Magic, Madness, and Mischief

by Kelly McCullough

  Sparx replied in the tongue of fire, swearing sharply.

  Oscar ignored him to answer Cetius. “Perhaps later. For the moment he’s too valuable a lever for moving the boy. But you needn’t worry about him escaping. I’ve just the thing for that problem.” He set a heavy stone lantern on the table—it looked like something from the Japanese tea garden at Como Park.

  “That’ll do,” said Cetius. “Do you want to put him in, or should I?”

  “It’ll be gentler my way.” Oscar’s next few sentences came out slow and sonorous in what I presumed was the speech of stones.

  When he finished, there was a sharp fwooshing sound like a lit bottle rocket and Sparx was sucked into the lamp. The effect on his appearance was startling. Where he normally looked like a bright-red hare with the occasional wisp of flame curling through his fur, now he looked like a bright fire that only coincidentally resembled a hare. A moment later even that view of him was hidden as Oscar slid the stone shutters into place, cutting off the light of his internal fires.

  Oscar turned back to me then, and there was a nasty smile on his face. “If anything happens to that lamp, your familiar’s fires will go out forever. Any attempt on your part to do more than open the shutters will only result in his extinguishment. That wouldn’t exactly break my heart, so feel free to give it a go. But understand that the consequences will be your fault alone.”

  16

  Fireheart

  CETIUS BARKED SOMETHING in earthtongue and another half-dozen delvers appeared from the cave mouth. They quickly took positions on either side of me, like pallbearers at a funeral. Thick hands reached out and took hold of the edges of the surface on which I lay—their clawed fingers sinking into the rock as easily as if it were clay. With a sharp crack like a breaking bone, the stone lurched and rose a few inches into the air.

  As they carried me toward the tunnel mouth I glanced back and saw an enormous block of red granite. Whether my slab had been sitting atop it like a capstone or they’d simply split the top couple of inches off of the base I couldn’t tell by looking. But I felt in my marrow that it was the latter, that these badger-men could crack stone as easily as I might snap a twig.

  For another few seconds I could see Cetius deep in conversation with my stepfather, but then we made a turn and darkness hid everything. I don’t know how long we moved through the eternal night that lies beneath the earth, but eventually we emerged into a series of sandstone tunnels faintly lit by more of the phosphorescent mushrooms.

  After carrying me another hundred yards or so, the delvers stopped in front of an apparently blank section of wall where two more of their kind waited. There was a brief exchange in earthtongue. Then the waiting pair reached into the stone wall and silently pulled aside great sheets of it, opening a gap in the manner of theater curtains being drawn aside. Their action revealed a void in the rock like a small windowless room. My bearers carried me inside and lowered the slab to the floor before withdrawing beyond the stone curtains. A moment later the pair closed the stone behind them.

  Darkness absolute descended on me, like a great velvet weight. It pressed heavily on my soul, robbing me of the will to do anything. Breathing became difficult and I opened my mouth to scream. But nothing came out. Instead, foul darkness poured into me, filling my lungs as it clogged my mouth and nose and eyes. It felt as if I were drowning in cobwebs. I lost myself then for a long time, hours at the least—possibly days—while even the memory of light fled from my heart. Ages, it seemed, ages locked in silence and deepest night.

  * * *

  It was the rattling that brought me back. A faint sound like a breeze gently shaking the windows of an old house. At first it seemed to come from a very great distance. But ever so slowly, it got closer. And closer still. Finally, it sounded as though it was shaking the windows beside my bed, and not so gently anymore. I roused myself to do something about it, and only in that moment remembered that the room that held me now had no windows—and that indeed there was even an I to begin with.

  The cold paralysis that had held me earlier was gone now, and I sat up and groped sightlessly toward the source of the noise. It was somewhere near my feet, and I rolled onto my hands and knees to better search for something that I knew I needed without knowing what it was or why. It wasn’t until my outthrust fingers ran painfully into a heavy stone something that I remembered Sparx and the lantern they’d bound him in. Moving more quickly now, I slid my hands up the sides and found the knobs that opened the shutters.

