The Floating Room

by Brian Olsen

  “It is,” Lily replies. “And if the book is destroyed, they’ll be trapped in those artifacts forever. And if the artifacts are destroyed, they’ll be killed.” She stands up and brushes herself off. “No. I’m sorry. Chris, I believe you when you say you don’t want to go back to being the Common King. But I can’t trust that it won’t happen anyway. Not enough to give you…to give him…a way to wipe out all magical creatures for good. Sorry.” She snatches up her brown paper bag. “I’ll keep my promise. I won’t tell Liefer about this. But don’t ask me to help you again.” She turns to go.

  “Lily, wait!” I call. “Andy? How is he?”

  She pauses, but doesn’t turn around. “You burned him really bad, Chris. He would have died if we hadn’t been there to keep him awake. He used his magic to heal himself. It’s been awful but he’s almost back to normal.”

  “Almost?”

  She stands there for a moment without answering, then continues walking towards the courtyard.

  I rip up some more grass. “Almost back to normal.”

  Alisa rubs my back. “He’s alive. You didn’t kill him.”

  “Not for lack of trying.”

  I lie back on the lawn and close my eyes. I like Andy. I have more than a slight crush on him. And I burned him almost to death. I mean, sure, he was trying to kill me at the time. But I could have burned his arms, or his legs. Instead I set his whole body on fire.

  Never again. Never again.

  Alisa nudges my leg. “Why did you lie to Lily about not remembering anything from before the Moment?”

  My eyes snap open. “What?”

  “I cast a lie detector spell before we sat down, to let me know if Lily was lying, in case she was still out to kill you. She’s not, by the way. She told the truth about everything. But you didn’t.”

  I sit up. “I didn’t lie.”

  She bites her lip. “You did, though. When you said the world before the Moment was a mystery to you.”

  “Oh.” I shrug. “I guess that was sort of a lie. I still remember what Miller showed me, with his illusions.”

  She nods, smiling. “Okay. That makes sense. You were telling the truth when you said you were still one hundred percent Chris, so I figured it had to be something like that.”

  “You’re not gonna keep that lie detector spell on all the time, are you? Because if I have to always give an honest opinion about your outfits, our relationship is going to suffer.”

  She laughs and punches my shoulder. “My style is flawless, jerk. And no. People have a right to little white lies, and I don’t want my friends thinking they always need to watch what they say around me.” Her smile drops a little. “So no memories at all? Because I get flashes sometimes, and I know Zane does, too…”

  “Nothing.”

  “Sometimes, when those flashes happen, I get confused as to whether I’m feeling what I’m feeling or I’m feeling what Ree is feeling, and if that happens to you—”

  “Alisa.” I take her hand. “No. I’m not getting any of the Common King’s memories or his personality. I’m not going the way Miller or my mom did.”

  Alisa rests her head against mine. “Promise me. Promise me if it starts to happen, if you feel yourself slipping, you’ll tell me.”

  “I promise.”

  She must have turned off her lie detecting spell. Because she believes me.

  I remember every second of every nightmare. Every moment I’ve witnessed of the Common King’s life.

  It’s not affecting my mind. I’m not lying about that.

  But if that changes, I won’t tell Alisa. I won’t have time. If I feel myself turning into him? If there’s no hope, and I can’t fight him off?

  I’ll burn myself to cinders before I let him out.

  Six

  The man shoves me roughly. “Stay away from her, boy!”

  I resist the urge to incinerate him. It wouldn’t help. I’m in the center of a medium-sized village, I forget the name. I may not have ever known it. It doesn’t matter.

  The man is protecting a creature. The creature looks like a beautiful human woman, with hair the color of green leaves, and skin the same shade as the bark of the oak tree she’s bonded to. She’s a dryad, or more specifically a hamadryad. She lives inside a massive oak tree and serves as its guardian. The village sprang up around the tree, and the hamadryad and the village residents evolved a mutually beneficial relationship. They protected the tree, and she protected them, and their friendship has lasted over a hundred years.

