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Authors: Platte F. Clark

BOOK: Good Ogre
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“Fine,” Dirk sighed, giving in. “Let's go find him, then—”

“No!” Max interrupted, the word flying from his mouth before he had time to think. Sarah gave him an inquisitive look.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, sorry. Just sort of a stressful day.” An idea had taken root, but Max couldn't share it with the others. “Look, I'm going to talk to Wayne, only by myself. I owe him that much.”

Dirk didn't look too happy about it, but he nodded. “Okay, Max.”

“I'll see you online later,” Max added. “Really, don't worry.” He grabbed his things and headed out the door.

“That was weird,” Sarah said after he'd left.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Dirk agreed.

Max crossed Main Street and headed back to school, noticing storm clouds building on the horizon. They seemed to reflect the chaotic feelings stirring inside him.
What do you do when home doesn't feel like home anymore? What does family mean when you find out you're not really who you thought you were? And what if what you want means leaving all your friends behind?
Max kept thinking about the portal and the knowledge that Sporazo—no, his father—had created it. It was part of his inheritance, left to him over the ages. Max somehow knew that he'd be able to open the portal and get away from Madison.
But leaving without saying good-bye . . . could he even do it?

Yes
.
Because saying good-bye is too hard.

Max rounded the corner and Parkside Middle School came into view. By the time he'd reached the front doors, he'd made up his mind.

CHAPTER FOUR

STORM DOORS

W
AYNE WAS IN THE LOCKER
room looking for shoulder pads big enough to fit him (the coach had said he'd find him a pair even if he had to go to the NFL). If the big kid was surprised to see Max, he didn't show it.

“Can we talk?” Max asked, wanting to get right to the point.

Wayne nodded as he put the undersized shoulder pads down. The sound of muffled voices and a locker closing could be heard nearby. “Somewhere more private?” Wayne suggested.

“Yeah, good idea.”

Wayne grabbed a leather satchel and he and Max left the locker room (besides being noisy it smelled like wet feet). They eventually found a quiet spot on the gym
bleachers. Max couldn't help but notice the rope stretching down from the ceiling—even just hanging there it seemed to be mocking him.

“Is this about my offer?” Wayne asked.

“Yeah. It's practically all I've been thinking about.”

“Did your dwarf friend help?”

“He told us about the Shadric Portal and the fact that you had to be good to handle it.”

Wayne reached into his shirt and removed an amulet that hung around his neck. It was silver and had a diamond-shaped stone that was misty gray in color. “The Amulet of Alignment,” he said, holding it up for Max to see. “It turns color based on your deeds: white for good and black for evil.”

Max squinted at the small stone set in silver. “It's kind of grayish.”

“Most people aren't black or white,” Wayne said with a shrug. “I try to do the right thing. Anyway, this was a gift to help remind me of that.”

“Cool,” Max said, watching as Wayne slipped the amulet back under his shirt. He looked at the rope, remembering his humiliation from earlier—it represented everything that was wrong in his world. Here he
was a loser. In the Magrus he was something special.

Overhead, the patter of rain began to hit the old school's roof.

“If I go, can I come back?” Max asked after a moment.

“Of course.”

“I can just step back and forth anytime I want?”

“I don't see why not.”

Max scratched his head. “And they really want me to come back? To rebuild the Tower?”

“They do,” Wayne answered. “You're an important and powerful person.”

Max hesitated—it was one thing to think he'd made up his mind, but another to actually say it out loud. He took a breath. “Yes—I want to go back.”

“Aha!” came Dirk's voice from behind the bleachers. He stepped out to face them, pointing at Max with an accusatory finger. “Send me away while you go and find Wayne by yourself, huh? And you really thought I was going to fall for that? I knew you were up to something.”

“You
followed
me?” Max did his best to sound outraged even though he knew Dirk was right.

“We both did,” Sarah announced, stepping out to join Dirk.

Max suddenly had a lump in his throat that felt as big as a grapefruit. “Look, I didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings. I just didn't want to say anything.”

“Yeah, well, obviously,” Dirk replied, his hands on his hips.

