Reversed (2 page)

The gargoyles hovered around the candle. Purple flecks
glinted in their living stone. He wasn’t sure how they’d lit the candle, and it
was probably best not knowing. Both stuck their tongues out at him, dashed out
of the room, and slammed the door.

Darney sat on the edge of the bed and ate what was left in
his pack. Hopefully Mage Jasp would deem him worthy enough for a meal or two
tomorrow, or he’d have to start eating the dust bunnies.

He left the candle burning and lay down, but he couldn’t
bring himself to close his eyes. The quiet was too much – the cards’ absence
overwhelming, even the accusing stare of the reversed Magus. Proof he had
failed them – his cards taken from him.

He’d be better off walking out the front door, cutting his
losses. If he stayed there, Jasp was bound to make his life even more
miserable, if that were possible.

Abandoned by his mother, now stripped of his profession –
there wasn’t much of anything left aside from the breath in his body. And that
wasn’t worth much.

He couldn’t leave, though.

Darney closed his eyes and breathed in the dust around him.

“Murr-ow.”

He sat up and gripped the nearest bedpost. A pair of blue
eyes sparkled up at him from the floor. A cat, just a cat. Its black fur nearly
blended in with the shadows. The cat licked its paw, a diamond shivering at its
neck. It placed its paw back on the floor and stretched its neck so it looked
like a statue, immobile like the gargoyles had seemed at first. “Murr-ow.”

“Nice kitty. Where did you come from?” The door remained
closed, and Darney hadn’t seen it when the candle was first lit. Perhaps it had
hid under the bed.

“Murr-ow.” It licked its other paw.

That was a mage’s cat, so it couldn’t be normal. “What do
you want, furball?”

It jumped onto the bed beside him, a vexed look dotting the
feline features.

And then Darney remembered the cat that had been with that
wretched child. It had jumped up on his table during the card reading. If it
hadn’t been for the girl setting fire to his precious cards, he wouldn’t be
begging a crazy mage for help.

But that cat had been gray.

Sisters.
The word slithered into his mind, a whisper,
as if carried on a draft. He looked about, hoping to see one of his cards –
they always spoke in whispers.

“That wasn’t you, was it?” He brushed away the cat’s tail,
which was insistent on whipping against his leg.

“Murr-ow?”

Never trust a mage’s cat, especially one with a rather
expensive diamond around its neck.

Better to ignore it. Darney lay back and forced his eyes
shut.

The cat curled up next to him, a warm ball against his side,
against his hip. Where he kept his cards.

It purred.

And for the first time in days, Darney got a good night’s
sleep.

* * * * *

Darney searched for the cat in the morning, even under the
bed where the dust bunnies rolled toward him as if to attack, but he couldn’t
find her. For some reason, he was sure it was female. It wouldn’t have
surprised him if the mage had cast some spell allowing her to walk through
walls.

She had acted as surrogate for his missing cards. He only
wanted to thank her.

The door burst open, two gargoyles spilling through it.
“Come with me,” one said, sounding grumpier than the day before. Their
vocabulary must have been limited.

Darney obliged, and they led him to the in-house facilities,
which was the only clean place he’d seen so far. They stared at him while he
did his business – as if they couldn’t get any creepier.

When he finished, they led him downstairs to a dust-covered
dining area. A long rectangular table that looked to seat at least twenty-four
people took up most of the space. Mage Jasp sat at the far end. Another setting
was placed cater-corner from the mage.

Darney sat quickly, so the gargoyles would stop prodding
him.

They flapped out of the dining room.

Jasp shoved a plum into his mouth and pointed to the bread
and fruit piled on the table, as if Darney should help himself.

He did so, wishing there was some meat – it had been a long
time since he could afford any. Although if the gargoyles were the only form of
livestock around, he’d rather not break his teeth on such fare.

The mage didn’t attempt to converse. He was too busy
stuffing his face.

The fruit was good, almost too good. “Is this food even
real?” He couldn’t take anything for granted in a mansion filled with magic.

Jasp raised an eyebrow, as if asking with the simple
gesture, “What do you think? Would I be eating so much if that were the case?”
and continued breaking his fast. He could sure eat a lot for a little man.