  That sort of thing really doesn’t suit my plans at all.

  I scan the crowd of villagers who’ve gathered at a wary distance around the tree. Muln, my illusion-casting friend, stands towards the front. Our eyes meet and he nods slightly.

  “She’s a monster,” I say. “You all know it.”

  “She’s our friend.” The man is talking more to his neighbors than to me. “What madness has fallen on you, to turn on her? Balanis has been with us since our grandparents were children. We grew up under her protection! Why would she turn on us now? This makes no sense!”

  “Please.” Balanis, the hamadryad, steps out from behind the man. Her voice is high and musical. “Please, my friends. I don’t know why these horrors have befallen our village, but we can see them through together, as we always have! You are as much my home as my tree is! I swear, I am innocent of these crimes.”

  Several people in the village have been murdered over the past few weeks. Muln and I killed them, of course, but with his illusion magic we were able to hide from sight, making it look as if we only arrived yesterday. Nobody suspects us.

  Killing the people had proved an interesting exercise. I couldn’t burn them, since a tree spirit wouldn’t get close to fire. We decided to stab them with sharpened branches, taken from the same type of oak tree as the hamadryad’s. I was the one who actually killed them, Muln was too squeamish. He kept us invisible, so it wasn’t hard to wait for somebody to be alone and sneak up on them. I found the first one harder than I expected — I’ve not had reason to kill many humans before, and I’ve never killed anyone at all without my logomancy. But it got easier. A few well-timed illusions cast suspicion on the hamadryad, when witnesses swore they saw her skulking around in the night, farther from her tree than she claimed to be able to roam.

  “She’s no ghoul!” the man says. “No ogre! She’s a dryad. Forget that she’s our friend, forget that she’s never shown us anything but love and kindness. When have you known a dryad to harm anyone?”

  I laugh. “They’re all alike, is that what you’re saying? I’ve heard elves say the same about humans.”

  He glowers at me. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. What reason would she have to suddenly start slaughtering us? There’s a monster among us, aye, but it’s not her.” He straightens. “You and your friend are logomancers, aren’t you?”

  “I am. My servant is not.”

  He makes a dismissive gesture. “He’s a child, a stranger, a logomancer, and a noble. Why are we listening to him?”

  The crowd murmurs. I’m losing them. I shouldn’t have called Muln my servant. They don’t care for the rich in these muddy little hellholes.

  “I’m a logomancer, yes. I’ve traveled our world widely, and I’ve encountered many creatures of magic. And I tell you, each and every one cares for humanity only so far as what we can provide for them. Yes, even the supposedly peaceful, even the hamadryads.” I take a step closer and point at the nymph. “She has used your community to shield her tree. Now perhaps she’s decided you’ve grown too populous for her to control. We’re just animals to her. Why not thin the herd?”

  A woman in the crowd shouts out, “She midwifed my child. He came out backwards. He’d have died if not for Balanis!”

  “She killed my child!” another woman cries. “Stabbed in the heart with one of her own branches!”

  “No!” a young man yells. “No, she wouldn’t! She’d never!”

  “I saw he
r,” an old man says. The crowd quiets to listen. “It breaks my heart to say it. But I was the first to find Slan’s body, and I saw Balanis running from it, back to the safety of her tree.”

  “I did not, Crav!” the hamadryad protests. “You found Slan outside the village. I cannot venture that far from my tree!” She focuses on me. “This logomancer has shown us proof of his power. His ability to command flame.”

  I look to Muln. He nods again.

  “He swears his servant is no logomancer. Are we certain this is true?” She puts a hand on her tree and closes her eyes. “I feel the Logos. I feel it being manipulated, and not by the boy. My friends, there is more here—”

  “Balanis, don’t do it!” a woman cries. “Please, he is my husband! I beg you!”

  The crowd has tensed. Some are crying, some are shouting in anger or in horror. The ring of people tightens around the tree, but keeps a safe distance.

  Balanis looks at the man who has been protecting her in confusion. “I don’t understand. What’s wrong, my friends?”

