The Magi Menagerie

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The Magi Menagerie Page 32

by Kale Lawrence


  Jonas had been right about one thing: A world of wonder had indeed been around the bend. It had been within the very confines of Ezra’s mind, leading him and his father back to this place all along.

  Just as the Babylonian text had written.

  Finally, the claustrophobic tunnels opened to the cisterns, revealing the grandeur of the historic site. Just like in his visions, the Corinthian pillars sprang from the depths. Amethyst waters swirled around their bases. Everything was bathed in an ethereal glow, prompting Jonas to douse the fiery orb in his palms. Beads of water dripped from unseen fissures. The coolness of the cave sent chills over Ezra’s skin, and he hugged his coat closer to himself.

  Ibrahim navigated around the columns until he came to the one resting upon the sideways head of Medusa. He knelt before her, tracing his fingers along the curls of her snake-like hair.

  “This is it,” he whispered.

  Ezra sank beside his father and pressed his palm against the statue’s cheek. A mixture of energies tickled his senses. So many memories were stored within the stone. So many dreams and aspirations. And perhaps, just as many tears and heartaches.

  “Just like in my dreams,” Ezra breathed.

  Jonas smiled at him. “Wondrous things, dreams.”

  Ezra could have sworn in that moment the statue winked at him in her playful manner. The spirit of the Shahmaran sang in the depth of her omniscient eyes.

  “So, how do we get to the Tablet?” Jonas broke the silence.

  After examining every centimetre of the pillar’s base, Ibrahim rose and stroked his beard. “I am not entirely sure, but I do have an inkling. Do you feel the magic in the air?”

  Jonas nodded. “The area must be protected by a crystal grid.”

  “We must remove that before proceeding,” Ibrahim insisted. “If we do not, who knows what harm will befall us?”

  “I agree. We’ll need to survey the area to find the stones,” suggested Jonas. “You cover the West and South walls, and I’ll get the North and East.”

  While Jonas ventured to the opposite side of the cisterns, Ezra followed his father over the boulders along the outer edges. His shoes slipped on the uneven surfaces, but he managed to maintain his balance.

  “What are we looking for?” Ezra questioned once he caught up with Ibrahim.

  “Gemstones,” his father answered. “Crystal grids are immensely strong enchantments. They must be dismantled in the proper manner. One false move and—well, let’s just say that even some Magi Adepts training to become Masters had their arms blown off in my day.”

  Ezra gulped.

  “Unfortunately, canım, I cannot disable the grid. You are the one with the connection to the Universe.”

  “What?! You want me to get my arms blown off?”

  Ibrahim attempted a smile, but the motion made him look weary and weak. “You will be fine. Jonas will guide you.”

  Ezra watched as Ibrahim crouched into the shallows and pointed out a submerged stone. To him, it simply resembled a rock amongst the natural topography of the cavern. But as Ibrahim guided Ezra’s hand through the glacial water and his fingertips brushed over its resting place, a violet glow burst into life. One by one, other points of luminance were triggered into existence, from the perimeters converging inward. Like the spokes of a gigantic carriage wheel, the grid came together at a single hub at the centre of the expanse. The unspoken authority commanded by the grid only increased the buzzing in his eardrums as the seconds ticked on.

  “We need to dismantle it in a counter-clockwise manner from the outside in,” Jonas’s voice echoed against the pillars. “Ezra, are you with me?”

  “I’m with you,” Ezra called out. Every syllable accentuated the palpitations of his pulse.

  “Good. Now, take out your wand and hold tight. I am going to start on my end and make my way toward you.”

  Gripping his quartz wand in nervous anticipation, Ezra nodded despite Jonas not being able to see him. But Ezra could see him or rather, the outline of his shadow as he touched the point of his crystal wand to the lustrous stones. Every time he did so, the gemstones’ illumination faded to extinction, and little by little, so did the resonance in the atmosphere. With scrupulous precision, Jonas collected the gemstones in his arms on his journey until finally, he reunited with Ezra and Ibrahim.

