Chapter Thirty: Gone With the Wind
Trayakal would never be quite sure what happened to Mordred next. Gone was the haughty, powerful wizard he had both respected and feared; in its place was a crazed beast.
He tried to guess what was going through Mordred's mind. All those years had led up to this single moment, and faster than he could blink it was gone forever. Mordred's lifelong ambition had shattered in his face, and with it had shattered the last shred of self-restraint Mordred had had.
Magic, wild and untamable, in a normal quantity is enough for one person; Mordred held the magic of thousands within himself. Most powerful wizard or not, he was still a man, and the amount of magic within him must have been suffocating. Trayakal could only imagine the strength he must have had to restrain himself for so long. It wasn't easy, Trayakal knew—it was no wonder his master was half-crazy.
But something within him had now snapped. It didn't matter what had broken or even what caused it anymore. What mattered now was that Mordred was not himself anymore; the magic had taken over. It controlled him, poured forth its power in a frenzy of enraged madness.
Hex after curse after jinx smacked into Two-Bit, but he seemed not to register pain. He was lying on the floor, weeping, his arms solidly around Carmen. Trayakal wanted to grab him by the collar and yell, "She's dead, you moron! Save yourself!" But he stayed back, fearing that the line of fire might be turned on him if he made so much as one false move.
Mordred wrenched Two-Bit off Carmen and shook him by the collar. "Where is it? What have you done with it?"
Done with what? Trayakal wondered. Silly question, he told himself, he means Aashtri.
"I don't know!" Two-Bit had composed himself enough to say. "I don't know what happened to it!"
"Liar!" Mordred rasped. "It is no longer present in her body. She must have given it to you!"
"I swear to god she didn't!" Two-Bit yelled, sweat mingling with the tears on his face.
Mordred dropped him to the ground. Trayakal stared at his master, transfixed. To look at Mordred's eyes was like looking at the sun; it burned and left spots when you looked away. His left arm was no longer stained black, but what Trayakal could see of his body glowed, illuminated from inside as magic seeped through every pore.
"If you will not speak the truth," Mordred intoned harshly, "I shall bring it forth from you!"
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Two-Bit barely felt anything Mordred did to him. He was numb, his senses dulled from shock. And it was just as well. Mordred tore into him in the only way he knew how to, by causing physical pain.
It would have been worse if he could have tapped into Two-Bit's senses, said or done something that would have emotionally killed him. But he was incapable of such—a lifetime of straightforward, mathematical, logical strategy had rendered him psychologically inept.
Two-Bit didn't know Mordred well, but he knew this. He knew because Carmen had told him once before. He didn't remember when or what the circumstances had been, only that she had said it. She had said, "I don't know what Mordred's doing sending that goon," she had meant Trayakal, "after me. He's usually straightforward in his attacks."
It was just as well that Two-Bit was numb all over, although he was starting to feel a burning sensation in his limbs. He glanced down and received another immense shock at the state of his body: his legs were twisted beneath him, mangled and visibly cracked bones showing white in the bloody mess. His arms were no better off, his fingernails ripped out and his shoulders dislocated, and he could feel a warm liquid sensation in his stomach. Looking down, he saw that it was his own blood.
All this, and yet he was alive. Mordred probably didn't even recognize it, but that was the worst punishment of all.
Mordred wasn't finished yet. "I shall give you one last chance, mortal," he warned. "Tell me what she has done with the power, and you go free."
Two-Bit didn't know. But it was pointless trying to tell that to Mordred. So he did what he always did when all else failed: he lied.
"It's still inside her body," he said.
"You lie," Mordred said curtly.
He thought frantically. Think, man, think! he told himself. Where's a place that Mordred could never get to it?
He knew that if he stalled too long, Mordred would see right through his lie. "It's in her mind," he said. "Power goes straight to their minds when they die. Protection or something." What he was saying was utter nonsense and Mordred should have been able to see right through that one.
But Mordred was not in his normal state of mind. At this point, Two-Bit suspected, the animalistic rawness of power had taken over completely, inhibiting Mordred until there was no room left for whatever passed for a soul in that man…
Two-Bit could do nothing as Mordred assaulted Carmen's body. But there was nothing he could do, nothing that would succeed in extracting the power from Carmen's mind that probably wasn't even there.
He could do nothing but watch and hope for the best.
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Trayakal was beyond horror or shock. He was now merely observing with mild interest the scene before him. He didn't care who won or lost at this point, as long as he remained in a state of nonalignment.
Mordred battered Carmen ruthlessly. He beat her relentlessly with his fists where he once would have used magic. At long last he ceased his attack, howling in agony where he once would have cursed in fury.
"It is of no use!" he screamed. "Sorcery is the only way to penetrate the mind, and that is what must be obtained! It is an impossible quest!"
Trayakal instinctively stepped backwards, further receding into the shadows. He was witnessing a terrifying transformation of his master—his former master. He wanted no part of it.
It was a scene straight from a horror movie: Mordred thrashing around on the floor in agony, wild-eyed and the power of magic clashing within him, tangling his rational thought and twisting his very being.
