life for it, your daughter’s life. Magic crooned to me, to all of us: Leave everything else behind, become a part of magic, a child of magic.
Magic-wielders didn’t wield magic; it wielded them. Every one of them except that one chosen magic child. Everyone but Raul Cansino. And then me, and soon Jason Blake. Unless I could keep it.
Not just for me, but for my child. If I died, then it died too.
I pulled harder then, trying to haul the magic back. I wanted it, even knowing what it did. Knowing that it stopped me seeing, blunted feelings of love and hate and anger. I still wanted it.
Sarafina had been right. She’d always been right: magic was wrong. She’d told me over and over again that my grandmother’s belief in magic made her evil. Sarafina had hated any signs of magic, wouldn’t even let me read The Magic Pudding. I’d thought she was mad, but she’d been trying to keep the beast out of our lives. Don’t let her charm you, she’d said. But really she’d meant, Don’t let magic charm you.
Sarafina trained me my whole life to resist the temptation. That was why she called me Reason, so I could fight magic. This was what I’d been raised to do. If she’d raised me in Esmeralda’s house, how could I have resisted?
Sarafina was right—there were worse things than madness. This, for instance, fighting my mother and grandfather to the death. But my mother was not my enemy, nor was Esmeralda, not even Jason Blake. Magic was, working through them, turning them into monster
s.
“You were right, Sarafina. About everything. I’m sorry I didn’t understand,” I said louder, trying to break through its grip on her. “Remember Le Roi. Remember what magic made you do to him? What Esmeralda made you do? Remember your cat, Sarafina!”
“Good,” Esmeralda said. “Keep talking.”
Sarafina staggered, blinked. “Le Roi?” But her hands were still outstretched.
“Your cat, Sarafina,” I said. “Magic made you bring it back from the dead. Remember? Esmeralda made you cut its throat.”
“Didn’t happen quite like that,” Esmeralda murmured.
Sarafina brought her hand to her own throat.
“Magic, Sarafina, you hate it. Remember? You’re right to hate it. It’s the enemy, Sarafina. It eats us. Let it go!”
“Then why do you want it so much, Reason?” asked Blake. “Why does Esmeralda want it so much? You know she’ll just take it from you. She’s got her claws in. If you get your magic back, you won’t keep it.” He’d begun to sweat, his clothes growing damp, water dripping from his chin.
I stared at Sarafina, willing her to stop, willing her to look at me, still using Esmeralda’s magic to stop the disappearance of my own. “I’ll fix it, Sarafina. I’ll turn your magic off, just what you always wanted!”
She looked at me, still pulling the magic, but the greedy expression was gone from her face.
“Le Roi,” she said again. “In the southeast corner of the cellar.” Her eyes, fixed on a point beyond me, were somehow blank. This was how she’d looked back at Kalder Park.
“Magic’s evil. You always knew that.”
Sarafina moved her head; I couldn’t tell if she was shaking it or nodding. “Le Roi wasn’t evil,” she said, her hands slowing. “Not until he died. And that was my fault. I shouldn’t…I should have accepted—” Her grip on my magic loosened.
“That’s right, Sarafina. But it’s okay now,” Esmeralda said. “Everything’s okay. You just have to stop.” She lowered her voice. “Pull even harder now. She’s weakening.”
“Don’t listen to them, Sarafina,” Jason Blake said. “That’s Esmeralda talking. Your mother is lying to you again, stealing from you again.”
“No, she’s not,” I said. “Not this time. It was never your mother tricking you. It was magic. Magic is what eats us alive. You were right! You told me not to trust it. You told me to stay away. You were right and I was wrong. I thought you’d lied to me, but you never did.”
“I never lied to you,” she said, meeting my eyes, lowering her hands.
Jason Blake grabbed her hands and jerked them up. “You can’t stop! They’ll steal everything!”
She pulled away from him, took a few unsteady steps towards the stream. I pulled hard and fast, dragging back as much as I could. Esmeralda pulled with me. I couldn’t let my grandfather have it. I could feel it clouding my thoughts again, filling me with the need for it. I wondered if my expression was changing. Was I wearing magic’s face?
Jason Blake screamed. Sarafina looked bewildered. “Reason,” she said, but I couldn’t tell if it was a question or a statement. Her face melted of expression; she looked like a baby. Her hands fell to her sides.
Jason Blake leapt at me, as if he could claw the Cansino magic out of me with his hands. I rolled out of his way, pulling back even more magic from Sarafina, from him, from the air around us. I wanted what was mine.
I wanted everything.
Esmeralda jumped in front of me. Blake punched her in the face. The blow made her stagger, but she remained steady on her feet, raising her hands, keeping her body between me and my grandfather.
I was getting stronger.
Sarafina sank to the ground, trembling.
Blake tried to lunge past Esmeralda. I stepped back, stumbling over the ferns. My left foot landed in the stream. A large black, gold, and white carp darted around it. I stepped back onto the path, ran to Sarafina’s side.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded, staring at her hands. “What was I doing?”
“You still have the magic I gave you,” I told her. “Will you help me?”
Sarafina sat up. She nodded. “But you’ll turn it off, like you promised?”
Jason Blake knocked Esmeralda aside. I turned to him. My magic was wrapped up tight and strong. I could feel it calling to everything he’d stolen.