  Light bloomed in the darkness and flames woke in my heart, the fire within reawakening and bringing me back to myself. It felt like returning from the lands of death as bright air filled my lungs and the weight of night fell away. I was once more a living, breathing child of fire, full of light and life and a terrible burning joy like nothing I had ever known before. I recognized the power within me then in a way that I never could have without first being drowned in the dark.

  I was.

  No. I am.

  Born of fire. Filled with fire. Fire itself.

  Rising to my feet, I pointed my palms at the curtain of stone through which I had entered the room and opened my heart. Rivers of flame shot from my hands, splattering the wall and covering it in a great burning sheet of red and gold. This was not like the rage-driven dragon’s fire that had destroyed my haven on the hill. This was purer and stronger, a flame that answered to my will instead of fighting it. Heartfire. Long seconds slid past as the flames poured forth.

  Roaring, burning, breaking!

  Falling, failing, receding.

  Flame could not conquer stone. Not even the fire of the heart. Not here, at any rate, and not now. The fires within me were insufficient to the task. My heart closed and I fell to my knees, drained, but not yet beaten. I could not break the wall, but I knew now that the darkness could not break me, either. Not while the fire lived inside me. Not while I lived.

  “Childe Fyre to the dark powers came.” The words were spoken in the tongue of flame and drew my attention back to the lantern and the burning hare within. “You are awake. Truly awake this time. Awake to who and what you are at last. You still have much to learn about control, but that was very well done. The fire that serves rather than the fire that masters.”

  I grinned ruefully at my friend. “That’s nice and all. Add a dollar and it might even buy me a soda. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem to do much for getting us out of here.”

  He shook his head and the flames danced through his whiskers. “No. The weight of stone is far too great here for brute force to free us. But there may be other ways to light our way out of this prison.”

  “I’m all ears.”

  “That’s my line, boy.” Sparx waggled his own then and laughed—a surprisingly happy sound.

  “You seem awfully chipper for a bunny caught in the lamp of death.”

  “That’s because I know something that the man who put me here doesn’t know.”

  I wasn’t following him at all. “What’s that?”

  “That I’m not really your familiar.”

  “And?”

  Sparx chuckled. “Yet.”

  “Huh?”

  “I’m not your familiar … yet?” He looked at me expectantly.

  “I am so not getting it.”

  Sparx rolled his eyes. “I swear, just when I think you’re finally turning into the bright young sorcerer you have the potential to be and I start to get excited about the prospect, you open your mouth and all my illusions melt in the mindless intensity of your jibber-jabber.”

  I gave him my best raised eyebrow.

  “Fine,” said Sparx. “I’ll spell it out for you…” He paused, as if waiting for something.

  I shook my head wordlessly.

  “Spell it out for you … That’s a pun, boy. Spell, like magic. Spell, like spelling … Oh, never mind. Look, I’m only half summoned. That means the spell that binds me to you is in a special sort of magical limbo. This lamp is a nasty piece o
f work. Under normal circumstances no one could get me out of here safely but Oscar. I don’t have the power to do it from within, and if you tried to do it from the outside, it would destroy me.”

  “I got that part, and I think maybe I’m starting to see the rest of it. You’re like Schrödinger’s cat.”

  He leaned one ear forward and one back. “That weird quantum physics thing where the cat is both alive and dead inside the box because you haven’t looked to find out which it is yet?”

  I nodded. Finally, I was getting it!

  Sparx sighed. “No. Not even a little bit. That’s physics. This is magic, which is much more like mathematics. It’s all symbols and proving that a thing that can happen is the same thing as the thing happening. Think of me as the variable in one of those ‘where is the train’ algebra problems. Until it’s solved, you don’t know what the value of X is, with X defining the position of the train. In this case, finishing the summoning solves for X where the value of X is out there with you.”

  Trying to make sense of that gave me a headache. “You know how bad I am at algebra.”

  “Well, I’m quite good at it, so you’re just going to have to trust me on this one.”

