Page 22 of Magpie
I’m waiting for another nod of confirmation, but she scoffs out a hollow laugh. “Is that what he told you?” She looks up at me, irritation clear in her eyes. “I createdhim, or at least what he used to be. I was the one to build that house. For him, for us, before he ruined it.” Irina leans back in her chair and looks far off in the distance.
“I thought he was the puppet master,” I say, refusing to believe this bright, clean person in front of me could be responsible for the endless void that is his house. Then I think back to all those nights, the ones filled with splendor and magic. The evenings that glittered with wonder, filling my veins and letting me experience the deepest pleasures this world has ever known. Maybe that was all that remained of her touch.
“I can’t remember a time before I left when Alister and I were not friends,” she says, taking her seat behind the smoky crystal ball and focusing her gaze on it. I suspect she is not seeing the swirling clouds encased in the orb. “I was born in a group of traveling performers, back when the world still felt new, when people were still wise enough to believe in magic.”
The world darkens around us at her words. The only light in the room is emitting from the orb, ghostly white tendrils of it reaching out in the dim shop.
“My mother passed when I was young, and suddenly I became just another mouth to feed. A burden on the group. Alister was a few years older than me, another orphan like me. Though we had never spoken, he demanded the group keep me on, offering to look after me. We were glued to each other’s sides from then on. He was my protector.”
I am your protector.
A sad smile tugs at her face at the same time a frown pulls at mine.
“The world used to be a much harsher place,” she says, and I laugh, the sound sharp, jarring in the quiet of this celestial space.
“It’s fairly inhospitable currently,” I say.
“You have not known true hunger, true cold,” she snaps.
I try not to, but I can’t help but remember all those lessons with Alister. All the things I saw, the things Icreated. I all but snarl at her as I lean forward and hiss, “I have known more than you think.”
Irina swallows, but backs down slightly from the fierceness in my gaze. She settles, looking again at the crystal ball, continuing her tale.
“By the time we were teenagers, it was obvious something was wrong with Alister. He was coughing more than he wasn’t, and his complexion turned ghostly as his cheeks grew gaunt. I was terrified, watching my only friend wither to nothing in front of me. That’s the first time I dove into magic.
“There was a witch who traveled with us. She used her talents mostly for fortune telling, a small sideshow act to gather a few coins. But I knew to fear her, to fear the great depths of power she carried. I went to her one evening, when Alister was sick with a fever and I could feel the end coming. I was going to beg her for a remedy, offering whatever payment I could give. No price was too high to save him. To my horror, I found her tent empty. It was snowing that night, and I saw no tracks that I could follow, nothing to indicate where she had gone. Alone and terrified, I knew I couldn’t wait much longer. Every second wasted had Alister slipping further away from me. I ran to her chest and grabbed as many books as my weak arms could carry, before running back into the night.”
I focus on the swirling crystal ball, finding myself drawn into the story. I can almost hear the whinny of horses around me, can almost feel the crunch of snow under my boots. Like I am the one rushing through a winter’s night with a witch’s stolen books in my arms.
“I was foolish, my heart and mind consumed with thoughts of Alister, and how I would live in this world without him. I stayed by his side the entire night as he writhed in pain, moaning through the fever dreams and nightmares. The only thing I could do was drip water into his mouth and try to keep the fire going. That, and read. The books were proving to be useless, most of them written in a language I couldn’t understand. Some of the pages had words that drifted and ran from my eyes, and some were taken up with nothing but sketches of plants and ancient symbols. I was about to give up, wondering how badly the witch would punish me if I tried to fetch her again. That’s when I came across this page.”
She turns the book in front of her toward me and pushes it across the table.
A cold sweat breaks out over me as my eyes scan the page. The words shift and blur before my eyes, until I reach forward, bidden by some unknown force, and touch the book. At once the ink stills, the words swirling and scribbling across the page, revealing an incantation. I am no stranger to reading spell books, having studied them many nights in Alister’s room. This particular spell seems to be—
I gasp, the air leaving my lungs so quickly it all but chokes me.Spirit keys.The page explains the ritual act of forming a connection of one spirit to another. A transference of life.
“I thought if I could connect my spirit to his, maybe it would give him my health as well,” Irina says, her voice sad, almost hollow. “Of course, I wasn’t able to do anything that evening. I was barely able to read the page, much less dabble in some power I had never touched before. Alister’s fever broke, and he regained his health, just a little, but we both knew it was only a matter of time before another sickness would claim him.”
She is quiet for a moment, looking out the window at the night sky.
“He became obsessed with the idea of the spirit keys,” she continues, her voice taking on a darker tone. “He studied the pages of that book each night. I was surprised when the witch did not come looking for her stolen books, even more shocked to learn she had left the group entirely. With no one to return the books to, and certainly no one to teach us how to use them, they remained nothing more than heavy items in our luggage as we traveled from town to town. But that did not stop Alister from memorizing their pages, certain he could conquer them. He believed that there was a link to immortality through the keys, something that could keep the sickness at bay. I was willing to try anything that would keep him with me forever.”
She sighs, leaning forward and propping herself up on the table, as if the effort of telling this story is draining her.
“We split off from our traveling group, setting up our own solo performance. We roamed from town to town, digging into the seedy underbelly of each new city we entered. He was determined to find someone who could teach us to use those books. We were young, and I was blinded by love, so when he stumbled upon someone who would teach us, I agreed without hesitation. I didn’t realize the price I would pay, not at the time.
“Magic came easier to me, and I expected Alister to be jealous. Instead, he was enthralled, demanding I work harder, learn more. The effort was wearing on me, but I could deny him nothing, so I threw myself into my studies, mastering every lesson taught to me. It took years, and countless attempts, but eventually the book began to speak to me. To whisper its dark secrets. And one moonless night, I was finally able to create this.”
She holds up the dove key. I can hardly look at it, averting my gaze as though it is something unseemly. The sight of it has my chest aching so badly I am having a hard time ignoring it.
“Put it away, please,” I hiss, rubbing at the hollow feeling in my chest. Irina blanches, ducking her head as she drops the key back down her dress, hidden from sight but affecting me no less.
“It was like watching a miracle happen, when I gave him my key,” she continues, drawing me back into her tale. “The color bloomed in his face. His cheeks filled out. The dark bags disappeared from under his eyes. He was a new man, standing before me in his prime, with youth and strength filling him for the first time in his life. He was saved. Isavedhim. I gave him the life he had so desperately chased after, and it never once occurred to me that he would want more…
“With my magic in full bloom, Alister determined we should leave our teacher behind and set out on our own. We reformed our old act, putting on shows at local theaters and garnering a small fanbase in the process. With our powers, our act became instantly better than any charlatan performer or sleight-of-hand magician. Crowds would travel from all over to see our shows, and it was not unheard of for a fan to travel to more than one city just to see us perform again and again. So, it did not seem odd when we became aware of a man attending our performances, following us to well over five different cities. I assumed he was an eccentric youth with family money to spare and thought no more on the matter. Until the evening he approached us…”
A somber wind howls outside the window, and I am suddenly too frightened to look outside, too worried he will be there listening to every word of their shared history.