“It's just that everything's different now,” Max continued. “You don't know how it feels to have the kind of power I had in the Magrus. I stood before kings and their armies, and they listened to me. And then I come home and have to put up with people like Ricky Reynolds. They just won't leave me alone, even though I know I could reach out to the
Codex
and stop them. Even here in the Techrus where magic doesn't work right, I could do enough to make sure they never laid a hand on me or anyone like me again. But I . . . can't. And so I'm just tired of being the victim.”

Sarah's expression softened. “Max, I'm so sorry.”

“It used to be that I was a kid pretending to be a wizard,” Max continued. “But now I'm a wizard pretending to be a kid. I was born in the Magrus; my father was the greatest arch-sorcerer who ever lived. Whatever I'm supposed to do with my life, it's going to be there—not here.”

“What about us?” Dirk asked, his voice growing quiet. “You know, your friends?”

“Guys, it's not like I'm going and will never come back. I'll have the Shadric Portal, remember?” Max turned to Wayne, realizing he wasn't 100 percent sure on that point.

“It belongs to you,” Wayne said. “Who else could even use it?”

“See?” Max continued. “I can step between the realms whenever I want. You guys can come and visit me whenever
you
want.”

“What about school?” Sarah asked. “You can't just drop out.”

“He can continue his studies at the Wizard's Tower,” Wayne interjected. “I'm sure there's still a lot for him to learn.”

Max nodded. “So when you think about it, it's not like I'm quitting school—I'm just switching schools. Don't you guys see? This is what I'm supposed to do.”

“Even if it is,” Sarah said, choosing her words carefully, “there are ways back to the Magrus that don't involve black magic. Messing around with something like the Shadric Portal shouldn't be taken lightly—you of all people should know that.”

“Yeah,” Dirk jumped in, “Send Wayne back to find Sumyl and her magic carriage. But for now, you need to listen to Sarah.” Hearing Dirk argue that he should stop and think things over was like the Pillsbury Doughboy swearing off bread. But they did have a point. Then again, Max's own father had made the artifact, just like the
Codex of Infinite Knowability
resting in his backpack. Something had made Max take it from his nightstand—as if the magical book
knew
what was going to happen. Whether that was a good thing or not, Max wasn't sure.

“I'm sorry,” Max said, rising from his seat. “I've actually been thinking about this for a long time—long before Wayne got here. This isn't my home anymore.”

Sarah stepped up to him and put her hand on his arm. “Max, I'm asking you not to do this. I know things have been hard, but taking the easy way out—especially when it involves Shadric magic—isn't the answer. This is how people lose track of themselves—they take shortcuts. They forget that when it comes to the easy way, there's always a cost.”

Wayne rose and pulled a black object out of his satchel. It was about the size of a small laptop computer and was shaped like an oval. It reminded Max of an empty picture
frame, only it was a shimmering black and adorned with intricately carved skulls. The skulls made a design so that they were bound together by a twisted, thorny vine. Four blue gems were inlaid along the surface, and at the top a rune-covered door peeked through the twisting mass of skulls and vines. “This is what the arch-sorcerer Sporazo created,” Wayne said, holding it in front of Max. “This is the Shadric Portal.”

“Please, don't . . . ,” Sarah warned, but Max wasn't listening. He took the ancient artifact in his hand and the blue stones immediately began to glow.

“Dude, skulls are not good!” Dirk warned. “But at least they're not
red
.”

Suddenly the stones turned red, casting a crimson light over the portal's surface.

“It knows you,” Wayne said.

Max rose and slowly walked to the center of the gym floor, the Shadric Portal humming in his hand. The others trailed behind him.

“Seriously, just put it down,” Dirk said, his voice growing tense. “When have glowing red skulls ever been a good thing?”

“Max, listen to us,” Sarah urged. “Don't open the portal.”

But Max could feel the magic crawling up his arms like he was reaching into a warm bath. The humming sensation increased, filling his ears and drowning out the voices of his friends. The artifact grew even warmer, and the strange metallic frame started to soften and stretch. Max knew that magic was being employed, but it was as foreign a feeling as it was familiar. Whatever the Portal was, it was a part of him. And yet it was also alien and unknown.

