The Ghost Bride

by Stacey Keystone

  "You were always weaker," Mahalat said. "Undeserving of your talent. A coward. You could never fight me. Confront me. And you think you can do it now, just because you kicked me out of the family? I've got news for you, Azzie: even with all the growth you've experienced, you're still weak. Still incapable of anything."

  I could see, by the sweat running through uncle Azzie's neck, that he was struggling. Was Mahalat that powerful?

  When the spell dissipated, uncle Azzie's sighed, relived, only for Mahalat to smile and wave again, releasing another spell. By the tension in uncle Azzie's back, I could see this one would be harder.

  So I did what I did with Martinus. I gave uncle Azzie my energy. Family members are already compatible with each other's energy, right? I didn't need a kiss; I just placed my hand on his neck, skin touching skin, taking all the energy I had, and giving it to him.

  The barrier withstood Mahalat's spell. I could feel my energy in uncle Azzie, assimilating, being used in the shield, while I was standing behind him, my head almost touching his back, as protected as I could be.

  "So, my daughter is now helping my brother fight against me," Mahalat said, "how touching. But she's just an inexperienced fledgling. Do you expect her help to work?"

  Uncle Azzie did not answer, using my energy to dissolve the spell and directing a new one towards Mahalat. Mahalat playfully absorbed it and then directed a new one towards us.

  "Unless… You don't expect to win, do you? You're waiting for your underlings to come. And then you will catch me. You were always a coward, Azzie. Always using other people to do your dirty work…"

  My uncle said nothing, maintaining his attacks, not responding to Mahalat. Until something changed.

  "Police! Surrender and you'll live!" Said Colonel Yaldai's voice.

  Mahalat turned around and started running away. And then I noticed something in my uncle. I could feel my magic inside him, I could see what he was doing. And that's how I felt, how my uncle… released the barriers that were preventing Mahalat from portalling away. It was very subtle magic, and I'm sure nobody noticed it but me. I was attuned with my uncle's magic at that moment, feeling his body almost like mine, the similarity in our energies making me sensitive to every small change.

  Why did my uncle release Mahalat? By the look he gave me, I could see that he was aware I knew.

  When Colonel Yaldai came towards us, swearing profusely, my uncle firmly grabbed my arm, holding me.

  "It seems he escaped," Colonel Yaldai said, intermingling it with some less nice words. Then he paused. "I'm sorry, miss Morad. Shouldn't have sworn in your presence."

  "It's OK, Colonel," I said. "Right now, I'm much more worried about my fiancé."

  "The Healers are treating him right now," Colonel Yaldai said. "He'll be fine. Meanwhile, Miss Morad, care to tell us what happened here?"

  I was about to open my mouth when I noticed I couldn't make a sound. I furiously looked at my uncle.

  "I will debrief my sister personally," uncle Azzie said. "She's gone through a big shock, and right now she needs to be with her family. If you'll excuse me."

  "But I need to write a report… And the paperwork," Colonel Yaldai said.

  "Don't worry," uncle Azzie said, "I will write the report myself."

  "Isn't this wrong, sir?" Colonel Yaldai said. "She's your family, after all."

  "Report me to my superiors," uncle Azzie shrugged, "but right now I'm taking Amy back home."

  And he dragged me, silent, unable to say a word, toward the portal. Grandpa caught with us on the way, after I furiously tapped a message in my vizor.

  "Amy? Why did you write that Azzie is kidnapping you?" he asked.

  "Is that what she wrote to you?" uncle Azzie said. "I'll tell you everything at home."

  "Why did you silence her?" grandpa asked.

  "I have a good reason," uncle Azzie said. "She sometimes blabbers too much. I will explain it all at home."

  Grandpa, the traitor, said nothing, and merely asked uncle Azzie not to drag me as forcefully.

  I wasn't kicking and screaming when we reached the portal, but only because I couldn't scream. I kicked uncle Azzie a couple of times, though. The blow was softened by all the layers of petticoats, but still, I could see he felt it.

  After dialing in the coordinates, the pushed me on the portal first.

  I stepped down from the stone, regaining my ability to speak. The house dissolved the spell.