  “Fine. I trust you. Now what?”

  “Now, you summon me, there’s a big old popping noise, I end up out there with my full powers restored, the lamp implodes, and we bust out of this joint. Duh.”

  “Wait, I thought you didn’t want me to summon you because that would put you entirely in my power.”

  “That was before this lamp put me entirely in Oscar’s power. Given a choice between the two of you, I’d much rather have you as my Accursed Master.”

  “Your Accursed Master?” That sounded awful.

  He spread his ears in a sort of bunny shrug. “Yep. As in, ‘What is your will, O Accursed Master?’ I’m afraid that’s the traditional term, and we’re stuck with it.”

  “Not if I don’t summon you, we aren’t. I’m not anybody’s master, accursed or otherwise.” I crossed my arms.

  “That’s your sticking point? Not my being stuck? Not the summoning? Not me being bound in your power as long as you live? But Accursed Master?” He grabbed one ear in each paw and pulled as though he wanted to tear his head in half. “Fine, we’ll negotiate on the Accursed Master thing, but will you please get me out of here?”

  “You’re really okay with me summoning you and you becoming my familiar?” Because I wasn’t. We might not have started out that way, but Sparx and I were friends now, and I didn’t like this at all. It was too much like owning him, and I said as much.

  Sparx sighed. “No, truth be told, I’m not okay with it. But those are the cards we’ve been dealt, kid. We’re in a deep, deep hole here and there’s no way we get out of it with me at half power and you at half wit. Sorry, cheap shot. But seriously, this is the only way I can see to get out of this lamp soon enough to do any good. This scares the crap out of me, but we need to do it and we need to do it now. Are you with me?”

  “All right, but I’m releasing you from your summoning as soon as we get loose of here.” Sparx didn’t answer me, and I gave him a hard look. “There’s something you’re not telling me. What is it?”

  He shook his head very firmly. “Uh-uh. I need you focused for the summoning. It’s harder and more dangerous than it looks. Especially given the circumstances. And you’re not all that good with the tongue of fire yet. I don’t want you thee-ing when you should be thou-ing and turning me into a hamster.”

  “Then I’m not playing. You can rot in there.”

  “You know that’s not an option. If I stay in the lamp, you stay in the cell, and we’re both doomed anyway. My way, we’ve got a chance.”

  I didn’t move.

  “Look,” said Sparx, “I’ll make you a deal. You summon me, and I swear on my name that I’ll tell you all about it once you get me out of this box.”

  I sighed because I could see that was the best I was going to get. “All right, but once we’re out of here I’m releasing you.”

  “I’d prefer you wait a bit on that, because you have some very important work to do, and me remaining in your power will make those things much easier. But if that’s your choice at that point … well, I won’t be in any position to argue with you. Now, do we have a deal?”

  “Deal.”

  Sparx looked relieved.

  I held up a finger. “But I’ve got one question first. Why didn’t you teach me about heartfire earlier?”

  “The fire of the heart cannot be taught, it can only be found by looking within. You didn’t think I’ve been having you do all that quiet breathing and magical meditation for the fun of it, did you?”

  “Maybe a little, though I can’t say I was having any fun. I guess you were right, though.”

  Sparx sighed. “Of course I was. Can we move on now? I need you to listen carefully because you’ll only get one chance to do this right.”

  A few minutes of tutoring later and I was ready to make the attempt. First, I found a sharp edge on the granite slab and used it to gash my thumb. Using my own blood, I drew a two-foot circle on the stone and roughed in a number of ideograms around the edges—Sparx explained that I needed to create a place for him to be summoned to or the spell wouldn’t draw him out of the lamp. I’d never been gladder that I’d spent all those hours learning how to write basic firetongue. Finally, I opened my heart and traced over the whole diagram using the fire within to burn the blood into ash and bind it to the stone. It was time.

  I knelt in front of the circle and began to speak in the tongue of fire. “I conjure and abjure thee, *sprths*al*erarha. By fire and smoke, by ash and oak, by the flame in the darkness and the powers it awoke. Come to me now, no matter where you are. Ash and char, sun and star, wind and smoke, ash and oak!”

