Now You See Me

by Debbie Viguié

  “Never.”

  A moment later he snuffed the light again. “It’s time,” he said, a finality in his voice that just added to her own fear.

  They slowly got out of the car and walked inside the building. As agitated as she was she kept her eyes focused on Mal, trying to memorize every angle in his face, the way he moved, the length of his fingers as they held her hand. In her heart she knew the attack would come while they were on stage so she would look at him while she could.

  Inside the auditorium there was noise and chaos as all the other contestants bustled around. Nervous energy filled the air and it was as though every other person’s anxiety only added to her own.

  “You can learn to block it, their pain, their fear, all of it,” Mal said softly, his eyes staring at her intently. “Learn to let it in only when you want to.”

  “Like you that first time you kissed me,” she realized.

  He nodded. “I had to share your pain. I wanted so much to understand, to help ease it.” His hand tightened around hers. “Instead I’m afraid I’ve just caused you more.”

  “No,” she said, turning to look at all the people scurrying around, oblivious to the life and death struggle that was happening around them every day. “You showed me how to live.”

  Suddenly she heard laughing in her head, deep, terrible, and then a voice filled with menace said, And now he’ll teach you how to die.

  32

  “Mal!” she gasped.

  “I know, I heard it, too,” he said, spinning around. “I don’t see anyone.”

  The hair on Opal’s body was standing on end. She kept looking at everyone present. No one seemed to be paying any attention to them.

  “Someone’s listening to us,” she hissed.

  “I know.”

  “How?”

  “It’s probably magic,” he said.

  “How do we stop it?” she asked.

  “I’m working on it,” Mal said, through gritted teeth.

  We should speak like this until I figure it out, he said inside her head.

  She shook her head helplessly. She didn’t know how to do that yet.

  He grimaced as he realized the problem.

  Try to limit the information you give when you speak.

  She nodded.

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the stage. Once they made it backstage he started systematically checking all of his equipment. She desperately wanted to ask him questions but instead just stood and watched everyone around them, looking for anything suspicious.

  Nothing’s been tampered with, Mal said inside her head.

  “Okay, everyone, gather around!” Bradley called from the stage.

  Mal took her hand and together they walked out to join the others. They all stood in a loose semicircle around the news anchor.

  “Alright, I know it’s a big night for everyone. There’s a lot at stake,” Bradley said.

  She blinked, how could he know that?

  “Ten thousand dollars is a huge scholarship to win,” he continued.

  Opal dropped her head. She had totally forgotten about that. She couldn’t even focus on that right now. Her only focus had to be on making sure she and Mal made it out of this alive.

  We should have run, she thought to herself.

  In the next breath, though, she knew it would have been pointless. They would have had to spend their lives running and in the end it still wouldn’t have been enough. She tried to force herself to pay attention to what Bradley was saying.

  “-water in the green room backstage if you need it. Alright, remember, do your best and have fun!”

  Everyone cheered and Opal belatedly raised her voice a bit.

  “We’ve got an hour before curtain, people!” the stage manager barked. In thirty minutes we’re going to start letting people in so you’ll need to be backstage and stay there in thirty minutes.”

  “I better go get changed,” Opal said.

  “Do you need me to walk you there?”

  “No, I’ve got it,” she said. She grabbed her bag and headed off.

  The bathroom was full and she had to wait a minute for a stall. One girl was in the end one throwing up repeatedly which did nothing to help her nerves.

  Finally a stall opened up and Opal changed as fast as she could. She made it back into the auditorium and found Mal standing next to his equipment. “I’m going to grab a drink of water. Do you need one?” she asked.

  He shook his head.

  She followed one of the other students to the green room. Bradley was sitting in there, reading a magazine. A couple others were there grabbing water as well. She took a moment and actually drank hers there before tossing the paper cup in the trash. Once she had she rejoined Mal on stage.

  “Alright, everyone backstage and stay there, we’re opening the doors!” the stage manager called a few minutes later.

  The next half hour seemed like an eternity of agonized waiting, not just for her but also for everyone else. It was amplified by not really being able to talk to Mal. He made an occasional comment inside her head but she could tell he was just trying to focus on where the threat was going to come from.

  She could hear a growing amount of noise from the auditorium as more and more people apparently came in and took seats. She couldn’t help but wonder if her aunt had gotten a front row seat.

  “Places!” the stage manager called and Opal tensed up even more though she wouldn’t have thought it possible.

  Just breathe, Mal told her.

  The crowd out front quieted down. A minute later she heard applause as Bradley took the stage. It was like every sense she had suddenly went into overdrive. She could hear Mal breathing, smell the shampoo he’d used on his hair, see the glitter in the ballerina’s hair even though it was dark and she was thirty feet away.

  The first act went on. She had no idea how the juggler did, but there were thunderous applause when he was done. She kept trying to take deep, even breaths, hoping it would help with the fact that she felt like she could see and hear everything around her. It was getting overwhelming, sensing so much. On top of that she was still feeling anxiety from everyone who was waiting to perform.

