by John Levitt
But this was different. Another wave hit the jetty and the backwash spun me around and I found myself underwater. The spinning around disoriented me, and for a moment I had no idea which direction led up to the sweet air and which headed down to the dark depths.
Another swell swung me around and popped me up like a cork, still holding Lou’s harness in a death grip. I had a quick decision to make. I could get away from the jetty, strike out toward the beach in the slim hope I could make it. Or I could aim for the jetty, so very close, where Eli and Victor might be able to reach in and haul me out. But the jetty was made of rock and concrete, and at its base large jagged rocks protruded out. Even one of the less powerful waves would slam us into those rocks the moment we got close, breaking bones, rupturing organs, crushing skulls. We were between a rock and a hard place for sure.
I got a glimpse of Victor and Sherwood doing something by the side of the jetty using gestures and employing talent, I assumed. Eli was looking out at the water, gesturing frantically toward me, motioning with huge, sweeping arm gestures for me to come in toward him. The rocks underneath where they stood were particularly sharp and jagged; even if the waves didn’t crush me, I’d be sliced up before they could pull me out. Still, it’s not like he was unaware of that. I didn’t know what they had in mind, but sometimes you just have to put your trust in friends.
I kicked and swam directly toward the jetty, aiming for where they were standing. As I feared, before I reached it a wave caught me and sent me hurtling toward the rocks.
The wave lifted me up and slammed me into the rocks full force. I thought that was the end of me, but instead of receiving the crushing blow I expected, I sank into the rocks as if being thrown into deep, soft foam pillows. Sherwood and Victor had done a neat job on them, transforming their hard essence and making my landing safe and easy. Eli reached down with one huge arm and grasped me by the collar, much like I had grabbed Lou by his harness. With one massive heave he had both of us out of the water and back on the jetty.
I collapsed on the ground, while Lou coughed and retched up quantities of salt water. But nobody paid us any further attention, which was odd indeed. You’d think a simple “Are you okay?” would have been in order. Instead, they all stared out to sea in rapt attention.
“Do you see what I’m seeing?” Victor said.
He got no answer. I struggled to my feet and followed their gazes out to the horizon where the water meets the sky. My eyes were still blurry and stinging from the salt water, so I couldn’t see clearly, but I could see well enough to get a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach.
“Holy mother of God,” I said. “What is that?”
TWENTY-THREE
WE’VE ALL SEEN VIDEOS OF THE TSUNAMI IN Indonesia, an ominous line stretching across the horizon, inexorably pushing shoreward, an unstoppable natural force. This was similar, except there was nothing natural about it. It was huge, maybe a hundred feet tall, like an impossibly giant wave, but not made of water. It was a mass of seething, roiling, magical energy.
Only a practitioner would be able to see this; a normal person on the beach would notice nothing. And why should they—it would have no effect on them whatsoever. We weren’t exactly seeing it, either—not with our eyes. It was like auras on the psychic plane or wards around a house, but the sight was none the less impressive for that.
Swirls of energy circled ceaselessly inside it, occasionally breaking out like lightning forking from a thunderhead. It was dark but shot through with color, with the texture of a desert sandstorm. Patterns shifted and recombined into images, real as life one second, gone the next. I saw faces, impossibly huge; Aztec-looking symbols glowing gold and red; armies on horseback led by the four horsemen of the Apocalypse; a brook in winter running through a snowy landscape under a pale moon that took up the entire sky.
I saw an antlered God sweeping through the forest on a hunt; Native Americans trudging over an endless prairie; Mayans toiling on their pyramids, like so many specks of dust.
I saw a beach with children playing and bathers bathing, looking like a pencil drawing by Picasso, frozen in space and time but with movement all the same. I saw creatures that once walked this earth, and others that never did, and dogs, and cats, and long-lost friends.
I saw . . . everything, all at once, all history and all possibilities, jumbled together and timeless, eternal and haunting. A moment later, I saw nothing but a gigantic energy wave bearing down on us, dark and ominous.
Malcolm had said that the energy wave produced could well strip every practitioner of talent. I had only half believed it; such a thing was impossible to conceive of. But now that I saw it, my only doubt was if any of us would be left alive after it passed through.
The wall was closer now, and as it neared it gained in power. It didn’t seem to need Jackie anymore; it sucked energy straight from the ocean, feeding on it. The waves around the jetty slowly calmed as the energy left the sea until the water lapped gently at the rocky sides, and even the breakwater farther out barely caused the waves to crest.
Jessie had been staring at the energy wall as if mesmerized. Finally she tore her eyes away and called out to Jackie.
“Jackie! Stop, please. I’m begging you.”
Jackie heard her, because she flinched just a bit, but she didn’t hesitate for a moment. If anything, her gestures grew more expansive, and I could hear her singing with a high-pitched keening sound.