  “Ezra, I need you to take your wand and touch the point to the gemstone,” Jonas instructed. “Visualise yourself calling the stone’s strength into your crystal. Allow it to flow through your being and offer it back to the Universe.”

  “R-right,” said Ezra, attempting to supress the queasy feeling in his gut. Carefully, he did as Jonas had advised. One stone after another, Ezra disabled the remaining crystals in the outer perimeter. And each time, his entire body tingled with otherworldly power until he released it to the Celestial Lifeforce, its rightful owner.

  “You’re doing great,” Jonas encouraged. He had made his way back to where he first began, waiting to start with the next rotation of stones. “Once you finish here, I shall begin the second layer.”

  On they went for another painstaking quarter of an hour. With every passing minute, Ezra’s heart fluttered in a mixture of nerves and excitement. And with every deactivated stone, clarity and peace flooded through his veins. Ibrahim collected the dimmed crystals and laid them at the base of the Medusa head column like a ritual sacrifice before a god.

  “And now, the Activator Stone,” Jonas said once they had dismantled the rest. “The very last step. And often, the deadliest.”

  All Ezra could do was stare at Jonas in wide-eyed horror.

  “You may want to stand back, Ezra,” the Magi Master urged.

  “Oh, right.” He edged away and grit his teeth together, not knowing what to anticipate. Nevertheless, he braced himself against a pillar and watched in wonder while Jonas summoned the energy from the stone. Unlike the others, this feat drained the life from him. He could see it in every crease between Jonas’ brows, every bead of sweat along his forehead. Ezra’s breath caught in his chest when Jonas swayed on his feet before recovering his balance.

  Nearly five minutes had passed before the stone gave up the ghost. All at once, the cistern fell into a silence that seemed even louder than its former ambiance. Jonas collapsed, panting from the exertion.

  “Are you all right?” Ibrahim asked, helping him back to his feet.

  “Do not worry about me,” Jonas assured him and shook out the water from his shirt sleeves. “What comes next?”

  “Ever since Ezra mentioned the eyes of Medusa, I’ve been thinking about the mechanisms that must exist to extract the artifact from the column,” Ibrahim explained as they gathered before the sideways likeness of the mythic Greek creature. “I have not been able to locate such contraptions. But without a button or latch or other means of activation, I am at a loss for an answer.”

  While Jonas and Ibrahim investigated the pillar, Ezra allowed his attention to wander. His eyes skirted the ceiling and darted amongst the pillars. He shifted from foot to foot in the water, realising then the numbness in his toes. In the silence, he could almost hear a woman whispering into the night:

  “Would you believe me if I said it has been here all along? Just waiting for you to open your eyes?”

  Ezra frowned, remembering his answer. “I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

  “Confusion is just a part of the process. In time, you will find the things that baffled you were the things that shaped you into the person you became.”

  Nothing had baffled him more than this world. This world of the Magi and the Legerdemain Brotherhood. This world where prophecies had changed the lives of his family forever. If it had not been for those words from the past, he wouldn’t even be standing in confusion in a world he thought he’d left behind.

  If only he’d done what the Shahmaran had commanded he do from the very start. If only he had opened his eyes sooner to the—

  Opened his eyes.

  Lock
ed within time, where Destinies are viewed, the Lion’s touch opens eyes, immense power renewed.

  “What do you want, Ezra Newport? What do you really, truly want?”

  “I want a clear path.”

  The Shahmaran lifted her chin and tilted her head slightly to the side. “Then prepare to move.”

  Her image burned into his retinas. Her snakelike image, cocking her head to the side...

  “...just waiting to open your eyes?”

  “Where Destinies are viewed,” Ezra said under his breath and then blurted out, “What if you have to look into her eyes?”

  Ibrahim regarded him as if he had just spoken a foreign language. “Do what, canım?”

  “Of course! Just like the myths,” Jonas replied. “Those who looked into the eyes of Medusa turned to stone.”

  “And since she is the one who is stone, perhaps now it is the other way around,” Ezra concluded. “We need to look at Medusa to bring her back to life.” Coming alongside his father, he got to his knees and tilted his head sideways, lining up his eyes with the blank stare of the Snake Goddess. “Like this.”