  The man looks equally bewildered. “Wife, I am well. What disturbs you?”

  His wife screams again. “No! No, please, Balanis! He spoke for you! Spare him!”

  The man and the dryad back up against the tree as the crowd slowly advances.

  “What madness has taken them?” the tree-creature cries.

  But they can’t hear her, or him. As far as the crowd is concerned, the hamadryad is using her protector as a shield. They see her fingernails grown into sharp thorns, which she holds to his throat. They hear her threatening his life unless they leave her be. In Muln’s illusion, she’s confessing to the murders, telling them that a few worthless human lives is a sacrifice they should be happy to make to ensure her continued blessings.

  The man’s wife grabs my tunic. “Please, logomancer! Please, save my husband!”

  I give her my most reassuring look. “I’ll do my best.”

  I can’t, of course. If he’s alive when the illusion drops he’ll tell them everything, and we’re not staying in this piss pot of a village forever.

  “Let him go, monster.” I step forward, out of the ring of villagers. “Take me instead. I will be your sacrifice.”

  “Have you all gone mad?” the man roars.

  “They do not see or hear us,” the dryad says. “The servant. He is affecting their minds in some way.” She leans back against her tree. “We are in my place of power. I may be able to disrupt his connection to the Logos.”

  Can’t let that happen.

  Man’s brain. I want you to melt inside his skull. Leave no outward trace.

  Sun.

  The man screams. Fire bursts out of his eyes and ears and nose and mouth, burning his flesh black. He drops to the ground, twitching, then is still.

  Damn. Killing people so precisely with magic is difficult. I need to practice more than just throwing fireballs around. There’s no mistaking his burnt ruin of a head for a stab wound. Ah, well, at least nobody could see it.

  The hamadryad cries out and runs to him. I give Muln another quick look.

  The crowd screams in horror. I’m excluded from the illusion and can’t see what they see, but I know what Muln and I agreed on. As far as they’re concerned, the hamadryad slit the man’s throat.

  “No!” I scream. “No, you foul beast!”

  I burn the tree. It explodes into a tower of flame which soars into the air, three times the height of the tallest building in the village.

  The hamadryad burns with it. She withers inside the fire, collapsing in on herself like a shriveling leaf.

  The villagers weep and hold one another as they watch their protector reduced to ash.

  I make sure the flames take the man’s body, too. There’ll be no sign of the true cause of his death.

  The illusion drops. No need for it now.

  I collapse to my knees next to the newly-widowed woman. “I’m so sorry. I should have been faster.”

  She falls into me. I comfort her as she weeps on my shoulder.

  The old man, Crav, rests his hand on my head. “It’s not your fault, logomancer. We should have listened to you from the start.”

  The weeping woman says into my ear, “Aye.” She sobs again. “My husband’s death falls on that treacherous monster, not on you. Bless you for saving our children from her. Bless you for that.”

  I hear Muln’s voice, but nobody else can. “Very good. That went perfectly. I think we can begin scaling up our ambitions, my lord.”

  I resist the urge to smile. It wouldn’t fit the moment.

  The woman in my arms vanishes. So does the village, the fire, the bodies of the two people I murdered. I’m in the barren plain. The floating room is above me. I’m on the tenth step, and I don’t feel like smiling anymore.

  My stomach churns. All that was just a test. To see if we could turn humans against a magical creature they loved. I killed so many innocents, and felt nothing.

  My foot is hovering over the eleventh step. From the floating room I feel the Common King urging me to climb to him.

  I won’t. I refuse. I will not give in to him. I will not let him loose on my world.

  I put my foot back on the tenth step. This vision, or nightmare, or whatever it is, won’t allow me to go back down, but I don’t have to go up.

  I wake up. My sheets are twisted and I’m covered in sweat and breathing hard. My alarm clock says it’s just shy of two in the morning. I take a second to catch my breath and come to my senses.

  During my nightmare I pulled the fitted sheet off the corner of my bed and knocked my pillow to the floor. I untangle myself and get out of bed to remake it.

