All Bethany could see was the ceiling as if she were looking at it through a telescope. Even as she struggled, something within her grew almost calmer as the ceiling got smaller and smaller, blackness folding in around it. Weirdly, it occurred to her that this must be tunnel vision, even as the tunnel of her sight began to collapse in on itself.
Then she slammed into the floor and suddenly could breathe again. She gratefully sucked in as much air as she could as her head pounded. What had happened?
“I said, stop,” said Kiel from somewhere in front of her.
Everything in the room dimmed except for the Magister, who glowed from deep down inside. “What do you think you’re doing, apprentice?” the old wizard said, his voice low and dangerous. “I would not have hurt the girl. But I need her power, and cannot take it while she defies me. You must understand what—”
The Magister abruptly went quiet, only to groan from a lot farther away than he had been. Bethany pushed herself up so she could see what was happening, and found Kiel holding double magic wands that looked like they’d been sharpened into knives. The wands pointed at the now crumpled form of the Magister where he’d just slammed into the far wall.
“That’s going to cost me at chore time when this is all over,” Kiel said. He turned to Bethany and winked. “Look, I get it. You’re impressed with me, and probably dumbfounded. It happens. But don’t just sit there. Maybe do something a little more useful than jumping into blank sheets of—”
He didn’t finish his sentence; instead, he rocketed up into the ceiling, then down onto the floor, back and forth like a pinball machine.
“You will not raise your hand to me, boy!” the Magister said, stopping Kiel in midair. “After everything I have done for you? All the years of teaching and raising you as if you were my own?”
“This from the guy . . . who said none of that . . . was real,” Kiel said to Bethany, cringing in pain. “Wouldn’t that mean . . . all those years of being my guardian . . . didn’t happen either?” He forced a grin, then aimed his twin wands at the Magister and mumbled something. Instantly, lightning launched from the tips of the wands directly at the older magician.
The Magister raised his hand, and the lightning absorbed right into his palm. “Always playing the hero, aren’t you, Kiel? In your own mind, if nowhere else. But this isn’t our world anymore, and things have changed. You’re protecting a girl who has the power to save everyone and everything you know. She could end all the conflict back on Magisteria, end all the pain!”
“Weren’t you going to do something?” Kiel asked Bethany, only to shout in surprise as hundreds of tiny imps appeared out of nowhere, holding his arms out to his sides to keep him from using his wands.
“. . . . um,” Bethany said, and grabbed the blank page from the floor where it’d landed, then sprinted as fast as she could up the stairs.
“You’re lucky I’ve got this!” Kiel yelled after her, struggling against the imps as they tried to pry the wands out of his hands. “Anyone else would probably be worried right now!”
How was he still making jokes while being attacked? That was so like a book character, to say clever lines while crazy things were happening. Bethany didn’t waste her time responding as she pushed her way up the stairs, only to almost fall back down them as the Magister exploded through the floor, holding Kiel in midair as he turned to face Bethany.
“You cannot leave, Bethany,” the Magister told her, his eyes glowing. “I must have your power!”
“Shouldn’t you be . . . worrying more about me?” Kiel yelled at the Magister, despite not being able to move due to the imps. “I don’t need . . . my wands to . . . beat you.”
“Is that so?” the Magister said, and the imps finally pulled Kiel’s wands out of his hands and dropped them onto the ground in front of the Magister. “And what magic have I taught you that could possibly defeat me?” He bent down to pick up the dropped wands.
Kiel half smiled. “Let’s call it the magic of planning ahead.”
One of the wands exploded in the Magister’s hand, sending the older man crashing into a column in the middle of the room. The imps abruptly disappeared, dropping Kiel to the floor, which he hit hard with a loud groan. With the Magister distracted, Bethany sprinted for the library doors, then paused.
Owen would have helped Kiel here. It was probably the brave, heroic thing to do.
Like she was ever going to follow Owen’s example.