  When uncle Azzie and grandpa came, grandpa first, uncle Azzie second, I was furious.

  "Do you know what he did?" I hissed at grandpa, pointing toward uncle Azzie. "He let Mahalat go! I felt it. He released the barriers that were holding him, letting him go."

  "Azzie?" grandpa asked, looking at uncle Azzie, with a question in his eyes.

  "I did," he said. "Because of what Amy asked me to."

  "I don't remember asking you to release him," I said. "I asked you to catch him."

  "No, the other thing," uncle Azzie said. "The reason you gave me. About wanting to save your brothers and sisters. Your potential brothers and sisters. And all other children Mahalat may torture."

  "So?" I asked. "If you caught him, you'd save them. You'd save them all."

  "Things aren't so simple, Amy," uncle Azzie said.

  "Why?" I asked. "Because of the way I see it, it's all pretty simple. My biological father is a criminal who conducts experiments on people, we need to catch him, you didn't."

  "I did it to avoid even more Mahalats," uncle Azzie said, his hands defensively interlocked in his chest. "You're a smart girl, Amy. Do you understand what will happen if my brothers' notes are found?"

  "He will be found guilty of the crimes he committed?" I asked.

  "And executed; and good riddance it will be," my uncle said. "No, that's not the reason I want everything about my brother to remain secret. Why I don't want him to be caught."

  "It isn't?" I asked.

  He seemed sincere when he said the good riddance part. So what was he after?

  "My brother is a genius," my uncle said. "I don't know how he created you — but he did. And do you know why he did it?"

  "He mentioned last time — that it was because there are so few high magicians. That he wants to re-create the race. Preserve magical talents," I said, trying to remember what he said. It's not like I listened, because the main point of my conversation with him was to drag the conversation as much as I could.

  "Exactly," Azrikam said. "But the thing is, many people believe the same as he does. That the gradual disappearance of our race, of all the high magicians, is a tragedy. And the main reason nobody was doing anything was because they didn't think it was possible. Mahalat showed it was. Do you think, once Mahalat's archives are in the hands of the police, and are used as evidence in court, that those files will be just destroyed?"

  "No," I said.

  Knowledge is power. You destroy other people's knowledge to gain power over them. But knowledge only you know, only you can control… That was too tempting.

  "You believe… That as soon as Mahalat's experiments are made available to the Magic Council, somebody there will try to create a baby factory. To do what they did to me, to create as many high magicians as they can. Outside the control of families, clans," I said, horrified. "Perfect soldiers brainwashed and so powerful only the strongest families could push against them. Only the families don't have unlimited capacity, and they could just keep manufacturing children."

  "Exactly," Azrikam said. "Nobody lets go of power easily. So we need to destroy all of Mahalat's files. Kill him before he is captured, because somebody in the council may be tempted to pardon him in exchange for his knowledge."

  "But… If we do that… Won't the same people who want to access that knowledge destroy us?" I asked.

  "I might have to resign from the Council," Azrikam shrugged. "But I don't mind. The thing is, the people in the Council aren't idiots. They'll realize that once the genie is out of the bottle, they can't
keep it controlled. It's better for them if nobody has that knowledge. They won't raise too many waves, although they'll raise some."

  "What do we do then?" I asked, leaning on the wall, my knees shaky.

  "What I said," uncle Azzie said. "Kill him. If we catch him and give him to justice, it will be too tempting to too many powerful people to pardon him. Or to imprison him somewhere, learning his secrets. We need to kill him, or at least keep him from being caught by the powerful and influential figure that would take his experiments to another level. And destroy his notes. All of them."

  "I don't want to be a murderer," I said, feeling a pit in my stomach. I knew uncle Azzie was right. Doing it, however… I couldn't imagine myself doing that.

  "Who said anything about you?" uncle Azzie said. "No, Amy, you've got no place in this fight. You should study and date your fiancé and have a wonderful time with your friends. Leave the dirty work to us."

  "He's right, Amy," grandpa said, firmly. "I agree with him. You're too young, too inexperienced, too naïve…"

  "And I'm a woman," I finished for him.

  "Yes," grandpa said. "I know that in your world, women also fight, but in this world, we don't let women fight men's battles. I won't allow it. Leave this to us."