  Ibrahim sank into the water beside him and replicated his stance. When nothing happened, his father’s disappointment dampened his hopeful expressions. Ezra grasped his hand.

  “The Lion’s touch opens eyes,” he quoted. “Together?”

  “Together,” Ibrahim agreed.

  The two of them extended their arms until their fingerprints pressed into the stone. An explosion of white light made Ezra retract his hand to shield his eyes from the brilliance. But once their surroundings disintegrated into darkness, one side of the moulding atop the statue’s cheek had retracted into itself, revealing an open compartment.

  Ibrahim sprang to his feet and extracted a linen-wrapped rectangle from the base. “In the name of Allah, most gracious, most merciful,” said Ibrahim, breathless.

  “The Tablet of Destinies,” Ezra murmured in disbelief. He met Jonas’ gaze and burst into an astonished grin. “We actually found it!”

  Jonas beamed his approval beneath the brim of his fedora. “I am proud of you, Ezra Newport. As will the Magi Council once we get it in their hands.”

  “On that note, let us make haste,” Ibrahim said, tucking the artifact under his arm. “Administration headquarters are still an hour’s journey north.”

  Guided by the fire in Jonas’ palms, the three of them stumbled up the pathway toward the entrance of the cisterns. This time, every step felt lighter than before. In fact, if Ezra hadn’t tripped over his own feet in his excitement, he would have sworn he was walking on air. The humid evening greeted them upon their exit, as well as an expectant Diego.

  “Well? Did you find it?”

  “I hope so,” Ibrahim replied, holding out the relic before the young man. “I suppose you’re the only one here who has actually seen it, so you will need to verify its authenticity.”

  With a strange expression tugging at the skin beneath his eyes, Diego received the artifact. He folded back the cloth just enough for the purple radiance to pierce the evening gloom and nodded in affirmation. “It is the Tablet of Destinies.”

  “Good, because if it wasn’t, I’d have to kill a man for false information.”

  Ezra gasped as a figure emerged from the blackness. Arrogant and resolute, the man approached, a faint glimmer reflecting from the silver embellishments of his cane. His shoes scuffed to a stop over the loose gravel. Ezra detected a wicked grin flickering into life in the shadows of his top hat.

  The silhouette of a monster.

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Betrayed

  Jonas whirled around and instinctively held out his arms to shield Diego, Ibrahim, and Ezra.

  “Don’t you dare take another step!” he hissed through clenched teeth. “I swear to you I will not hesitate to stand my ground!”

  The consul of the Legerdemain Brotherhood smirked, resting both of his gloved hands atop his cane. While he looked every bit the same as Jonas last remembered, flecks of silver permeated his dark hair and beard. Wrinkles tugged at the skin underneath his eyes, weighed down by years of malevolence, no doubt.

  Edison must have given in, Jonas thought, his heart sinking in disappointment.

  “Twelve years of hiding must get dreadfully tedious, does it not?”

  Jonas narrowed his eyes at the ingratiating voice of his father. “Not when I’m avoiding you.”

  “Hmm. ‘Tis a pity you didn’t finish your training,” Diederik replied, adjusting the fingers of his leather gloves. “And to think we could have basked in this moment together, on the same side. Leading the Brotherhood as an unstoppable father and son duo.”

  “You know nothing about leadership,” Jonas spat. “All you know how to do is manipulate people to do your dirty work. That’s all you and the Brotherhood have ever done.”

  “Now, is that any way to speak to your father?” rebuked Diederik. “Especially when he has the lives of your entire Chapter at the tip of a Watcher’s arrow?”

  No.

  Jonas cringed upon seeing a line of shadows emerge from the darkness, each one followed by the looming form of a Dark Watcher. Symon Bellinor led the way, the beam from his electric torch sweeping the ground at his shoes.

  “Ah, why hello, Mr. van der Campe and friends,” laughed Symon, holding out his arms in welcome. “Lovely to see you all again.”

  Just the sight of his Magi family in the same enchanted shackles he’d been fitted with at Greenwich Park made his stomach turn. “Let them go, or you shall face my wrath,” Jonas threatened, fire burning in his palms. “You do not want to do this right now.”