Darney leisurely ate his fill, but he still had to wait for
Jasp.

Finally the mage burped and pushed his chair away from the
table.

Darney had been polite enough, allowing the man to finish
his meal. “Where are my cards?”

Jasp leaned toward him, scratched his chin with a gnarled
hand and tilted his head, gazing deep into Darney’s eyes. “Brown. Such an
unusual color. Anyone ever mention that to you?”

Too often. Especially his mother – she had claimed they
reminded her of his father. She teased him so with such hints. “Who cares about
my eyes? I want my cards.”

“Now, purple, any shade, that’s the norm. Sometimes deep
pink or even a tinge of red. Dark blue too. But brown. How interesting.”

Darney knew all too well. Delilah had always cooed over his
odd eye color. The only reason she likely stuck around for as long as she had
was because of them – she’d probably hoped strong magic hid behind his
unnatural eyes. Eyes from another world, she’d said.

But the mage, he was just trying to change the subject.
“Fine, you won’t tell me where to find my cards. So what do you want me to do?”

Jasp flopped back into his chair. “No fun.” He humphed.
“Today you sit in the garden.”

“Sit? Don’t you mean tend?” Darney expected the mage to put
him to work, and it would be back-breaking labor, seeing the state the house
was in. He must have used the victims that had been dumb enough to walk through
his door as servants.

“There will be plenty of time for that. All this is a long
process. Best get used to this dusty old manse.” Jasp brandished a wicked smile.
“I mean sit. Sit and take in your surroundings. Do nothing at all – most
important thing. Nothing.” He wiggled down from his chair and pushed it in,
then stacked the empty plates. “The task isn’t as simple as it sounds. Well,
not simple for those who have anything between their ears. Do you?”

Darney was sick of being insulted, but before he could
release a tongue-lashing at the rude little man, one of the gargoyles plopped
down in front of him.

“Come with me!” Its stony voice thudded in his ears.

“And I have dishes to do,” Jasp said. “It’s also baking day.
Nothing like fresh bread.” He trotted in the direction Darney assumed was the
kitchen, mumbling under his breath about different kinds of bread.

No other options presented themselves, so Darney followed
the stone knave. He wondered exactly what sitting in the garden would entail.
It sure sounded an easier task than washing dishes and baking bread.

* * * * *

Darney sat on a cold stone bench, forcing himself to not
look at the gargoyles perched on either side of him. After they had showed him
to the garden, they settled in on either end of the bench, melding to the stone
as if they and it were carved out of one solid piece. Their tongues remained
stuck out, a pose they seemed to like, and their granite eyes watched him. The
scrutiny was disturbing.

He surveyed the garden, determined to ignore the stone
beasts. Magic clearly ran through the earth. The garden was filled with fruit
trees – the brilliant purple and blue fruits seemed so vibrant against the gray
backdrop of the house. Lavender leaves rustled in the breeze. A formidable
vegetable garden, mostly full of eggplant, was tucked away in a far corner.

All of it thrived, but the dirt surrounding it was as
washed-out and dead as the rest of the house. The only nutrients here were made
of magic. Quite a feat for a single mage, even if he was the feared Jasp. Not
what Darney would have expected of the mage from the tales he had heard. No, he
hadn’t thought such a man would use his magic to encourage life, but to enslave
others to do his bidding. Instead, the little man seemed more than happy being
a homemaker, at least in the garden and kitchen. He drew the line at dusting,
though.

But looks were deceiving. Just like the smiling child who
had set fire to his card table, to an entire town – she hadn’t appeared evil.
Perhaps the bread Jasp baked had poison kneaded in the dough.

Darney pushed himself off the bench. He hated sitting, even
when giving card readings. Delilah sat while delving into a person’s past, present,
and future, but he felt less connected, too inactive unless standing. If Jasp’s
anger rained on him for not sitting, so be it. He stepped closer to a plum
tree.

It shook its leaves at him.

That wasn’t from the wind; only that tree reacted. Protective
magic. Just the kind he should have been able to cast on his cards. Perhaps if
he studied the power more closely... He reached toward the low-hanging
branches.