Back to me. Mine.
I would fight him until he was destroyed. Ever since I’d first met him I’d known he was a bad man, and now I was going to drain him of all Cansino’s magic.
“No,” Sarafina said, barely above a whisper. “Run away.”
“What?” Every cell of my body was poised, ready to rip open his cells.
I shook my head, as if that would clear my thoughts. Jason Blake stood in front of me, teeth bared. Calling his own magic forth.
“Run,” Sarafina said. “Like I taught you: run away.”
Run away? Why should I? I was stronger than him now. I was sure of it. But all Sarafina’s lessons came back to me: Always look for the escape route. Keep a bag packed, always ready for when the moment is right to slip away.
I knew a lot about running away.
Was it simpler to fight him or to run? What did the magic want me to do?
To stay. To drain every inch of him.
I reached out my arms, making them thin as wires.
“No!” Esmeralda shouted. She ran to Sarafina and offered her a hand. My mother hesitated but then took it. “Don’t fight him!”
“What are you waiting for?” Jason Blake asked. He couldn’t win, but the greed was too great in him not to try.
Esmeralda pulled Sarafina towards me. She put her hand on my shoulder. Sarafina grasped the other. “You can’t fight all three of us, Alexander.”
“I’m not going to fight him,” I said, “I’m going to destroy him.” I didn’t feel angry at all. It was just what the magic wanted.
I began to drain him.
Jason Blake paled, took a step away.
I drew more of his magic, everything he’d taken, and still more.
“Can you take us back to Sydney?” Esmeralda asked.
I frowned. In the corner of my vision was the back door to Esmeralda’s house, all 610 lights. I could go there. I could take them with me.
But that meant travelling through the beast, and it was already so strong inside me. All my pain was gone. My love for Sarafina too—I only remembered it. If I jumped into the belly, into the land of magic, lights, and numbers, why would I ever leave it again?
Of course, if I stayed here and drained Jason Blake dry, would I wind up any different?
“Can you do it?”
I nodded. “Hold on to me. Tight.”
I focussed on the door. It was 9,290 K away, Sarafina had said, but it felt close and familiar. I took a step up into the air, clutching Sarafina and Esmeralda tight. Then something hard and sharp cut into me—Jason Blake grasping for me one last time with all his strength. I ignored him, took another step through space towards my grandmother’s house.
Magic flowed through me, taking me over again. More than I’d ever felt before.
I fought to keep my mind clear. Magic was not good, I remembered that, but I felt exquisite, rushing across city, forest, ocean. The blues, greens, browns, purples of the world smeared into rushing black under my feet. Sarafina and Esmeralda were small and fragile as butterflies, as if I were their mother.
I could let them go. If I closed my eyes and plunged deeper into Cansino’s world, then they’d fall. It would be quick. I would never have to worry about them or anyone else again. I would be free to stay in Raul Cansino’s world forever.
The lights of the door drew closer.
Magic is the enemy, I reminded myself. It had killed my family, generation after generation.
It felt wonderful, better than the breaking of a drought, the first clear cold rain turning the dust to mud, streaming down my face; better than mango dripping over my face and
hands. Better than madness.
Magic is the enemy, I chanted.
Sarafina raised me to reject magic. She was right. It fed on us, all of us.
She was wrong. It was beautiful. In the corners of my eyes it unfurled, purer than I’d ever seen it. I wanted it. I needed it.
Evil. Enemy. Didn’t I want to be human?
Up ahead flickered the door between Sydney and New York. A door made from Cansino magic. I reached for it, felt the recognition of like to like.
As we landed in Esmeralda’s kitchen, Sarafina slid from my arms and onto the floor.
Tom, Jay-Tee, and Danny stood staring at us. Danny?
“Jason Blake!” Jay-Tee screamed.
I turned. My grandfather stood behind me.
32
Full Kitchen
“What on earth?” Tom said. Standing in the kitchen were Esmeralda, Jason Blake, a completely bald, gold-skinned Reason, and a woman Tom figured had to be Reason’s mum. The air crackled; the hair on Tom’s arms stood on end.
Jason Blake raised his hand and Tom’s legs buckled as if he’d been kicked from behind. He fell, letting out a yelp. He saw Jay-Tee falling too, and even Mere staggered against the icy diamonds spilling from Blake’s fingers.
“Leave them alone!” Danny rushed forward and punched Jason Blake so hard he spun, slamming into the kitchen cupboards. Dishes rattled from inside them. “No magic in me, mister.”
“Yes, I recall,” Jason Blake said, wiping his mouth.
“Don’t try anything else,” Esmeralda said. “Either this young man will thump you again or Reason will drain you completely.”
Blake raised his hands. “No need for either.”
“Where did you all come from?” Jay-Tee asked. “The door never even opened!”
Reason didn’t say anything. Tom wondered if she could still speak; everything Jay-Tee had said about her was dead-on. Reason looked like an alien. She had no hair on her head, no eyelashes or eyebrows either. And she was completely golden: her skin, her fingernails, her teeth. Even the green pants he’d made her flickered with a metallic sheen.
Tom reached out for Jay-Tee’s hand and squeezed it hard, but he was still looking at Reason. She was so golden.
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