Our talent was useless now. Any energy we sent out would be sucked into that maelstrom like so many straws into a hurricane. Jessie didn’t try calling again. Her face was set and hard, and she stood motionless for a moment and then slipped off her backpack and knelt down. When she flipped open the top flap, Naja glided out, wrapping her tail around Jessie’s ankle to give herself purchase against the wind and water. Lou made a hissing sound, much like a snake himself, and backed away.
“You have an idea?” Eli asked her.
She ignored him as if he didn’t exist. Bending her head down close to the snake, she whispered to her at length. Naja reared up for a moment, almost as tall as Jessie, then lay flat and slithered toward the end of the jetty where Jackie stood. As she moved, her skin changed like a chameleon’s to the color of wet sand until it perfectly matched the rough and sandy surface of the rock.
She was almost invisible as she wove her way, head inches from the ground. The waves that had swept over the jetty were now gone, and although there were pools of standing water still blocking her way, Naja navigated smoothly around them.
I wasn’t sure what she could do—at this point a distraction would hardly matter, and Jackie had grown up with her in any case. It wasn’t like Naja’s sudden appearance would throw her off for more than a moment.
I stole a glance at Jessie, who was watching, expressionless, face like stone. Oh. Naja wasn’t there to distract Jackie—she was there to stop her. And there’s only one weapon that a snake possesses to stop someone.
I watched in grim fascination as Naja approached her. Jackie had her eyes closed now and had no idea anything was near. When Naja got within two feet or so, she reared up and spread her hood. Maybe she hissed, or perhaps a faint slithering sound penetrated Jackie’s focus, or maybe that sixth sense of danger kicked in. She whirled around, just as Naja struck.
The cobra’s strike caught her squarely in the throat, and Naja hung on for a moment before releasing. Jackie grabbed at her with her hands, and when she held on, Naja struck again. Jackie staggered back, now clutching her throat. The venom must have been injected straight into a throat vein, because it was only a matter of seconds before Jackie fell to her knees.
This was a distraction with a vengeance and came at a crucial time, just when the spell that would open worlds had reached its culmination. The wall of force moving toward us stopped, wavered, and then started to break up, releasing massive amounts of energy in random directions. The waves that had been so docile surged up, again with the fury of a hurricane-driven storm.
Jackie somehow staggered back up to her feet and stretched out an arm toward the energy wall in a desperate last attempt to regain control. The storm wall started to stabilize just a bit until Naja, partially freed from Jackie’s grip, struck a third time as Jackie tried feebly to ward her off. It was going to be a race between how fast the poison worked and how close Jackie was to completing the spell.
For a moment she stood motionless, as the wind howled around her. The waves lurched up even stronger than before. And then, suddenly, it was over. A giant breaker reared up, roaring and hissing, throwing up a huge wall of spray. It swept the end of the jetty clean, and after it passed over, Jackie and Naja were nowhere to be seen.
We all stood frozen in place, stunned. All but Victor. He grabbed my arm and punched Eli in the shoulder to get his attention.
“We need to get off this jetty,” Victor screamed, loud enough to be heard over the roaring of the surf. “Now!”
Lou was already halfway back to the shore before he finished his words. Jessie stood there, immobile, staring at the empty space at the end of the pier.
Victor leaned over and shouted in her ear, “Jessie! Move! You can’t do anything now.”
He grabbed her by the arm and roughly pushed her toward the beach. Her eyes focused on him and for a moment I thought Victor was in real trouble—Jessie’s not someone you can manhandle, no matter what the circumstances. But she just tore herself away, stared back for a moment at the place where Jackie and Naja had been, and then started running toward the relative safety of the beach with the rest of us.
One big wave hit Eli and knocked him off his feet, but Sherwood and I both grabbed him at the same time, keeping him from being swept into the water. Somehow we managed to all get back to shore without losing anyone, but it was close.
The wall of energy that had been advancing on the world was now in chaos. Huge streamers of energy shot out from it like eruptions from a volcano. Bursts of color exploded, shot through with lines of silver and patches of absolute blackness. It was like a Fourth of July fireworks barge had caught fire, and all the fireworks were exploding at once, whizzing off in random directions. And like a rogue fireworks barge, it was dangerous.
A giant crescent of energy shot straight up in the sky, then veered and headed right toward us. At the last moment it veered again, but came close enough so I felt the power of it pressing on my consciousness and vibrating like electricity running through my teeth. We crowded together instinctively like strangers caught in an unexpected blizzard. But that turned out not to be the best idea. Our huddled group made a small, compact target, and when another piece of the sky fell, it caught all of us as neatly as a teacup over a mouse.
Magical electricity coursed through my body. It sought out every nerve, every cell, every axon and dendrite. And went deeper still, until it coursed through my very DNA, squeezing and altering the very basics of who I was, what made me who I am. I tried to scream, but I had no throat, no lips, no tongue. I was pure energy, pure light, pure essence.
Then the light contracted until I was a concentrated globe, then a bright star, and finally a minute point of brilliant pulsing consciousness. Then even that contracted until everything went black.
