Ex Magica, page 5
“Mallory? Mallory!” Mallory gradually climbed out of the pit of anxious uncertainty to find Alex standing in the flower garden shaking her. “It’s not too late. They haven’t announced anything, so it’s not part of the records yet. That’s why we have to change your Dikaió, tonight!”
Mallory’s eyes focused as hope began to bloom once more in her chest, burning back the marauding self-doubts and depression. Yes, there was still a chance to claim her birthright. She would let her usurping unborn sister taste the misery of a life without purpose in the city. Let her join the ranks of the lower Dikaió. Mallory checked herself. That’s not quite the spirit a Matriarch ought to have. Every citizen should be treated respectfully as the city could not function if they did not provide their service. Maybe she’d hire the girl as an assistant. She would be family after all, and without the threat of having her title stolen, it might be nice to have a sister to help out while managing the affairs of the Matriarchy. But first she needed to be a Dikaió Syntec.
Mallory reached up and took hold of Alex’s hand. Fresh tears filled her eyes. “Thank you, Alex.”
Alex inhaled deeply and wiped a tear away. “Let’s just try it and make sure it works before we get all emotional.”
“Of course, but even if it doesn’t, Alex. You’re the only one who has even been willing to try. Whatever happens, you will always be my best friend.”
“Raw!” Alex shook loose from Mallory’s hand and wiped tears from both cheeks. “Okay Mallory, seriously. Let’s go do this.”
Mallory nodded, and the two girls embraced quickly before turning in to the dark house. Alex thought it would be better not to order the lights of the house to turn on and attract attention. Despite the urgency of the situation, their plan for the night was still a clandestine operation, which could result in disciplinary repercussions. Alex’s grandfather was the Dikaió Administrator of Justice for the city, and her father as heir to the Administrator was the Chief Magistrate who oversaw the Order of the Magistrates: officers that were tasked with upholding the laws of the city, but on a day-to-day basis they mostly decided disputes between citizens. However, for extreme cases, the magistrates were armed with old-magic projectile weapons, which were quite deadly—though only the magistrates had ever seen one in use, and then only in training. The city was a peaceful place, not perfect by any means, but no one saw any reason to break its laws and ruin a good thing.
As far as Mallory was aware, the Administrator himself had not issued judgment on a case in which a citizen had disobeyed the city’s laws in the girls’ entire lifetime. The consequences of getting caught were impossible to know, but the trouble that would come after the fact seemed relatively slim: Mallory would be the only other Dikaió Syntec and would have a rightful claim to the Matriarchy of the city, and up until now they always went easy on her because of her mother’s position. Still, the risk was palpable in the air as they dodged furniture in the darkness of the night.
Shadows seemed to reach out for them, barring their way. Foreboding stared down at them from the portraits of Alex’s ancestors lining the hallway, beginning with Daniel Nelson the first Administrator, who had always mesmerized Mallory. He had the most piercing blue eyes, perhaps exaggerated by the artist, but they seemed as if they could look past all a person’s pretensions and see what was within. His eyes looked more like Caleb’s crystalline blue eyes than Alex’s, but that was expected, since the three families often married within their ranks if there was more than one child born to a house, so it was likely Daniel Nelson was related to all three of them in some distant past.
It had been at least three generations since one of the ruling families sired more than one child, and that was about to change. The House of the Matriarchy would have two girls, so whichever one was not Matriarch could be betrothed to Caleb. Mallory had not considered that until this moment and felt her stomach turn with the thought of her little sister marrying Caleb—for an instant, she thought about turning and running home, but her duty was to the city, and what use would she be as the Governor’s wife with no Dikaió? She could not even help her mother with the dinner party this evening, she would not even make a decent housewife. Any man who married her would have to leave his duties. Imagine a Governess calling on the Governor to leave the city’s needs to help her in the cooking and cleaning, ordering around the sprites every night: the very thought was scandalous. The entire city would look at her as a person of inconvenience. Besides, the city needed a Matriarch, and that was the role she had been born for, until her grandmother cursed her. She glanced back at the painting, and Daniel Nelson’s eyes danced warily in the reflection of a streetlamp shining in through the living room window, questioning her true intentions across the years.