Where's an exorcist when you need one? Trayakal wondered. He turned his eyes away from Mordred, and they fell on Carmen.
He blinked and for a moment he could've sworn he'd seen the color draining from Carmen's face, seen her limbs loosen, her body relax. A chill shimmied up his spine. She's here, the thought crossed his mind, his Finder's sense tingling.
Looking across the room, he could see Two-Bit shivering slightly, too.
It came again, louder and more insistent. She's here.
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It hadn't hurt. She hadn't felt anything at all as she watched Two-Bit's swimming green eyes, his face already crumpling with the coming tears, except for lightheadedness from blood loss. But that hadn't lasted long.
Her power was liquid silver in her left palm, snaking its way to her heart. It rose to the surface from there, and with it her spirit rose with it; her soul freed of its prison in her body.
It really was true, what they said—about only being truly free in your dreams. Dreams, in which rational thought sleeps and the caged soul is released, inhibitions discarded. She was leaving the clay she had resided in for so long, renouncing life and its burdens. She had never realized how trapped she had been.
Outside, the first few droplets of rain tumbled from the sky.
Carmen knew that she was dead. So why could she still see Trayakal, fading into the background once more, Mordred—What's happening to him? she thought—and Two-Bit, who she had thought would be the last person she'd ever see crying…was that her body?
For a while she just watched, not knowing what she was supposed to do. She did nothing as Mordred abused Two-Bit and her own body, but as the wizard truly began to lose his mind she sprang into action.
Everything was crystalline clear now. She had never realized how small-minded she had been as a human—petty, prejudiced, prioritizing. Without life's burdens, everything was simpler.
Her senses were much better than they were before. She could see every vein in Mordred's pale, translucent skin, hear every sharp ragged breath of Two-Bit's as though he were rasping by her ear, even feel the slightly electric change in the air around Trayakal as his Finder's sense found her. She was impressed; even dead she was susceptible to him. Then she realized that her power was still with her, and his Finder's sense probably just recognized her magical aura, like she was detecting his.
She didn't want to deal with Trayakal, though. Not now and probably not ever. The person she was headed for was Two-Bit.
He shivered as she breezed past him. The hair on his arms stood up as she whispered in his ear: Let me in.
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Two-Bit stiffened. Had he just heard what he thought he did?
"Of course you did, nitwit," she sighed.
Yep. That was definitely Carmen talking to him, just like that was definitely her lying on the ground over there.
"I'm dead," she continued, "But not gone. Let me in."
Two-Bit tried hard to relax, to open his mind to her. It wasn't working.
"Stop trying," Carmen commanded. "Let me in."
He didn't know how. He shut his eyes and thought of her, imagined her to be an angel whispering in his ear, wanted her there with him. And his mind opened to her, swung wide open to let her in. It was the last one that had done it; you had to have complete, unconditional trust for a person to want them inside your mind, the only place you were really safe.
It was like someone was pouring ice water in his ear. He winced, and thankfully the feeling faded fast. It felt crowded, like they were sitting on the same chair. They both fit, but awkwardly.
What do I do? he cried desperately. Carmen, you can't be dead. I need you.
I'm right here, she said.
I'm sorry. I killed you, Carmen, how can you be here, how can you stand to—
Carmen sounded more amused than annoyed as she placated him: You forget that I asked you to. It's okay, she said, interrupting his thought. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere.
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A shiver ran up Trayakal's arms. She's here.
Without warning, Mordred turned around and caught Two-Bit by the neck. When he spoke, it was in a language Trayakal didn't understand.
"Rhsgtasr hefg kwuhrr aiur Aashtri akuthuyam?" he rasped.
Two-Bit couldn't speak for Mordred's bony fingers against his throat. He blinked, once, twice, and Trayakal did a double take. Had his eyes just changed color?
"You have lied, mortal," Mordred spoke in the same manner he had when Trayakal had attempted to run away, "and now shall thou—"
"No."
Trayakal felt his face go pale, his eyes widen, his heart beat faster. The mouth moving had been Two-Bit's, but the voice had been Carmen's.
Mordred dropped his grip on Two-Bit, who landed on his feet. The changes—in movement, facial expression, posture, and, of course, the eyes—were evident. It was Two-Bit's body, but Trayakal could only see Carmen.
"These are my last moments on earth," Carmen said. "When I am gone, so will be my power."
"So shall I take it now!" Mordred's voice grated.
"Go ahead and try," Carmen challenged. "I can leave anytime I want, and when I do, it will be permanent."
"You shall leave your power with the mortal, will you not?"
"You know well enough that once it enters his body it will convert to his own type of wizardry."
"I can and will take it from you!"
"You can't," Carmen stated simply.
Mordred extended a hand towards Carmen. "Truly?" he said quietly. His voice sounded normal now. "Do you truly believe that?"
"Yes," Carmen said.
"Then prove it," Mordred said, his hand still extended.
It was all Trayakal could do not to roll his eyes. Did Mordred really believe Carmen would so easily fall for that one? Of course he would take it.