TWENTY-FOUR
IT WAS A SURPRISE TO ME THAT I WOKE UP AT all. If I’d been able to formulate a thought at the time, I would have given odds against that. I lifted my head carefully, expecting any movement to set off waves of agony. But it didn’t—in fact, I felt fine. Tired, of course, but without pain, and with none of that confusion and muzziness that is the inevitable result of being plunged into unconsciousness. I felt a surge of triumph. We’d done it. Against all hope, against all odds, we’d saved practitioner society and come through it in one piece to boot. Not exactly the way I’d envisioned, but that didn’t matter, not in the slightest.
The rain had stopped and the sky had partially cleared. It was now early evening and there was even a bit of sunlight as the sun made a brief appearance, glinting off the water and dancing from wave to wave.
I stood up, still cautious, and looked around. Victor and Jessie were still lying on the beach, out cold, but Sherwood was stirring and Eli was already up and about, bending over first one, then the other. He glanced over at me.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“All right, I guess.” I looked around. “Where’s Lou?”
“He’s fine. He was sitting next to you, standing guard when I woke up.”
Victor suddenly opened his eyes, lay quietly for a moment assessing the situation, and then sat up quickly. It looked like we all were going to come through this okay after all.
“How do you feel?” Eli asked him, in exactly the same tone he’d used with me.
A faint unease started nibbling around the edges of my consciousness. Victor stretched, flexed his hands, got to his feet, and took several deep breaths, considering.
“I feel ... different,” he said.
The minute he said that, I realized I felt different as well. I couldn’t put my finger on what it was; I didn’t feel bad, but there was a sense of something not quite right, something missing. Like Victor, I felt ... different. Eli nodded gravely.
“I think I know what you mean,” he said. He pointed his hand at a piece of driftwood washed up by the waves. “I tried to change that, but I’m not very good at that sort of thing anyway. Maybe you still can.”
I didn’t like the implications of what he was saying, and neither did Victor. He concentrated, gestured quickly, and the driftwood remained obstinately unchanged. The unease that had been nibbling around the edges of my mind became full-fledged anxiety. I reached out and used some talent to whip up a little sand funnel, a beach dirt devil. But when I reached, there was nothing there. The level sand stretched away, serene and untroubled.
I tried another trick, then another, then a simple illusion. Absolutely nothing. Victor was doing the same, but stopped at the same time I did.
“Anything?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
The realization slowly dawned. We’d all lost our talent. The magical energy wave had been broken up and dispersed. Practitioner society was safe, unaffected—but we weren’t. We’d been caught in the fallout when it broke up.
Jessie was now awake, too, and watching us. She made a quick gesture, with no result. She nodded her head and walked away from us down the beach without a word. Victor started after her, but Sherwood grabbed his arm and shook her head.
“Not the time,” she said. “Leave her alone. How would you feel? In a single moment she lost everything—her talent, her Ifrit, and, worst of all, her own daughter.”
“But she saved everyone else,” Eli said. “All of us.”
“True. But I imagine that will be a grim solace.”
Sherwood was right. I felt bad for Jessie, but honestly I was more concerned with myself than I was with her.
“Do you think it’s permanent?” I asked Eli. “Losing our talent, I mean.”
“There’s no way to know for sure,” he said. “Time will tell. But given the nature of that awesome display of power, if I had to guess, I’d say it’s quite possible. But I just don’t know for sure.”
I couldn’t quite take it in. It was like unexpectedly hearing about the death of a loved one; for a while your mind is blank, unable to comprehend anything so huge and monstrous. Only later does it sink in and become all too real. And what about Lou? I remembered wondering what the Ifrits would do if their practitioners lost their talent. I looked around, but he was still nowhere in sight.
“You said you saw Lou?” I asked Eli again. He nodded.
“He was sitting right next to you.”
Well, he wasn’t next to me anymore. Maybe he’d been disoriented by the talent storm; even an Ifrit might have been affected by that awesome power. Maybe he was just around the rocky point, tending to some Ifrit business of his own.
I sat down on a rock, well away from the water’s edge. I looked out o
ver the water at the setting sun that turned the sky from blue to red and gold. The waves rushed in, gentle now and soothing, speaking of eternal tides and ancient shores. I knew Lou, as well as I know myself. He would never abandon me, no matter what. I calmly watched the sea and waited for him to return.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
John Levitt grew up in New York City. After a stint at the University of Chicago, he traveled around the country and ended up running light shows for bands in San Francisco. Eventually, he moved to the Wasatch Mountains and worked at a ski lodge in Alta, Utah. After a number of years as a ski bum, he joined the Salt Lake City Police Department, where for eight years he worked as a patrol officer and later as an investigator. His experiences on the job formed the background for two mystery novels, Carnivores and Ten of Swords. For the last few years, he has split his time between Alta, where he manages the Alta Lodge, and San Francisco. When he’s not working or writing, he plays guitar with the SF rock band The Procrastinistas and also plays the occasional jazz gig. He owns no dogs, although his girlfriend now has four.
You can visit him on the Web at www.jlevitt.com.
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