Mallory turned away from the judgmental portraits to focus on Alex as they rushed down the hall. Alex had always been there for her. While Mallory had been busy trying to figure out how to make her way without magic, Alex had walked beside her making sure that the Dikaió would be there to bail her out of trouble if she needed it. It was Alex that first figured out that some magic items would respond to Mallory’s presence if they were told to, which made getting through doors much easier. Even though Alex’s interventions were always helpful, at times Mallory felt exhausted by her friend’s charity, of which Alex seemed to have an inexhaustible well. Tonight was different though. Tonight, Alex was offering help that would grant Mallory independence and freedom.
The night closed in around the girls as they entered the staircase to the attic. Mallory realized she had never been to the Book Club in the dark before, and while the staircase was always somewhat dim and gloomy in the daytime, at night, it was pitch black. She moved her hand in front of her face and could see nothing. Alex pulled a tiny Dikaió torch from her jacket pocket. “Dikaió on,” she whispered, and the stairway lit up in a dim white light that seemed blinding to their eyes, previously adjusted to the dark. Shadows crawled up the walls, undulating around them as they climbed the stairs.
Mallory briefly felt they must be the shadows of the Administrators in the hall come to put an end to their rebellion, but then she realized that they belonged to her and her friend, brought to life by the torch movement of Alex’s hand. The realization did not relieve the feeling of foreboding as she trudged up the stairs.
Alex fumbled with balancing the key and the torch while trying to work the old lock at the top of the attic stairs, so Mallory reached up and took the small torch from her. “Thanks,” Alex said without looking around. Even without the torch, Alex had trouble with the lock as her hands were trembling wildly. Mallory could not tell if it was excitement or fear that caused the tremors, but she assumed both as the two feelings were chasing each other in the pit of her stomach. She felt both profoundly sick and purposefully alive simultaneously.
The door swung open into more darkness. The torch’s light barely passed the doorway of the inner sanctity of their Book Club. Alex froze, and Mallory took her turn to nudge her friend forward. The world is full of significant events that would never be realized if not for friends spurring each other onward into history. Alex walked quickly after Mallory’s nudge, and Mallory followed close behind her, trying to stay within the torch’s circle of light. The two girls rushed to the old lamp and struck the spark necessary to ignite the fabric wick. As they trimmed the lamp, the room settled into its familiar state of illuminated existence, and both girls visibly relaxed.
The book was sitting open on a large wooden crate between the seats and the couch that the group used for a coffee table, and Alex reached for it with the awe and reverence a priestess might display in touching a holy instrument. The girls’ eyes were wide with reflected fire from the old lamp as they looked at the book: Alex’s green eyes sparkling like the green gems in the Smith Guild jewelry; Mallory’s grey eyes swirled red and yellow, becoming the fire of the old magic itself as she watched Alex open the book and turn to the page she had dogeared. Alex began to read, “Assume Dikaió re—”
“Wait!” Mallory grabbed her arm.
Alex screamed. “Oh my!” She breathed hard and held her chest. “Oh my, you scared me! What?!”
“I’m sorry. I just . . . I just, I’m scared.”
Alex raised her eyebrows which caused her black-bobbed hair to rise visibly. “You’re scared? What’s there to be scared of Mallory?”
Mallory laughed. “Says the girl that just screamed and said, ‘you scared me.’”
Alex softened at that retort. “Well, I guess this is all a little scary. I mean what will our parents think . . . the city . . . well, everything? But isn’t it worth it, Mallory? To be able to live your purpose, I mean. Isn’t it worth it?”
Mallory tilted her head to the side and bit her lip, considering. “Of course. But I can’t help thinking about how everything will be different.”
“Yes, but in a good way!”