  As I spoke this last sentence, I felt each of the signifiers burn briefly on my tongue before it left my lips. “Ash” flew from my mouth to become a bright, candlelike flame hovering in the air on the far side of the circle—simultaneously a winking teardrop of flame and the ideogram for “ash” in the tongue of fire. “Char” followed, taking up station directly in front of me.

  “Sun” moved to my left and “star” to my right, defining the four points of the compass along with the first two burning ideograms. “Wind” blew itself to the northwest, and “smoke” drifted to the northeast. “Ash” again, falling in the southwest this time, and finally, “oak” standing like a pillar to the southeast.

  For a moment eight flaming symbols hung above the circle in front of me. Then, all together, they fell—dropping to land on the matching ideograms I had drawn in my own blood and bound to the stone with my heartfire—sizzling and crackling like fuses on the world’s biggest firecracker or a pan of frying bacon.

  SSSSS …

  BANG.

  BOOoooOOM!

  A hiss. A flash. A crash.

  All in an instant. The ideogram lights went out. In his stone prison, Sparx’s fire flared brighter than any lightning flash. An instant later, the hare appeared in the center of the circle, leaving a hole in space in the center of the lantern, which fell in on itself with a fierce implosion. A thick haze of smoke filled the room and my lungs.

  Blinded. Deafened. Choking on the dense black clouds … that’s where I should have been. Instead, I found the smoke easier to breathe than clean air and my eyes were undazzled by the brightest of flames, though my ears were ringing like a church full of bells. And there, in the circle in front of me, stood Sparx.

  I wanted to hug him, but I wasn’t done yet and this could still go wrong. Squeezing my thumb to bring the blood back to the surface, I held my hand above the center of the circle and let three drops fall on Sparx’s head, where they sizzled and vaporized like water spattered across a hot griddle. For the moment at least, he was still nearly as much flame as hare, looking much as he had in the lantern.

  “Ash and char, sun and star, wind and smoke, ash and oak.” Again, the words fell
as fiery ideograms from my lips, hovering in the air above the circle that held the hare. “Heart’s blood and heart’s fire, bind thee now to my yoke.”

  I really hated that last bit about binding him to my service. Doubly so since it came after I’d already gotten him out of the lantern, but Sparx had promised me that it was critical to the success of the thing, and that leaving the ritual unfinished could have catastrophic consequences for both of us.

  The words of binding rolled out of my mouth as a flaming chain. It curled and coiled in the air in front of me, extending one end forward to wrap itself around the hare’s neck and the other back to twist itself around my hand. For one beat of my heart the chain stayed like that, connecting us with links of fire. Then, with a bright flare and a burning pain where it touched the flesh of my palm and fingers, it vanished.

  Sparx sat up on his haunches and looked me in the eye. “Well, that’s that, then. I guess I’m stuck with you.”

  His words sounded fuzzy through the ringing in my ears, and it took me a moment to parse them. “No you’re not. I promised I’d release you from the spell as soon as I got the chance.”

  “I’d really rather you didn’t.” Sparx’s words had none of their usual lightness, making me instantly suspicious.

  “Why not? Is this part of what you weren’t willing to tell me earlier?”

  He nodded, and his flames dimmed, though they didn’t fade completely. Which was a good thing, since he was providing the only light.

  “Are you going to tell me now?” I asked.

  “Of course, that was my promise, and, unlike humans, we spirits are much more tightly constrained by even our most casual oaths. Would you let me out of the circle first, though? It makes me feel like I’m trapped in a bell jar.”

  I drew my still bleeding thumb across the ashen circle, symbolically breaking the line. Sparx let out a long breath and visibly relaxed.

  “That’s sooooooo much better. Hang on a tick.” Three hops took him to the nearest wall, where he gently pressed his forehead against the rock. It sank into the surface as easily as if it were water, and Sparx stood there for a couple of seconds before pulling himself out of the wall and returning. “I appear to be me again, which is an absolute delight.”