Destroying Magic

by David Meyer

  Tad made a face at one of the mirrors, then winced. “Holy smokes, that’s freaky.”

  “What’s freaky?”

  “Believe me, you don’t want to know.”

  He’d visited the archive in the past and hence, had some experience with its rotating traps. “Please tell me you’ve seen this one before,” I said.

  “No such luck.” He exhaled. “What do you make of it?”

  “It looks like a hall of mirrors.”

  “A hall of what?”

  “A hall of mirrors. You know, a fun house attraction.”

  He studied another mirror up close, then recoiled from it. “Doesn’t seem very fun to me,” he said, inhaling a sharp breath.

  I strode deeper into the room, searching for traps. After a short walk, I stopped in front of a tall, skinny mirror. It stood on a short stand. Its edging was made from gold, which looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in years. I gave the glass a quick glance. The surface swirled and I saw myself ten or fifteen years into the future. I stood in front of my workstation in Madkey’s kitchen. A ball of sticky doughcream rested before me. As I watched, the older me maneuvered a wand and issued a spell. The doughcream began to knead itself. Then it vanished and another ball of doughcream appeared.

  Frowning, I lowered my gaze to the floor. What had I just seen? It definitely wasn’t my future. Heck, I’d be surprised if I survived that long. And even if I did, there was no way I’d ever work at Madkey again.

  “Hey,” Tad called out. “Over here.”

  Hiking over to him, I noticed a small sign posted on stilts. The text, written in living ink, chilled my bones.

  “Welcome to the Hall of Souls,” I read aloud. “Know thyself … or die.”

  Chapter 57

  “Know thyself or die?” I exhaled. “Whoever built these traps was as twisted as they come.”

  “What do you think it means?”

  “Know thyself, know thyself, know thyself …” Deep in thought, I stood up. My gaze traced the room. There must have been over one thousand mirrors, all of them unique in terms of size, shape, and ornamentation. “What did you see when you looked in the mirrors?”

  “A whole bunch of stuff.” He pointed at three mirrors in turn. “In that one, I was back home, lying in bed. My mom kept checking on me and I’m pretty sure I was faking a stomachache. Over there, I was playing ramball in Madkey Arena. The stands were filled with all kinds of magicians, Structuralists and Chaotics alike. From what I could tell, everyone got along just fine. And I was a little kid in that one over there, dancing in the middle of a crowded street.”

  “Weird.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “I saw strange stuff, too. Different than yours. But still strange.” I thought about what Tad had described and what I’d seen as well. And I thought about the sign on stilts and its cryptic message. “According to the sign, we’re supposed to know ourselves. So, what if the mirrors show different versions of us?”

  “You mean different parts of our personality?”

  “Not exactly.” I paused, considering the possibilities. “This is the Hall of Souls, right? So, maybe they depict our potential souls. But only one of them shows the truth.”

  “Oh, I see. So, if I’m a big faker who likes hanging out in bed all day, I’d choose that first mirror?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “And if I chose the wrong one?”

  I glanced at the sign again. Welcome to the Hall of Souls, it read. Know thyself … or die.

  “Don’t,” I replied

  “Got it.”

  Splitting up, we began searching the massive room. Tad stopped in front of a short, skinny mirror with plain metal edging and gave it a quick look. Two seconds later, he broke off eye-contact and moved to another mirror.

  Meanwhile, I checked out an oval-shaped mirror, propped up by a cherry wooden stand. The glass appeared old and dusty at first glance. But when I peered into it, the dust melted away and a clear image appeared.

  I saw myself standing on a chair in the middle of Madkey Station Grille, trading spells with Boltstar. It felt so familiar, so recent that I thought I’d found the right one. My fingers reached out, stretching toward the glass.

  Then I saw something a bit off. This Randy’s posture was firm, unyielding, completely lacking in fear. His expression was one of cruel confidence. With reckless abandon, he threw spell after spell at an equally reckless Boltstar.