  I considered it, looking at them, leaning on the wall. I could see, by the conviction and righteousness of their expression, that I couldn't win this argument. I could fight this, try to convince them to let me join them, making them imprison me, keeping me under their thumb, hiding things from me… Or I could pretend to acquiesce. That would make it easier for me to get what I wanted.

  "Sure," I said. "Can I call Mrs. Novak? I want to visit my fiancé."

  "Sure," uncle Azzie said, eyeing me with suspicion.

  He had excellent reason to. I wasn't giving up, nor was I going to allow them to exclude me. But for the moment, I needed more time, more skills, more knowledge, more allies. I couldn't do this on my own.

  When I called Mrs. Novak to inquire whether Martinus was alright, she was shaken, but she told me to come.

  Grandpa accompanied me to the Novak's house, where a Healer was helping Martinus recover. It seemed like he was conscious now, trapped in a healing sphere, frowning from the pain and discomfort.

  "Marty!" I said, running to his side and stopping before I crossed the sphere. "Are you alright? How are you feeling? I'm so sorry this happened to you…"

  "He'll be alright by tomorrow," the Healer said, "if you don't disturb him. It's just a minor concussion. I've finished the work, now he just needs to rest."

  "Amy," Martinus said, trying to sit up.

  "Don't move, Mr. Novak."

  "Stay put, Marty," I said. "I'll stay right here with you, on that sofa, until you get better."

  Grandpa sighed, obviously thinking about decency and rumors and whatnot. I ignored him.

  "Make sure he rests, Miss Morad," the Healer said. "Your fiancé was injured quite badly."

  "I will," I said, moving the armchair so I could sit right next to Marty's bed.

  "Call me tomorrow," the Healer said. "And I'll check on him again."

  "Thank you, Mr. Flaum," Mrs. Novak said. "I'll escort you out."

  And she left us, me sitting in front of Martinus, grandpa standing there, and Martinus staring at me intensely.

  "I'll leave you here," grandpa said. "But come back home tomorrow."

  "I will," I said, "once I'm sure Marty's right."

  Grandpa nodded and left us.

  I looked at Marty. For some reason, seeing him like this, weak, bound, made me realize all the feelings I felt when he was wounded. I had no time to think about it in the heat of the moment, but now… I tasted something salty. My eyes became itchy. I started crying, quietly sobbing, trying to hide it from Marty.

  "Amy…" he said, his expression pained. I saw that he was trying to reach for me, to console me.

  "Don't move," I said, taking a handkerchief out of a pocket and drying my eyes. The handkerchief remained clean, despite all the mascara weighting my eyelashes. It was magical. "You fool. He would not do anything to me. Other than kidnap me. But you… Why did you have to confront him? Don't you know he is stronger than you?"

  "I was trying to protect you," he whispered, his voice becoming croaky.

  "Don't speak," I said. "Go to sleep. I will too. Just get comfortable."

  I spread a blanket over myself, and lay there, with my eyes closed, hoping Marty would follow my example. It seems like it worked, because I noticed his breathing pattern slowing down, him relaxing. I think I also fell for my trick, eventually falling into the darkness.

  The next morning, I was in bed, with a rather hard pillow under my head. I tried to roll away and grab another one, but then I felt an arm pinning me on the spot.

  "If you roll, you'll fall," Marty's voice said.

  I opened my eyes. He was lying next to me, his head resting on his elbow, his other hand firmly holding me.

  I freed myself from his hand, rolling him over until he was lying on his back, me sitting beside him.

  "Are you feeling well?" I asked. "And how did I end up in the bed? I remember sitting in the armchair. Don't tell me I sleep-walked."

  "I won't," Marty said. "I couldn't allow a lady to sleep on a sofa while I slept on the bed. So when the effect of the healing sphere exhausted itself, I pulled you into the bed."

  I slapped his shoulder.

  "The Healer said you should rest," I scolded him, "not chug people around. I'm fine. It wouldn't be the first time I slept on a sofa."

  "Resting in bed will be much easier," Marty said, "if you are lying in bed with me."

  "I don't think the activity you have in mind counts as 'rest'," I countered, not mollified in the slightest.