With that, she leaped into the library to hide, leaving the door open just wide enough so she could watch what happened.
Kiel stood up, trying to catch his breath, and held his remaining wand aimed at the Magister. “This is all . . . making me seriously rethink . . . my apprenticeship,” he said, then mumbled a spell. The marble floor shuddered, then rose up around the Magister, trapping the older magician in place.
The Magister’s eyes lit up with blue fire, and the floor tiles exploded toward Kiel, who waved them away with his wand, then sent ice shards hurtling toward the Magister.
The shards slid around the older man, hitting the wall behind him.
“NO MORE!” the Magister roared, and Kiel suddenly dropped to the floor, his legs and arms flopping around uselessly, leaving the boy unable to stand, cast a spell, or even think. “This is but a Crisis of Confusion spell, Kiel, and you will eventually return to normal. But continue defying me and I shall take the magic from your mind altogether! We cannot continue living out the whims of these writers, living out conflict and hate for their entertainment!”
He stepped forward to kick Kiel’s remaining knife-wand from his hand, then gestured, wiping Kiel’s mouth off his face like zipping up a zipper. Dark shadows grabbed each of Kiel’s hands and feet and dragged him over to the wall, holding him in place.
“For the love I hold for you, Kiel, please, listen to me.” The Magister, breathing hard, held out a shaky hand toward his apprentice. “Stop this, or I shall have to take steps. Be reasonable! You cannot defeat me with the magic I taught you myself.”
Kiel closed his eyes, then slowly nodded.
The Magister gestured, and Kiel’s mouth reappeared. The boy sighed, his eyes still closed. “You’re right,” he said. “I can’t.”
Then Kiel slammed his chin into his chest, and an impossibly bright light exploded like a sun in front of him, destroying the shadows holding him against the wall. The magician looked away with a cry as the light quickly faded, only to find Kiel standing just inches from him, holding a ray gun to the Magister’s head.
The older man’s eyes widened and his voice cracked with rage. “You . . . you would use science against me?”
Kiel shrugged, his eyes wild. “Charm gave me this ray gun and that flare for emergencies. I feel dirty even using them. But, like you said, there’s no way I’m going to defeat you with magic. Now calm down and maybe we can fix all of this before it gets even worse.”
“There is no going back, Kiel,” the Magister whispered. “Not to our world, not with the knowledge we now have.”
“Yes, there is!” Kiel shouted. “Maybe that Porterhouse guy did create us. So what? You say he made us into who we are? Magi, you made me into who I am! You raised me, led me, taught me. You created the me that I am today, more than anyone else.” He glared at the Magister. “Now look at you. Attacking innocent people? Threatening them, torturing them? This isn’t you.”
The ray gun exploded into a thousand pieces, and the Magister began to grow, magical energies exploding all around him in his rage. Ten feet, then twenty, and he cracked the ceiling of the room, his height still increasing.
“This doesn’t look like calming down,” Kiel said from below.
“The Magister who raised you never truly existed!” the magician roared, and his voice was as loud as thunder. “For his sake, and for the sake of all those trapped within every other story, I will have the girl’s power!”
“Are you ready for someone else’s idea?” said Bethany from his side, holding a book in her hand.
Kiel glanced over and shrugged. “It’s not my typical strategy, but I’m flexible.”
Bethany quickly whispered into his ear, then threw the book open onto the floor in front of them. As the Magister raged above them, casting some sort of elaborate spell, Bethany grabbed Kiel’s hand, and the two of them leaped forward into the now-open book.
“NO!” the Magister shouted, realizing too late what was happening. He struck out and magical energy exploded from his hand, but they were already gone.
The book burst into nothingness, leaving behind just a blackened mark on the floor, the air still crackling with deadly magic.
The Magister settled to the floor, his eyes wide. “What have I done?” He touched the floor gently, the spot where his bolt had destroyed the book. “Kiel? What have I done ?”