  Halting my fingers, I watched as one of the spells slipped past the headmaster. It flew another few feet before striking Piper. Eyes rolling into the back of her head, she collapsed on the Upper-Torso bridge.

  Horrified, I looked away. Only then did I realize I was breathing rapidly, my heart thumping against my chest.

  That wasn’t her, I reminded myself. It wasn’t real.

  My heart kept thumping as I contemplated what I’d just seen. Apparently, that version of me relished the opportunity to fight Boltstar. To turn the tables on him for all that he’d done, to kill him instead of the other way around. So, was that the real me? Possibly. After all, I’d sacrificed Piper to win that HMQ game.

  But the longer I thought about it, the more I came to doubt the mirror. Yes, I’d sacrificed Piper. I’d hurt her to win a meaningless competition. But I’d learned from that experience. I’d grown, evolved. Now, I couldn’t imagine myself doing something like that ever again.

  It made me wonder about Boltstar. What had twisted him into a monster? How had he come to physically attack those who held dissenting opinions from his own? He’d told me he’d done it to protect the magic community. And I believed that to a certain extent. But surely, he hadn’t always wanted to drodiate his enemies. Something must’ve happened to make him that way.

  I walked to another mirror. This one was framed by long lengths of curling ivy. The ivy stretched all the way to the floor, forming an elaborate, beautiful stand.

  I stared into the glass. It swirled into a liquid-like texture and then I saw myself, sitting on a field of grass, my back up against the wheel of a rickety wagon. A sign posted on the wooden siding read, Randy Wolf’s Magical & Amazing Wonders! Admission: Dirt Cheap at just Ten Quadrods!

  There was a faraway look in this Randy’s eyes. A red apple, big and juicy, filled his hand. In-between bites, he casually fired spells at a tall oak tree. The spells came at a fast clip, altering the roots, bark, branches, and leaves in various ways.

  One of his spells struck the tree and vanished. Immediately, the green leaves began to change color, morphing into a vibrant purple.

  That seemed to excite this version of me. Climbing to his feet, he trotted out to the tree. He pulled down a branch and removed a couple of leaves. As they broke free, their color reverted to green. A big grin creased his face and he chortled with happiness.

  My eyes left the mirror and the surface swirled back into a glass-like substance. The very idea of a traveling showman was ludicrous, especially in an era of memory mirrors capable of providing endless, cheap entertainment. And even if such a job existed, I’d never want it.

  I traveled around to other mirrors, seeing many strange versions of myself. Some were curious, others made me think. Some were even frightening. Regardless, none of them seemed quite right.

  “I’ve got it,” Tad shouted. “Over here.”

  I continued to stare at a pocket-sized mirror for an extra second or two. The glass showed me stripped entirely of skin. My insides were out there for anyone to see, which made for a unique, if unsettling, picture.

  Tearing my eyes away, I trotted across the room. Tad stood in front of an eight-foot tall mirror. It featured steel edging, one side of which was welded to the floor.

  “What do you see?” I asked.

  “An older version of me,” he said, his eyes locked on the glass. “I’m sitting in Boltstar’s quarters, only they’re not his anymore. They’re mine … I’m Madkey’s new headmaster! There’s a bunch of students with me and we’re just chatting. There
’s no homework, no tests, no grades. No stress or animosity. We’re all on the same side. Everyone’s learning what they want to learn.”

  “And …?”

  “And what?” he said. “Don’t you see? Taking back Madkey, running it the right away … that’s my life’s purpose. That’s what I’m meant to do.”

  Intrigued, I looked at the mirror head-on. The glass swirled into liquid and I saw myself. This version of Randy Wolf sat in a large auditorium, back straight and fully at attention.

  “Welcome to Magicology 9, ladies and gentlemen.” Professor Norch gazed out at a sea of freshmen students. “Before we get started, did anyone forget to bring a mug?”

  This Randy, along with his classmates, remained quiet. If they’d forgotten to bring their mugs, they sure weren’t about to admit it.

