Chapter 30 #4
“A moment of weakness that will not be repeated,” he said briskly. “I am not defeated. This world will be restored, and God will be slain.” A pleading note entered the sorcerer’s voice, which hurt to hear from such a proud man. He fixed his single black eye on me. “Do you believe me, Cameron?”
Never had I been more grateful to be free from the truth spell. “I do.”
Sparing me from further deception, the air split and a thunder of bookshelves fell, spewing their contents onto the tiled plaza. Merulo leaped to his feet, shrieking, his arms raised with the futility of spells he could not cast.
“Hold on, it looks worse than it is,” shouted the dragon, as she dropped through the gap in space and became an outrageously muscular woman once more.
“These are irreplaceable!” The sorcerer clutched at his hair. “You didn’t immobilize them before transport? It’s a simple spell!”
Hydna snorted. “You’re welcome for the help. And wait, I’ll sort this.” With a quick chant, the shelves creaked and righted themselves, the books rising on invisible strings to slot themselves away. Within moments, Merulo’s library had restored itself.
“I suppose they’re in the wrong order now.” Merulo limped toward his re-formed library. Even bereft of magic, his sharp figure and flowing robe made for an imposing sight. He plucked at the closest shelf, examining a book for damage, then ran his hand along the shelf, reading spines.
“Restoration to a past state.” Hydna crossed her arms triumphantly. “It’s a simple spell.”
“Hmm,” said Merulo. “Unnecessary dramatics. Objects that haven’t been disturbed to begin with don’t require restoration. But thank you, nonetheless.” His voice wobbled slightly, I noted with alarm.
I stood with a stretch. “Hey, I know it’s barely noon, but is there anywhere we can rest? Purely for my benefit.”
After thoroughly confirming the health of his books, Merulo allowed us to be led down the winding streets.
Hydna motioned to passing structures like a tour guide, extrapolating their function and history with quips and guffaws.
Though she did it solely for me, I found it hard to pay attention.
As we passed one landmark, a statue of a trident-wielding man, a chill ran through me, and I clutched at Merulo’s sleeve like a child.
Hydna looked back at us, frowning, but to my gratitude she didn’t pry.
“Here we are!” She halted before a sprawling building. “This was probably an inn. There are about twenty rooms with beds, and one giant kitchen. All cleared and clean, thanks to me!”
“Let us pray you make a better maid than Sir Cameron,” Merulo drawled, as his sister ushered us in.
“Oh?” Hydna leaned closer as I passed. “Did he make you wear a little outfit?”
“Uh . . . just my dress?” I said, then flushed. “I was a woman at the time, so the dress was—I mean—Merulo, wait up.” I broke into a trot, escaping Hydna’s laughter.
The sorcerer seemed to know which way to go, but he wavered uncertainly at the base of the staircase. Moving to his side, I wrapped an arm about his waist. He hesitated before accepting the help, leaning against me as we ascended.
“We’ll speak further after Sir Cameron has rested,” Merulo called back. “Be sure to have food and drink prepared.”
His sister hissed, reptilian, but departed without comment.
Even when we reached the top of the stairs, I didn’t stop supporting him.
Having my musculature returned to me definitely had some benefits.
The sorcerer muttered and gestured guidance, and I half carried him through an open door, not bothering to take in the strange materials or ancient decorations.
The waiting bed looked soft and, to Hydna’s credit, clean. Untouched by time—or perhaps simply restored to a past state.
Pulling away from me, Merulo staggered and fell bodily into the bed, not bothering to draw back the sheets. He curled atop the covers like a mangy cat.
The sorcerer had never slept in front of me before.
I had speculated that he spelled himself to be continuously awake, to avoid interruptions to his studies, or that he rested in brief stints behind one of the castle’s many locked doors.
Now, though, he could not avoid me. I’d learn whether he snored or mumbled, and whether, while dreaming, his legs kicked.
Filled with renewed glee at being alive, I threw myself onto the bed beside him, making his frail body bounce.
“What on Larnia do you think you’re doing?” Merulo sat up, a sneer at the ready.
“We’re sharing,” I told him firmly, pushing him back down.
“You can sleep on the floor like a dog,” Merulo said, but without true temper. He returned to his fetal position, and I shaped myself around his back, draping an arm over the jut of his ribs.
“You smell,” said the sorcerer, “like somebody who’s been dragged through a field, sweated through every inch of clothing, and bled all over himself.”
“Ah.” I shuffled closer. “Well, you smell nice.”
I felt the force of his snort through his ribcage. “I don’t smell of anything. Because I, and please understand the emphasis of that ‘I,’ bathe with frequency.”
“No.” I huffed demonstratively, lifting a lock of his oily black hair. “You smell of magic. It’s sharp, like a spice. I used to not like it, but it’s grown on me.”
“Don’t expect me to feel the same about sweat and mud.” But he didn’t insist on me leaving. He shuffled into a more comfortable position, the rise and fall of his chest slowing as sleep began to take him.
I, however, remained sadly conscious. Something was gnawing at me.
After a time, I shook Merulo gently. “Hey, are you awake?”
There was no response.
“HEY?” I tried, just a little bit louder.
“WHAT?” Merulo answered in a snarl, proving that he’d been very much awake and simply ignoring me.
I hugged his thin body tight in a placatory gesture. “It’s something Glenda said. It’s stuck in my mind.”
“The elf? I’d like to have her stuck in my teeth.”
“Gross. Anyway, so she made a fair point, that if I’d been polite enough to die when they wanted, a good number of knights would still be alive today.”
“And?”
“I mean, they’re dead because you killed them. Or your constructs did. Or, wait, you did too, as a dragon.”
“And?”
“Well, it’s just that I don’t feel bad about it.”
“So then,” Merulo’s voice rose to a shout, “why are you bothering me about this? Sleep!”
“I’m just wondering if I’m a bad person, is all.”
Under my arm, I felt his body stiffen in anger.
“And who would they be to decide that? Who are any of them to pass judgement? They live like animals, ignorant of how the world could be, how I will MAKE the world. They needn’t even die, if they would stop throwing themselves at me to be slaughtered.
No, there’s no merit in docility, in obedience, in—in scientific stupidity.
There is no ‘good’ or ‘bad,’ only the truth of my work and the lies of the Church.
You are with me. You’ve spat up all the filth they fed you, and now you will help me tear the restraints free from this world. ”
“Oh,” I said. “Right. Truth and lies. Hadn’t thought of it like that. Good talk, Merulo, I’ll just . . . huh.” I nestled closer, unsure if I should reveal that I was now more confused than ever.
Still, it was better than thinking about that other thing. I wondered if, before he drifted off to sleep for a second time, Merulo felt my trembling.
Returning to a void of nothingness, even of the temporary sort, held little appeal to me. I’d wake, I knew I’d wake, this time and the next, but someday I wouldn’t.
Someday, I would die again.
Drawing what comfort I could from the presence of another warm body, I ordered my eyes to shut, waiting for brain-exhaustion to take me where I wouldn’t go willingly.