“My life isn’t so awful, you know.” Mallory thought about her parents and wondered if they would be ashamed of her for breaking the rules, or proud of her for solving her problem independently. If they didn’t have a reason to pity her, how would they look at her?
Alex interrupted her thoughts, “I’ve been there for all of it, Mallory. It’s not great either. Building your death-trap contraptions to survive not having the Dikaió—it’s not great, Mallory. You’ve nearly killed yourself . . . you’ve nearly killed me a dozen times or more.”
Mallory laughed at that. “See, we’ve had some good times even without the Dikaió. Imagine how boring your life would be if I were just like everyone else.”
“Boring, yes, but we both know that eventually we’ll have to grow up. We’ll have to take over our parents’ roles. I’ll be Administrator, Caleb will be Governor, and you could be . . . you will be Matriarch. Isn’t that what you want?”
“I do, more than anything. I do. It’s just that I keep thinking about my grandmother’s dream.”
“More like, your grandmother’s curse.”
Mallory ignored that comment and continued, “Well, she said a Chorus would save the city. What if someone needs me to be what I am, and I just don’t know it yet?”
“I believe it was ‘a Matriarch who was a Chorus’ that saved the city. Right? If we change your Dikaió, you will be ‘a Matriarch who WAS a Chorus,’ past tense, Mallory.”
“Hmmm . . . I hadn’t thought of it like that.” Mallory stood up and walked over to look at the books on the shelves.
“Mallory? Are you ready?” Alex held up the book. “Can we do this?”
“Mmmm . . . ?” Mallory said absently, not looking at Alex.
“Mallory, can you just let me help you for once? Please? It’s just a short phrase; I swear.”
Mallory took a deep breath. “I’ve thought about using the Dikaió my whole life, Alex. I’ve thought about how nice it would be to just say something and have it happen like everyone else, but now that it comes to it, there’s a part of me that enjoys the struggle of having to do things on my own; to say whatever I want, whenever I want, without worrying about hurting someone. And what about that, Alex? What if I say something with the Dikaió and hurt someone? You’ve seen my temper.”
Alex set the book down on the coffee table and leaned back in her chair. She pulled her feet up and crossed her legs. “It seems like you’re making excuses to not go through with this. You say you enjoy struggling. Why can’t you enjoy the struggle of learning to control your tongue? I would welcome that change,” she teased.
Mallory laughed. “I’m sure my parents would as well.”
“To say nothing of Mrs. Alberts in culturing class. You’ve had her almost in tears worrying whether your curses would destroy the class’s crops.”
Mallory laughed louder at that, but Alex just looked exasperated, which made Mallory laugh even more. Eventually, she took deep gasping breaths between laughter and regained control. Alex was leaning forward, her elbows resting on her crossed legs, her hands dangling toward the floor. She was silent. Her eyes were like mirrors, and Mallory did not like the caginess of the girl standing at the bookshelf being reflected in them. Mallory sighed and turned back to the bookcase and pulled out a book titled Understanding Body Language from the shelf. She flipped through it to a page she knew well. It showed a drawing of a person with their arms crossed with a caption that read, “Crossing the arms is a sign of closing off conversation.” There was another image a few pages ahead that said that leaning forward was a sign of engagement. However, the book did not say what crossing one’s legs while leaning forward indicated. When Alex took that position, was she interested in what Mallory was saying or was she closing off conversation? She had never been able to figure that out, so she changed the subject.
“Do you suppose my sister will marry Caleb?”
Alex nearly fell forward off the chair and had to uncross her legs to pull herself up: “What?!”
“Well, she’ll be the second child of the Matriarch. It’s the way things used to be done, right?”
“Maybe, but it’s better than her being the Matriarch.”
“I suppose, but it’s just that . . .” Mallory set the book gently back into its place and shook her head.
“Mallory?” Alex looked uncomfortable and now her arms were crossed as well.
“Never mind, it’s silly. I’m ready.” Mallory walked over and again sat in the chair beside her friend.