  “Very good,” she said approvingly. “Today, we’ll take our first look at one of history’s most esteemed spellcasters … Isaac Donaldson. Can any of you tell me something substantial about this esteemed wizard?”

  Magicology was the study of magic as the primary language of the magician. Its purpose was to teach students how to read and write Structuralist spells as well as how to talk about and listen to them. Typical coursework involved taking a magician from the Structuralist era and analyzing his or her use of spells in the context of the period.

  A couple of students slunk down in their chairs. Not that it helped much, given the auditorium’s stadium-seating. Only one person seemed eager to answer the question.

  I blinked in surprise as I saw my hand—well, Randy’s hand—shoot into the air.

  “Yes, Mr. Wolf?” she said.

  “Isaac Donaldson lived in England during the early part of the 1900s,” this Randy replied in a soft, confident voice. “He’s best known for helping to fully develop the Structuralist philosophy.”

  She beamed. “Very good, Mr. Wolf.”

  Slowly, I twisted my head away from the mirror. The imagery stopped and the liquid glass hardened up again. The mirror was a strong candidate. After all, I’d harbored a lifelong fascination with studying at Madkey. But was that really my true self?

  “I’m not sure,” I said at last. “I think we should … wait, what are you …? Tad, stop!”

  Tad, totally transfixed by the mirror, reached for its surface. His fingers touched the glass and it vibrated ever so slightly. Then, with a soft sizzle, it began to melt.

  “Ouch.” With a soft yelp, he jumped back a few feet. He wrung his hand, then clutched it close to his chest. I saw his fingers were bright red and raw, the outer layer of skin having been stripped away from them.

  The liquid glass dripped to the ground, then ate through the bottom portion of the steel frame. The entire mirror toppled into the sizzling liquid and quickly melted as well.

  “But that was the right mirror.” Still clutching his hand, Tad backpedaled across the room. “It showed my destiny.”

  “It showed you what you think you want,” I said, realizing the truth. “But not what you need.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Do you really want to take over as headmaster? Or do you just think it’s the right thing to do?”

  He bit his cheeks and said nothing.

  The liquid glass oozed toward a towering, magnificent mirror. This one was at least fourteen-feet tall and held up by a diamond-encrusted frame. Holding my breath, I watched as the liquid glass dissolved the frame like it was nothing. The large mirror fell into the liquid glass and turned into liquid as well. Just like that, the ooze doubled in size.

  “When I looked into it, I saw myself at Madkey.” My head twisted from side to side, searching for refuge. “Sitting in a normal class, being a good student. That’s all I ever wanted. But it’s not what I need.”

  The liquid glass swallowed up three more mirrors. Again, it doubled in size.

  We retreated to the other side of the room. Licking his lips, Tad eyed the molten glass. “You know what I need? A way out of here.”

  “What about the other mirrors? Did you see anything promising?”

  He shook his head. “You?”

  “I’m … not sure.” As I backed away from the searing glass, my thoughts turned inward. I thought about myself, about what really mattered to me.

  You’re a daydreamer, I thought. You’d never do well at school. You didn’t even like it.

  Tad looked at me like I’d gone crazy. “Earth to Randy. We need a plan and fast.”

  You’d never fit into a Big Three job, I told myself. You’d hate it. No, you were meant to do something new, something different. That’s why Chaotics appealed to you. You liked the idea of discovering new spells. Deep down, you’re a daydreamer, an inventor …

  “Randy,” Tad yelled in my ear. “Wake up, will you? We need to get out of here.”

  I came crashing back into reality. What was once a puddle had turned enormous, covering half of the room with over a foot of molten glass. Steam floated up to the ceiling, filling the rest of the room with insufferably hot air. It was difficult to breathe and buckets of sweat began to pour down my body.

  “Follow me,” I yelled, breaking out into a sprint.

  The liquid glass grew deeper and began to slosh upon itself, akin to the waves of a churning sea. Crashing across the room, it consumed everything in its path.

  “Go faster,” Tad yelled.

  Peering backward, I saw a sizable wave take shape within the molten glass. The wave grew taller and taller, until it stood some twelve-feet in height. Stretching outward, it curled over us.