The tree rattled again. It growled.

Darney snatched his hand back. He wasn’t about to find out
if the bark also had a bite. Obviously only Mage Jasp could pluck the fruit
from those trees’ branches.

“Do nothing,” one of the gargoyles grumbled behind him.

He spun, startled after being so focused on the tree. They
both stared, those stony eyes burrowing into him.

“Sit,” the other said.

Darney crossed his arms. “And let the boredom consume me
whole?”

They stared harder, so much that he thought their eyes would
crack from the pressure.

He laughed and threw up his arms. That was the point, Jasp’s
intention all along, to torture him with boredom. Do nothing. “Well, you can go
tell your master that he can’t control my actions. He may have my cards, but he
doesn’t have my soul. Now get, you foul sentinels.”

For a few moments, it looked as though they’d continue their
watch. Then they flapped their wings suddenly, like pigeons startled by an
exuberant child, and took off for the house.

Good riddance.

Darney knelt at the foot of the tree, making sure not to
touch the roots. He imagined them wrapping around his wrists and pulling him
into the ground. Protective magic was active as well as passive, and it could
consume the attacker, using the life to feed the magic and strengthen it. He
didn’t want to get eaten by a tree.

The dirt surrounding the roots looked drained, sapped, like
nothing could live in it let alone thrive. He rubbed some of the dirt between
his fingers and sniffed it. Magic was a give-and-take – you had to get the
power from somewhere, and that meant sacrifice. The barren earth, the fading
house, they all could have given life to the magic that caused the fruit and
vegetables to radiate nourishment.

Darney hated the need to sacrifice. He could never see the
benefit of harming one thing to help another. The ground had as much right to
health as the trees growing in it. Even if he could have protected his cards,
he wouldn’t have been able to choose what to sacrifice to do so. Harming
anything else was plain selfish.

But not protecting the cards was selfish, too.

“Murr-ow.”

Darney peered over his shoulder. The black cat sat
statuesque on the bench. She looked as full of life as the fruit. Actually, the
fruit almost paled in comparison to the life she radiated. The diamond at her
neck had a blue tinge to it. It sparkled, even through the constant cloud cover.

And the beautiful blue eyes fixed his gaze. They looked
familiar. The answer forced him to his feet. Of course, the cards. In every
card, cats’ eyes glittered in the background. The Magus had blue eyes in its
backdrop, just like this feline’s. Piercing blue eyes.

He stepped toward the cat.

“Murr-ow.” She jumped down from the bench and disappeared
into the trees. They didn’t attack, not seeing her as a threat.

Darney had forgotten to thank her again.

She was obviously a taunt from the mage, after Darney had
banished his gargoyles. A feline meant to play tricks with his mind. If
torturing him with boredom wasn’t working, making him crazy was the next best
thing.

And Darney couldn’t get the Magus card out of his head – the
eyes in the background, the ones that looked so sad when upside-down. Even
though the card accused him every time he saw it, he missed it; he missed every
single card in the deck.

If Jasp wouldn’t tell him where his cards were, he was going
to find them. No more sitting idle in the garden.

The Magus’ demanding gaze burned in his mind, the blue eyes
in the background blazing. And the determination he had felt when climbing to
the house filled him again, grew inside of him, until he felt ready to burst.

Darney reached out for The Magus’ heartbeat, as he had
reached for the branches of the tree. He raised his hand, as if ready to pluck
something from the air. Wind whipped through his blond hair, the long locks
brushing his eyelashes.

There it was, quiet, but there. Thump, thump. Thump, thump.
The tiny little breath of life.

He stretched further, feeling for the edge, a sharp edge
that could rip through skin. There.

The Magus card appeared in his outstretched hand, upright.

Magic brought the card to his hand.
His
magic.
Perhaps Delilah had been right all along. And the only thing he had sacrificed
was his own foolish lack of confidence. A part of himself, but still a
sacrifice.

Finally. The spark lit within him and cascaded through his
body. He made himself feel it all, and his elation enveloped him.
My magic.