  “Oh, actually, I really do,” Diederik responded. Symon’s electric torch cast ghastly shadows across his cruel smile. “Tell him how much that would make my night, Diego.”

  Gulping for air that would not come, Jonas turned to face him. “What is he talking about?”

  Tears welled in Diego’s eyes as he held the Tablet protectively against his chest.

  “Your precious Ganymede decided his loyalties lie elsewhere,” Symon said, revelling in the horrendous tension that violated the night air.

  “No. No, that’s—”

  “Oh, Jonas, don’t be so naïve,” Diederik chastised. “For weeks, Diego Montreal has served as my undercover informant, feeding me all the information I needed about your activities as well as the Tablet’s location. In fact, he was quite helpful on your journey here. All those telegrams kept us briefed on how to coordinate this little rendezvous.”

  Jonas gaped at his father and then at Diego. He struggled to process the onslaught of pain that threatened to tear apart the very filaments of his heart. The very pieces that had once loved without hesitation. Without fear. “That’s not possible!”

  Without a word, Diego brushed past him and willingly handed the artifact over to Diederik.

  Every member of the Irish Chapter choked in astonishment.

  “No!” Oliver sobbed.

  “Diego Javier, how dare you!” Annabelle admonished.

  “Kid, what’re you doing?!” exclaimed Zaire.

  Amidst the tears, a wave of panic avalanched through Jonas’ torso. Shaking from the escalating discomfort in his chest, he barely noticed when Dark Watchers seized him and the Newports.

  “Diego, how—how could you?” Jonas cried. “What on earth possessed you to do something like this?!”

  “You would not understand,” Diego muttered, avoiding eye contact while he held his arms close to his stomach.

  “No, apparently I don’t understand!” Jonas yelled, temper flaring. He struggled against the Watchers restraining him. “After everything we have been through together, after everything I have done for you—”

  “That’s just it, Jonas,” Diego replied, his face flushed in aggravation. “I am fully capable of living my own life and making my own decisions! I—I am not your puppet for you to control!”

  “No, it seems only Diederik has that power!”


  “Now isn’t that charming,” his father chided, entertained by the argument. “Like father, like son.”

  Jonas glowered at him. “I am nothing like you.”

  “Oh, and you do not have to worry about your confidant here,” Diederik continued, ruffling Diego’s hair. “Symon will take excellent care of him.”

  Diego flinched when Symon patted him on the cheek.

  Jonas dug his fingernails into his palms. If it had not been for the Watchers restraining him and the newly fitted binds around his wrists, he would have unleashed hell on Diederik and Symon in that very moment.

  Diederik flashed a devilish grin and snapped his fingers. The Dark Watchers flanking Jonas shoved him to his knees, causing him to yelp in discomfort. Sauntering forward, he erected his cane and lifted Jonas’ chin with it.

  “Jonas, Jonas, Jonas. You certainly haven’t lost your defiance. I can see why it was so difficult for Mr. Montreal to lure you into a false sense of security.”

  Jonas struggled against his binds, his airways constricting in anger. “How dare you,” he growled.

  “You know, this has really shaped up to be an excellent evening,” Diederik bragged, walking in a cocky gait toward the captive members of the Irish Chapter. He toyed with Aja’s braid before lifting her chin to meet his eyes. “What do you think, Beautiful? Do you think I have a chance at keeping my title now that I am in possession of the Tablet of Destinies?”

  Aja whimpered, trying to pull away.

  “Don’t you dare touch her!” Jonas warned, attempting with all his might to break out of his shackles. “Don’t you dare touch any of them!”

  “Mmm,” Diederik muttered, casting a glance in Diego’s direction and next, a knowing look at Symon. He sneered at his son. “Too late.”

  “Uncle Diederik, please stop this!”

  “Ah, and as for you, Miss Kierra,” Diederik spun on his heels, marching toward her. “Much like your cousin, you are also a disappointment to the family. Do not think my wife has forgiven your mother for all the hurt she has caused by foolishly following the path of the Magi.”

 

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