  The steam thickened until I could barely see. Hanging a slight right, I galloped toward a hazy object. It was the mirror I’d looked at earlier, the one covered in ivy. The one that had depicted me sitting in a field with a rickety cart, chomping on an apple while trying out new spells. Chaotic spells.

  You’re a dreamer, I told myself. An inventor.

  So, maybe I’d never sit in an open field, shooting random spells at trees. And I was pretty sure I’d never work out of a rickety old cart. But the spirit of that scene, well, it seemed kind of perfect.

  The wave crested. Drops of sizzling glass burnt my skin. Taking one final stride, I leapt forward. Arms extended, I reached for the ivy-encased mirror. It buzzed softly.

  And then I was gone.

  Chapter 58

  Conveyance portal journeys are like snowflakes … no two are ever alike. This time, the route was extremely twisty. I shot around tight bends and loose ones headfirst and on my stomach. I plunged down short hills, twisted around, then plunged down much longer ones. Occasionally, I got tossed about so that I was going feet first. During those periods, I had to deal with Tad kicking my head. Not exactly fun. But hey, it was better than taking a bath in molten glass.

  Space unfolded upon itself with an ear-splitting crack and Tad and I hurtled out into the archive. We slid across the curved floor, scraping our bellies against the smooth stones.

  Feeling queasy, I rose to an unsteady footing. A few deep breaths calmed my stomach. Swiveling on my toes, I studied the giant spherical room.

  My gaze passed over the shelving racks that lined the curving walls. From my vantage point, I could just make out the massive Enter Here for Womigia sign.

  Boltstar was nowhere in sight. But I had no doubt he’d show up sooner or later.

  Wasting no time, we began to scale the shelves. The first few steps were easy, like walking up a gently sloping metal staircase. But as we gained altitude, they grew increasingly vertical. Even worse, they began to wobble under our feet.

  My teeth gritted as metal dug into my palms. My shoulders and thighs started to ache. As the shelves grew steeper, we switched tactics. Tad would boost me up to the next shelf. I, in turn, would help him up after me. Then we’d switch.

  We passed the halfway point. The shelving racks began to slope backward. We still helped each other, but our progress slowed considerably. More than once, I nearly lost my grip. If it weren’t for Tad’s stea
dy hands, I would’ve splatted against the floor for sure.

  “Almost …” Chest heaving, he pulled me up to another shelf. “… there.”

  Grabbing hold of a strut, I took a few deep breaths, catching my wind. Shifting my gaze, I focused my attention on the next shelf. It hovered above my head, with the edge jutting out over open space.

  “Want me to go first?” Tad asked between breaths.

  I shook my head. “It’s my turn.”

  Releasing the strut, I moved to the very edge of the shelf. Craning my neck backward, I took a good look at my target. Then I gathered my strength and pushed off.

  Flying up and backward, I stretched out my hands. My fingers latched onto the metal. But they were slippery with sweat and I found myself clawing for purchase.

  Terror welled up inside of me. And with it, I felt the distinct presence of magic. I couldn’t harness it, not without a wand. But I could feel it inside of me nonetheless.

  Steeling my fingertips, I managed to get a decent grip on the edge. Then I performed a pull-up, propelling myself onto the next shelf. My muscles were near exhaustion and my breaths came in short gasps. But my mind moved at the speed of a spell. Skinned or not, I was still able to feel magic, to access it. And yet, it had failed me during the fight with Boltstar. Why was that?

  Rising to my knees, I braced myself behind a strut. “Your turn,” I mumbled.

  “Lucky me,” Tad quipped.

  He propelled himself into the air. His fingertips struck the metallic edge and he began scraping every which way for a grip. Leaning forward, I grabbed his wrists. He kicked his legs and a few seconds later, I dragged him onto the shelf with me.

  While he caught his breath, I strode to the back wall. The sign, etched out of tarnished silver, was still there. Danger: Restricted Area, it read. Authorized Wizards Only.