  As slowly as the last half hour of waiting had gone time now seemed to speed by as act after act took the stage and then finished in what had to be record time. Before she knew it they were closing the curtains.

  “Let’s move,” Mal said brusquely as he began grabbing equipment to move into place.

  As she picked up the chairs and moved them onto the stage she could swear she could feel the wood grain against her fingertips. She tried to block out the sensation as she hurried to get everything setup. Any moment now it would start. She had to be ready.

  And then everything was on stage and Mal was pointing to the trapdoor. She didn’t want to go. She was terrified that if she disappeared inside she’d be lost forever. Mal gestured more frantically and she yanked up the trapdoor. Heart hammering in her chest she lowered herself in. When she let the door fall down on top of her she was plunged into darkness.

  She didn’t remember it being this dark the day before and she felt like the space was closing in on her. Suddenly all went completely silent. Where she had been able to hear so much before suddenly she couldn’t hear anything. She began to panic and then into the silence came the beginning of the music for their act.

  Her muscles were vibrating as Mal strode onto the stage.

  “A magician, a man starts out alone, but there is only so much he can do. So, he begins to dream, dream of someone who can help him, who can share his passion, his pain. And so, he works, to give the dream form.”

  She heard the thud as he tossed down the hoop to become the hat. The music shifted to Sweet Dreams, sounding incredibly loud. She pushed up the trapdoor. Mal reached down and helped her out. She appeared to step out of the hat as they had practiced. His eyes were wide and she could feel the tension pouring off him. She let the trapdoor drop behind her and he moved
her to the vanishing box.

  She stepped in and then maneuvered behind the false wall. It started to spin and she dropped her bunny costume. Suddenly green lightning began to swirl around her. She screamed. There was a popping sound, a rush of wind, and she fell backward onto something sharp.

  She was in total darkness. Someone had teleported her. She got to her feet and put her arms out. Her hands hit a door. She found the knob and twisted. It was locked. She twisted as hard as she could, shouting. She began pounding on the door.

  The darkness pressed in around her and suddenly she felt something moving around in it. She lifted her left hand, hoping what she was about to do worked. “Illuminet cor!”

  The ring lit up, throwing red light around what looked like a utility closet. Two eyes glowed from farther back in the darkness. She reached behind her. She had to get out of there. Mal needed her.

  She twisted the knob and she felt lightning crackling between her fingertips and smelled ozone. Suddenly the knob seemed to release. She opened the door, jumped out, then slammed it shut and locked it again.

  She turned around. She was backstage, near the green room. She raced back toward the stage. She could still hearing the driving beat of Sweet Dreams. She hit the wings as Mal opened the vanishing box.

  He jumped back as green lightning shot out of the box. A moment later the man from the cemetery stepped out of the box.

  He traded places with me! she realized.

  She ran onto the stage to help Mal but she’d only made it a couple of feet when the witch who had tried to kill her before appeared right in front of her. The woman reached for her arm, but Opal jumped away. She turned and started running.

  Mal and the other man were trading lightning blasts all over the stage. Because of the mirrors and screens that were set up they were appearing and disappearing wildly. Over the music she could hear gasps and applause and realized the audience still somehow thought this was part of the show.

  The old woman appeared right in front of her again and Opal barely managed to spin away.

  All I can do is set frozen food on fire! she thought in dismay.

  And then it hit her.

  I can set things on fire!

  “Aestus!” she screamed as the old woman appeared again in front of her, standing next to the open door of the vanishing cabinet. Opal fell to the ground, and grabbed the woman’s ankles. She felt heat pour through her hands and a moment later the woman’s skin was turning translucent, with fire appearing to race just beneath her skin.

  Opal stared in shock as the old woman screamed in agony. She reached out and caught hold of Opal’s dress then staggered sideways and fell into the vanishing cabinet, taking the dress with her. Opal scrambled to close the door, having to throw her weight behind it to do so. The music was coming to an end, she realized.

  She staggered to her feet, wearing only her leotard now, expecting the music to stop. Instead it restarted at the beginning of the song. Whoever was running the sound system must have done it. She was grateful, hoping that the audience wouldn’t be able to hear the screaming from inside the cabinet.

  It stopped abruptly and a chill raced through her. She turned and her eyes fell on Mal. He was standing, panting. Her eyes darted around the stage. She didn’t see the man he’d been fighting. Maybe it was over. She started toward Mal and then suddenly there was a popping sound behind her.

  Something grabbed her, yanking her backward. A hard arm wrapped around her chest and suddenly the man was standing behind her, a knife to her throat.

  “Hello again,” he said in a deep, menacing voice.

  “Give me my opal back,” she demanded, realizing it had to have been him who took it.

  “Sorry, already gave it to the boss.”

  “Mr. Jeeter?” she asked.

  The man laughed. “Mr. Jeeter’s the least of anyone’s worries. They’ll find him in a day or two.”

  “Then who-”

  “Let her go!” Mal roared, striding toward them. A ball of fire that burned strange and terrible colors was floating inches above his hand.