  Someone is in my room. Sitting in the chair by my desk.

  “Sun!” The room floods with light.

  Mr. Liefer throws his arm up over his eyes. “Ah!”

  I create fire around my hands. “What are you doing here? Get out of my house!”

  “Quiet!” Mr. Liefer blinks and rubs his eyes. “Do you want to wake your father?”

  “Don’t you threaten him!”

  “I’m not threatening anyone! I’m here to talk, not fight.”

  “So talk!”

  He shades his eyes with his hands. “Could you dim that light before your neighbors wonder why you’ve got a searchlight in your bedroom?”

  Huh. I’ve never done this before. I’ve shot quick bursts of blinding light from my hands, but never continuous light filling a room. I don’t know if it’s good or bad that I learn new tricks best when I think I’m about to be killed.

  “Sun.” The light goes out. I meant to dim it, but it’s gone entirely. I hit the switch between the door and the bed and the ceiling light comes on.

  Mr. Liefer lowers his hand. “Thank you. You can douse the fist fires, too.”

  I flex my fingers. The flames dance around my hands. “I’ll keep them ready, thanks.”

  Mr. Liefer looks different than he did at school. He’s still the same imposing white guy with thin features and oily black hair, but he looks as exhausted as Lily did. And he’s not wearing his usual tailored blue suit with school-colors tie. It’s almost stranger to see him in jeans and a polo shirt than it is to see him in my bedroom.

  He nods at my flames. “If I were here to kill you, Chris, I could have done it while you were sleeping. Tonight, or any night I chose.”

  “Not instantly, not with logomancy. I’d have woken up and fought you off. Why not cut my throat, Mr. Liefer? Too squeamish?”

  He stands up. “Mr. Palakiko and Mr. Ambrose are close by. I can teleport them here instantly. Do you really want to start a fight inside your house? With your father asleep a few feet away?”

  There’s a bead of sweat on his forehead, and it’s not from my flames.

  He’s not threatening me. He’s afraid of me.

  I put out the fires and his posture relaxes.

  And I’m just now realizing I’m alone in my bedroom with my headmaster and I’m only wearing box
er shorts. I grab a t-shirt from off the floor and throw it on, then sit down on my bed and pull the sheet over my legs.

  “Why are you here, Mr. Liefer?”

  He walks to my window. “I assume you saw Lily today.”

  “Yeah. I was surprised to see her.”

  “She wanted to be back with her friends. Back in her old life.” He snorts. “Or new life, rather. You know what I mean. I don’t blame her. Tell her that, if you get the chance. Tell her there are no hard feelings.”

  I don’t show any reaction. Lily is supposed to be spying on me for Liefer, but the cover story is that she left his crew. He doesn’t know Lily told me everything.

  “I will. Is that all you wanted?”

  He sits, perched on the windowsill. “No. I have a plan. A proposal.” He frowns. “I’m not certain if I’m doing the right thing by telling you. But it will go easier if you agree to it.”

  “Okay. I’m listening.”

  “I’ve been watching you these past two weeks.”

  I nod. “I figured you would be. Didn’t think you’d be in my room at night watching me sleep, though. It’s a little creepy.”

  He shrugs. “I’m doing what’s necessary. But I believe you honestly don’t want to have your memories of the Common King restored.”

  “I don’t. I’m Chris Armstrong and I’m going to stay Chris Armstrong.”

  “Good. Then here’s what I propose. All of the logomancers who cast the original spell are somewhere in Charlesville. I don’t have enough of my memories back to remember who they are, but Mr. Ambrose and I are working on that. Once we’ve found them and restored their logomancy, we’ll recast the original spell. Without the last-minute disruption from your servants, the Moment will take hold fully, as it was meant to. We can even make a few tweaks, now that we know what the world without magic looks like. Make a better world for ourselves this time. And, with your assistance, I think we could erase the Common King completely from your mind, not just bury him.” He takes a breath. “How do you feel about that?”

  “I’d lose my magic?”

  “Yes. We all would.”

  “And the magical creatures?”