The Master Magician

The necklace flew out of Saraj’s pocket and into Emery’s left hand. Saraj spun back to Emery, but not before Emery tossed the necklace to Ceony, using as much force as his restrained wrist would allow.

The glass perfume vial carrying the oil and the bottle containing the liquid latex shattered the moment the necklace hit the floor. The necklace skidded across the tiles toward Ceony’s pillar, slowing down before it reached her. Saraj hadn’t bound her below the hip, so she reached out a foot and pulled the necklace toward her with her toe.

Saraj spun back toward Ceony.

Sweating, heart racing, Ceony pulled the necklace between her feet. The entrails encircled her tightly enough to hold her in place as she pinched the necklace between her shoes and, bending her knees, lifted it up until her right hand could reach the cord.

Saraj sprinted for her, pulling a bloodstained handkerchief from his pocket.

Ceony’s fingers hunted over the necklace until she found the match tied there. She pressed her thumbnail into its tip, scraped in and up.

Lit it.

“Flare!” she yelled just as Saraj reached for her, his handkerchief glowing a ruddy sheen. The fire in her hand grew a thousand times its former size, licking out and causing Saraj to stumble. Whatever spell Saraj had been about to cast nullified itself.

“Burn!” Ceony commanded, and the fire chewed away at the entrails holding her. She stumbled from the pillar, her ribs aching as they expanded back into place. With the command “Split,” she divided her fireball into two. She sent one flying toward Saraj, forcing him to retreat. Running to Emery’s side, she used the other to incinerate his bonds.

Emery gasped for air as the entrails broke apart. His hand flew to his shoulder to rip out the hair-blade there; he groaned and pressed his palm into the wound, which began bleeding with renewed vigor.

“I need . . . my coat,” he wheezed, gawking at the fire in Ceony’s hands. “Spells.”

“The stairs,” she guessed. “He came from the stairs—”

Emery’s eyes widened and he grabbed her fireless hand, yanking her behind the pillar just as red throwing stars soared past where they had been standing. The stars bounced off the stone pillar and reverted to liquid blood upon hitting the floor.

“Split! Flare! Combust!” Ceony cried, dividing her flames once more. She kept one fireball in reserve and threw the other at Saraj. He leapt from its path; the flames sailed toward the hospital beds, charring their metal rods as it went.

“Go!” Ceony shouted. “Find the spells. I’ll hold him off!”

“Ceony—”

“Go!”

Still clutching his shoulder, Emery ran to the door to the stairwell. Ceony cast a pinwheel spell on her fireball and tossed it toward the pillar behind which Saraj had barricaded himself—the fire bloomed into a four-petal flower and spun back and forth across the tiles, forcing Saraj to withdraw farther. The spilled oil on the ground ignited into a puddle of flames.

Gripping her necklace, Ceony recited the words for bond breaking so quickly she nearly tongue-tied herself. She became a Gaffer and ran to the window, yanking down the muslin sheet covering it. If nothing else, perhaps someone would see the flames before they went out and would send for help.

Making contact with the glass, Ceony commanded, “Leftward, Shatter!” The window fragmented into hundreds of pieces and, with a swipe of Ceony’s hand, flew toward Saraj. The glassy darts broke into even smaller shards as they collided with walls, pillars, and the floor. One slid between Saraj’s ribs before he could take cover.

“Kutiyaa!” Saraj shouted. Ceony moved for the next window, but her legs suddenly gave out under her. She dropped to the floor, catching herself on her hands.

She tried to get up but couldn’t move her legs.

She couldn’t feel her legs.

“You forget, kitten,” Saraj said between heavy breaths, “that I’ve touched your skin. I own you!”

He stepped out from behind a pillar, holding his bloodied side. The first two fingers of his right hand were crossed—perhaps a method of holding the numbing spell over her.

Ceony pushed herself backward with her arm. Glimpsed the oil puddle, still burning, barely. If she could get that fire—

Clutching her necklace, she moved her hand to the pouch of sand, only to have her tongue and lips go numb as well. The spell turned to mush in her mouth.

“No more of that,” Saraj said. He took a deep breath and started chanting. The hand holding his wound began to glimmer with gold, and within moments his breathing evened. He pulled his hand away, the wound healed.

He managed to take one step toward Ceony before a gunshot rang out through the room. Saraj stumbled and gasped, his hands flying to his chest, cupping the bullet hole there. As soon as he uncrossed his fingers, Ceony’s numbness vanished.

Ceony scrambled to her feet as Saraj fell from his.

Whipping around, Ceony spotted Emery in the doorway, her pistol clutched in his hands. He wore his charcoal coat and Ceony’s bag slung over his shoulder.