Apparently she would, because she extended Two-Bit's arm and placed his hand in Mordred's.
Trayakal would never know quite exactly what happened next. The process started the way it always did—magic visibly channeling from the victim to Mordred. But then something occurred that Trayakal had never seen before. The magic flowing freely into Mordred's veins frosted over, literally forming a fine coat of freezing sparkling white dust.
Mordred's expression hardened from one of triumph into one of pain. Yet he did not let go. Trayakal knew he wouldn't, no matter how unbearable the pain became. His ambition overpowered whatever he might feel—physical pain, emotional loss, guilt.
The ice spread once inside Mordred's body, extending to his muscles, his skin. As Trayakal watched in fascinated horror, his master was becoming an icicle.
Carmen maintained her steady grip as the last of the frigid magic extended to Mordred, and she leaned Two-Bit's body forward and blew gently on Mordred.
Trayakal didn't know how to feel—sorrowful, ecstatic—as the body of his master shattered like a dropped hand mirror into a thousand irreplaceable shards.
"He's gone," Trayakal found himself saying stupidly.
"Forever," Carmen said.
"I know why you did it," Trayakal said. "So, how did you do it?"
"I didn't have to," Carmen said calmly. "Mordred was wrong about one thing. He couldn't control all that magic within himself. He was already on the brink of an overload. That was just the last straw. It would have happened with any type of magic."
"How do you know all this?" Trayakal asked.
Carmen smiled, her Mona Lisa-like smirk out-of-place on Two-Bit's mouth. "It's amazing how clear everything is once you're free of being human."
"But…the magic?" Trayakal said. "What happened to it?"
Carmen shrugged Two-Bit's shoulders. "I don't know."
Trayakal didn't know either. But one thing he did know, thanks to his Finder's sense: Mordred was gone. He wasn't anywhere in this world anymore, nor would he ever be. At
long last, the one thing that had driven him so far had killed him: his ambition.
Trayakal breathed a sigh of relief, a sigh of freedom. He turned and walked down the stairs, across the maze of hallways he had memorized over the years. He never stopped once, not even when he slammed the massive mahogany door behind him. He continued walking until he reached the road, when he broke into a run. He was free, and he was never looking back again.
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Slowly, agonizingly, Two-Bit felt Carmen let him back in control over his body. For a moment it was a mystery to him why it was taking her so long, but then he realized what she was doing. She was separating herself from her magic, leaving it all behind.
Their magic had crossed paths before, but for the first time ever they were coming together, fusing into one. Carmen—her spirit or soul or whatever of her was left over—flowed through him. He could feel her in every nerve, in every cell. She was everywhere all at once, and it felt natural, as if she had just always been there, like oxygen.
Why doesn't it hurt? he said.
Carmen didn't answer.
Carmen? he said.
Still no answer.
Carmen? Two-Bit was shouting across his mind now, panicking. Carmen!
A strange reaction was taking place in his body. His legs tingled as if they had fallen asleep and were coming to life in pins and needles, his shoulders twitched uncontrollably and the hairs on his arms stood on end.
Shocks as though he had banged his funny bone were shooting through them. He looked down at them. Frayed sinewy threads of skin were braiding, blood vessels sealing and scars fading as he watched, amazed. Within seconds he could stand up.
Damn, he thought. They don't call it rapid recovery for nothing.
A faint hint of laughter that was not his own came from the back of his mind.
"Carmen!" he screamed aloud. "Carmen, answer me! Where are you? Tell me, goddammit!"
I'm here, she said.
Before he could say anything, Carmen spoke again: I can't stay anymore.
"What? Whaddya mean, you can't stay?" Two-Bit shouted.
I could only stay because of my power. Magic is an earthly thing…and I don't belong to the Earth anymore. It was tying me down.
"Now what?" Two-Bit wailed. "You're just going to leave? Just like that?"
I'm leaving, but I'm not leaving you.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Two-Bit said, close to tears again. He had already lost her once; now she was going to do this to him all over again?
It means I'm leaving you my power. And not just my power. I'm leaving you my abilities…what I could do with my power, so now you can do it too. I'm leaving you a piece of my soul, Two-Bit.
"What if I need to talk to you?" Two-Bit whispering now for some reason.
I'll be here. Or there. Or wherever. But you'll find some way to get to me. I found a way to get to my dad, and I know you'll find me too.
And she was gone. Two-Bit felt a chill up his spine and in his chest as her spirit evaporated in the air. For a split second, he could feel a hand grasping his. He closed his instinctively, hoping futilely as he did so that her hand would really be there.
A gentle breeze stroked his face momentarily. And she was gone, with the fury of the wind.
Who knew where she had gone, or where she was going, or even what she had meant by contacting her. Maybe he had to hold an séance.
Whatever it happened to be, Two-Bit could feel her power revving up in him. It was just like the time she had given him some of her power, only multiplied about twenty times over.
It was what he imagined getting high must be like: a danger that morphs to strange beauty and eloquent dependence. He never wanted it to end.
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One more to go. I promise.