Alex quickly picked up the book off the coffee table and began to read before Mallory could change her mind, “Assume Dikaió readdress from Dikaió Administrator Alexandria Nelson. Dikaiós reset to Dikaió Chorus. Okay the book says that will clear your Dikaió class. Now, we’ll reassign it.” Alex turned to another page that she had marked. “Restart Dikaió for Mallory Knenne as Dikaió Syntec. That’s it. How do you feel?”
Mallory stretched out her hands and looked down at them inquisitively. “I don’t feel any different at all. Should I?”
“I guess I don’t know. The book doesn’t really say so. It just has the words. Try the ball.”
“Oh, right.” Mallory pulled the little red ball from her pocket and rolled it onto the floor. It rolled under the coffee table, and then lodged under Caleb’s couch. Mallory leaned forward and thought about the ball. “Okay, ball, come to me.”
Nothing happened.
Mallory tried again. “Mallory wants her ball.”
Nothing happened.
“Mallory wants her red ball to come to her hand.”
Still nothing.
Both girls sighed and heaved themselves back into their chairs, exhausted by the disappointment. Mallory turned her face to Alex, “I don’t think it worked.”
“I can see that. I thought for sure it would. Maybe I missed something?” Alex opened the book again and began to read.
“Well, you’re not going to find it tonight, Alex; besides, I’m starving. My mother’s dinner party is probably just getting started. Let’s go eat!”
Alex sighed again. “Yes, okay. Don’t forget your ball.”
Mallory turned and looked at Caleb’s old couch. The filth was several layers deep: food, dirt, cobwebs. “There’s no way I’m touching that couch. Who knows what’s living in there—Would you mind?”
Alex visibly relaxed and laughed. “Oh, now you want my help? I don’t mind at all. Ball, go to Mallory.”
Nothing happened.
“Ball, go to Mallory.”
Nothing happened.
Panic tinged Alex’s voice. “Ball, come to me.”
Still nothing.
Alex pulled the small Dikaió torch from her pocket. “Dikaió, on.” The torch remained dark. Alex began to breathe hard, shallow breaths; her eyes were wild. “Dikaió Torch, turn on! Turn on! Turn on!” The torch remained dark.
Alex began to scream.
4
Alex ran out of the attic without bothering to close the door. Mallory quickly turned and blew out the flame of the old lamp, and the room went black. As an afterthought, she grabbed the book Alex had read from, and then Mallory was chasing her friend in the dark, moving slowly trying to piece together the layout of the attic from memory and her touch. Her shin rammed into the makeshift coffee table, and then she fell onto Caleb’s couch. She inhaled the dust plume as she tried to free herself from the stench of the teenage boy’s domain and coughed uncontrollably for a time. Her eyes burned and watered, and she held them tightly closed. The attic was too dark to see anything anyway. When her breathing had calmed and her eyes had stopped burning so much, she slowly pulled herself to her feet. She could hear Alex still shouting downstairs, and there was the sound of breaking glass and splintering wood.
Mallory called down to her as she felt her way to the staircase, “Alex, are you okay? Stay still; I’m coming.” She pulled the door closed behind her, and the door’s lock clicked into place. There was a faint reflection from the lights outside that made it so Mallory could make out the outlines of the stairs as she descended. “Alex? Alex? Talk to me, Alex!”
Alex was still screaming, but Mallory could hear her were words now: “Dikaió lights on, Dikaió music play, Dikaió vacuum sprite clean, Dikaió kitchen sprites cook, Dikaió water pump, Dikaió door open.” The house remained silent and indifferent to her voice.
Mallory stepped gingerly over the pictures of the Administrators that Alex had pulled down from the hallway walls and picked her way carefully toward her friend—then she heard glass shattering in the kitchen. She turned the corner to find Alex standing on the counter throwing dishes at the kitchen sprites hurrying to clean up the broken bits of glass. “Listen to me! I am the Dikaió Administrator Alex Nelson. Stop cleaning up! Stop!” The sprites busily ignored her, vacuuming up each plate or cup as soon as it was thrown.