  "What activity?" Marty asked, pulling my head towards his chest. "I just wanted to lie like this."

  I rested my head on his chest for a bit, feeling his warmth.

  "The Healer will come soon," I said. "And Pops and Mother, too. They will say something."

  "Let them."

  "And they won't allow us to stay alone anymore," I then said.

  He freed my head, and I sat. Before sliding down from the bed, I gave him a brief kiss, barely a peck on the lips.

  "That's it?" he complained, not trying to impede me getting out of the mess of petticoats and bedsheets and blankets, but not helping either.

  These dresses are not designed to sleep in them.

  "Yes," I said, finally getting out of the mess, my skirt twisted, my bodice untied. I don't remember untying it yesterday. I gave Marty another look.

  "It was too tight," he said. "I thought you needed some help breathing."

  "Right," I said, my disbelief obvious.

  Grandpa and Mrs. Novak came in as I was tying the lace in my bodice. And I don't even want to think about the mess my hair must be.

  "Good morning, Amy," Mrs. Novak said, "Martinus. I see you are awake and well."

  "Yes, mother," I said. "Good morning, Pops. Now that I see this joker is alright, I think I need to go home. Remove this damn makeup and change to something more comfortable. He'll be alright."

  "Why don't you stay?" Marty asked. "Have breakfast with me."

  Breakfast sounded like something dirty in his mouth. I gave him a look 'not in front of our parents', and grabbed grandpa's arm, going towards the exit.

  "I'll visit you during the winter holidays, Mother," I said.

  "See you, Amy," she said, before sitting by her son, her face that of a person preparing to scold somebody.

  Epilogue

  I was glumly staring at the board. All that effort, all those nights practicing magic, all the afternoons reading book after book, studying, memorizing, making notes, until my mind could take no more, and for what? I wasn't the worst in every subject, and I passed all of them, but, overall… The results were pitiful.

  I suddenly felt a couple of hands of my waist, hugging me from the back, my head rested on somebody's shoulder, as h
is mouth leaned on my ear.

  "You lost the bet, Amy," Marty said. "What were you supposed to do if you lost?"

  "Nothing," I said, freeing myself from his hug and turning to face him. "Since it wasn't a bet. It was a one-sided promise. You didn't agree to anything, and I didn't agree on anything. I merely asked what you would do if I were better than you."

  "And that was a mistake," Marty said. "I could have gotten something better out of this."

  "I already thanked you for all the help you gave me," I said, "but I'll say it again. Thank you for helping me study." To sweeten his apparent disappointment, I leaned on his shoulders and tiptoed, giving him a brief kiss on the lips.

  "That's it?" Martinus complained.

  "We're in a public place," I pointed out, looking around. Quite a few onlookers were looking at us with curiosity. Not too much, since we were considered a settled, square couple, but still. If we started passionately making out, people would notice.

  And it would reach Pops' ears. And Azzie's. Or worse, Mrs. Novak's. She'd hear wedding bells.

  "You're right," Martinus said, looking around, trying to scare the onlookers away. It wasn't working; they got closer. I laughed and grabbed his hand, taking him towards the Hall.

  "So," I said. "The first semester is over. I am transferring out of the Distance Department and I will start coming to the Academy as a normal student. I will finally sleep now."

  "And what about Erynn?" Martinus asked.

  "Erynn only needs me for a couple of hours every evening now," I said. "I will be portalling daily anyway since Pops won't let me stay at the dorms."

  "So you will have less time to study now," Martinus said.

  "I will," I said. "But it was getting too much. Pops even called a Healer, he was so worried that I may collapse of exhaustion. Thankfully, I didn't. But still. I was told I need to get some actual sleep now. Let my mind rest and do nothing."

  "Other ghosts don't seem to be as tired as you are," Martinus said.

  "The other ghosts probably didn't have to study as much as I did, deal with as many issues, or have to figure out things they'd never heard of. They all started from a better base; they passed the exam for a reason. I'm still behind everybody. As you can see, I only beat a couple of rich kids who paid their way in. And, since I don't remember their names, I don't think they even ever came to class. One of them still got better grades than I at History of Magic."