  The man holding her actually laughed.

  “I said, let her go! This isn’t ordinary fire. It’s heart is napalm,” Mal roared.

  The man holding her stiffened, his arm tightening painfully around her chest.

  “He’ll do it!” she hissed.

  “If you throw it you will hit her!” the man shouted at Mal. He twisted his arm and tightened his grip even more. Tiny crystals pulled free of her costume and rolled off her toward the ground.

  Mal hesitated, the ball of fire in his hand.

  Just like that everything became so clear. She stopped struggling.

  Hit me, Mal, she thought to him, hoping he could hear her.

  His eyes grew wider and she nodded.

  He threw the chemically enhanced fireball. She watched it come toward her as though in slow motion. She knew if her plan didn’t work she was as good as dead. She could feel the heat of it as it neared. She threw her head backward and arched her back as far as she could.

  The heat singed her eyebrows as the fireball bounced off her leotard. It spiraled upward and caught the man holding her right in the eyes. He gave a roar of unimaginable pain and then collapsed, clawing at his face.

  She would never again question if the special flame repellant material was worth the price. She leaped toward Mal as blue lightning swirled around the man and Mal teleported him away.

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw someone dressed in all black, including a grotesque black mask, step out from behind one of the curtains.

  Come to me.

  She heard the words in her mind, spoken in a voice that was familiar but wasn’t Mal’s.

  Her head turned toward the man in the mask. She couldn’t stop herself from looking at him. And then suddenly she was walking toward him. She couldn’t stop herself. It was as though her body had a will of its own.

  He’s done something to me, she realized, panicking.

  She wanted to scream to Mal, beg him for help, but she couldn’t speak. All she could do was walk until she was standing in front of the man. He stalked around her and her mind registered that he was mirroring the moves Mal was supposed to be making as they prepared for the levitation act.

  When he finally brought his hand up and trailed it down her face she wanted to scream and hit him, but she couldn’t move. He had no right. He wasn’t Mal.

  Where was Mal? She couldn’t see him and she couldn’t turn her head.

  Stop it! she yelled inside, wishing she could make herself heard.

  “I hear you want your opal back,” the man said.

  Rage flashed through her. Tears of frustration welled in her eyes.

  “I’m afraid I have better uses for it than you do,” he said.

  He trailed his hand down her neck. Then, finally, he tapped her forehead and she fell. She didn’t want to, but there was nothing she could do. He caught her without even touching her, and levitated her up in the air.

  He sent her high up, ten feet, twelve. If he dropped her now it would be catastrophic.

  I won’t let him drop you.

  It was Mal’s voice.

  She rose higher. Then, slowly, she began to turn in midair until she was on her stomach instead of her back. She stared down below her, at Mal watching the other man, clearly trying to figure out how to best attack. Suddenly the man in the mask turned on him, as if remembering that he was there. He snapped his fingers.

  Opal regained control over her body a split second before she fell, plummeting toward the ground. She screamed.

  Mal threw his arms out and screamed something she couldn’t hear.

  And everything just stopped, including her fall.

  She blinked, staring in shock. She was three feet from the ground. Mal was still holding his hands out, panting with exertion. Everything else. Everyone else was frozen.

  It was disturbing, the absolute silence that had fallen. She could feel heat e
manating from Mal’s ring and realized that connection to him must be why she was still aware while everyone else was frozen. She could move, but it required more concentration than normal. She was able to carefully, swing her feet down until they touched the ground. It was awkward and she nearly fell sideways, but at last she was standing.

  Sweat stood out on Mal’s forehead and he looked like he was in terrible agony.

  “You did it. You stopped time,” she realized.

  “Help me,” he ground out, the words themselves seemingly almost too much.

  She turned and saw the knife that the other man had been holding to her throat. She grabbed it.

  “Hurry!”

  She ran back over to the man in the mask, wondering what she was going to do.

  “I’m losing it!”

  Sound began to come back, but it was distorted, slow. Opal was halfway between Mal and the other man. The man in the mask was starting to move his hand, a burst of energy came from it and she dropped just in time to let it pass over her. She slid, her feet slamming into the man’s.

  Suddenly everything was real time again. The man fell forward and Opal screamed as she twisted the knife around. It impaled him through the chest as he landed on top of her. She twisted with a scream and scrambled away as blood began to spurt.

  “It’s not over,” the man said. “Where we have fallen others will rise.”

  She blinked, finally recognizing the voice.

  “It’s the emcee, the man who was here twenty years ago,” she said as Mal came up beside her.

  He nodded, clearly having heard him, too.

  The man was dying. He brought his hands up and Opal backed away. He clapped his hands together and his body turned to ash on the spot. She put a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. Mal grabbed her hand and pulled her away, back to the front of the stage as the music ended.

  He spun her to the side. She didn’t know what he was doing. Then he bowed.

  The audience. She had forgotten about the audience.

  She turned toward them. They were on their feet now, applauding and cheering. All except her aunt who sat in the front row, a look of horror on her face, her knuckles white where they were clenching her armrests.