Max began to pull the sides of the Shadric Portal apart, watching as the frame expanded, growing impossibly as it did so. He stretched his hands as far as he could, widening the portal to the size of a small door. Through it, reality seemed to bubble and grow dark. Max let go, somehow knowing that the portal wouldn't fall. He stepped back and watched as it hovered in the air. On the other side a strange world came into focus: The ground floated like great islands of ice over a swirling, chaotic storm. In the distance a structure rose, like an ancient temple thrust together when the world was new. Then the voice rolled through the door and exploded around them. It was deep and moved with the
impending finality of an iceberg calving into the ocean. “It is done!” the voice roared, and there was no doubt who it belonged to.

“The Maelshadow!” Max cried out, letting go of the portal.

“Hurry, close it!” Sarah exclaimed. “Max! Do something!”

Max grabbed hold of the artifact again, this time pushing on it with all his might. The stones flickered, but grew a darker shade of red. The frame refused to budge.

“It's not working!” Max cried, not knowing what else to do. Suddenly a black fog poured from the open portal, reaching with handlike fingers as it crawled along the floor.

“Don't let it touch you!” Wayne shouted, stepping away.

The sound of thunder exploded around them as a lightning bolt tore through the ceiling of the old gymnasium. The blast sent Max and his friends tumbling as bits of tile and insulation fell with the rain. They scrambled to their feet, standing knee-deep in the sable fog flowing like a river from the mouth of the portal.

“It touched us,” Dirk said, looking from the black fog back to Wayne. “It's not going to be good, is it?”

“No,” Wayne answered.

Above them the storm raged as black and gray clouds bubbled to life; lightning danced between them, followed by a shrill screech as if the very sky was being torn apart. The wind and rain broke more pieces of the ceiling off, but this time the chunks of roof flew upward, joining a cyclone of flying debris. Max looked up through the rain and wind and saw, to his horror, a twisting tornado taking shape.

“Run!” Sarah yelled, pulling Max and dragging him toward the exit. Dirk quickly followed, and the three scrambled toward the door. Wayne hesitated, however, looking at the portal and then back at Max.

“Hurry, Wayne!” Max cried back to him. Wayne considered the mass of black swirling around him, then turned and ran after the others. The group sprinted down the stairwell, up to their waists now in the fog, before darting down a side hallway and to a set of double doors that led outside. They flew through, but were nearly swept off their feet by a gust of wind that hit with the force of a boxer's punch.

“Look!” Dirk cried. Above them the storm continued to rage, the clouds not only stretching
across
the sky, but also
down
. Madison was being walled in.

A shudder traveled down Max's spine as a nearby wall exploded. He felt chunks of brick pelt him along his back and side. As one, the group took off across the schoolyard, dodging debris and rain that moved like bullets in the ferocious winds. But there was something else going on—something more terrible than the storm. Max turned around in time to see the school
grow
. The rows of neatly packed red bricks broke apart as large gray stones erupted into place around them. Then the whole structure rose from the ground, the stones coming to the surface like the roots of an obnoxious weed pulled from the earth. The building twisted on itself, rising like a tower—and at its top, a tornado whipped about and stretched to connect with the dark clouds above.

The humming in Max's ears returned, and with it a new pain exploded in his head, causing him to ­stumble forward. The others stopped to help him as the black fog spilled from the former school's misshapen windows, pouring to the ground and surging like a wave. There was something in the fog—something that was dark and
menacing and surged with the power of dark magic. Max could actually feel it. He looked at his friends, and they stared back at him, their faces flushed and eyes growing distant. The magic was affecting them—it was
changing
them!

Max reached out with his mind and found the
Codex
in his backpack. He'd long since committed the names of the Prime Spells to memory—spells so powerful that all other magic was drawn from them. He felt his own mind begin to drift, the spell slipping away. He was beginning to change too.

“Panoply!” he shouted, and the Prime Spell came roaring to him. It flowed through Max and his friends, pushing the black magic away and surrounding them in a kind of bubble.
Panoply—to cover and protect.
But using the
Codex
in the human realm took nearly all the strength Max had. He collapsed, barely able to hold the spell together. Wayne reached down and scooped him up in his arms.

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