The Glass Magician

With the slightest smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth, Grath said, “Shatter.”


The window shattered, and Ceony choked on a scream as the fragments of glass pushed their way into her skin, past her shirt and chemise, tearing her skirt and stockings. Glass embedded itself up and down her back and into her neck. It flew past her shoulders, slicing open fabric and skin. It stabbed like hundreds of tiny daggers into the back of her legs and knees. Fiery darts of pain pricked her body and dozens of small rivers of blood drizzled over her skin.

She gasped, a fish out of water, and Grath released her, letting her drop like a broken doll onto the floor. Bits of glass small as an infant’s fingernails were embedded in the skin of her hand, and star-shaped crisscrosses adorned her arms. Blood soaked her sleeves, and from what she could see in the mirrors, it soaked her back as well.

The blood may as well have been acid given the way her skin burned around the glass.

She tried to move, tried to push herself up, but the angry shards dug deeper into her skin, searing like hot coals. She wheezed and let herself go limp on the floor, cutting the side of her face on yet more broken gems of glass.

Grath brushed off his hands and grinned. “You see, Ceony,” he said, pacing the room back toward Delilah and Aviosky, “it is about the words, and it is about the material.” He patted Delilah on the cheek; she had gone still in her binds. “I kept thinking of Lira, my dear Lira, and how to cure this obnoxious hex you placed on her. I knew I had to reverse it. And I thought, Reverse. Yes, that makes sense, doesn’t it? Reverse the spell.

“Binding is a spell, too, you know,” he continued, tapping one hand against the other behind his back. “But all spells have counters, a ‘Cease’ command or the like. So why shouldn’t the Binding spell have one, too?”

Ceony held her breath and tried to move, groaning against the sensation of the glass shards shifting in her skin. Her hand slipped in blood, and she collapsed back onto the floorboards.

Grath smirked and paced, this time closer to her. “So I studied, I tested, I practiced like a good apprentice. But I was still missing something. I had to step outside the frame, so to speak, and really analyze what I wanted to achieve. And last night I figured it out while I was staring into the very mirror you left me at that restaurant. Do you want to know what I learned?”

Ceony’s fingers slid across the floor, catching on a bloodied pyramid of glass.

“Me!” Grath announced, lifting his hands in a grand gesture. “The missing piece is me. Clever, isn’t it?”

“Deli . . . lah,” Ceony groaned, trying to slide across the floorboards. She felt hot liquid bubble up from her back and winced.

“Don’t you see?” Grath asked, strolling back toward Delilah and Mg. Aviosky. “I am the key! I must rebond to myself.”

Ceony blinked, his words taking a moment to register. “P-Please . . .”

Grath talked over her. “Let me show you, explain it real slow. First, you must have the raw original, as I like to call it.”

He pulled a small satchel off his belt and dumped its contents onto the table. Fine, tan sand poured over the surface. Blower’s sand, used for forming glass. The raw original . . . The natural elements castable materials were made of?

“Second,” he continued, “is to reverse the process, the words. Do you remember what the words are?”

Hair fell into Ceony’s eyes.

“Come now,” Grath said, sliding a glass dagger from his belt. He held it to Delilah’s collar, and she whimpered beneath her gag as he lightly drew the blade across her skin. “Tell me the words.”

Ceony began to tremble, a motion that felt entirely involuntary.

“M-Material . . . made by man,” Ceony whispered, “I summon you. L-Link t-to me . . .”

“Yes, that’s it,” Grath interrupted, cutting her short. He stuck his right hand into the sand and said, “This is the tricky part. Material made by earth, your handler summons you. Unlink to me as I link through you, unto this very day.”

Warm blood streaked over the side of Ceony’s neck. She could feel her pulse radiating in every single cut and gouge, could hear it drumming Delilah’s name in her ears.

“Next, bond to myself,” Grath continued. He pressed the same hand into his chest and said, “Material made by man, I summon you. Link to me as I link to you, unto this very day.”

He pulled his hand back and crouched, ensuring Ceony could meet his gaze.

“And then,” he said, low and slow, “you bond to the new material. I promised I’d show you, didn’t I?”

He stood and shoved Delilah’s chair against the wall, then wrapped his fingers around her neck.

“No!” Ceony cried, pushing against the floor. Her knees slid in blood, and electric pain soared up her legs and into her shoulder blades, stealing her breath away.

“Are you watching?” Grath asked, his eyes locked on to Delilah. “Material made by man, your creator summons you.