The Currents of Magic

Chapter Forty-Five

The sound of the clanking guards carrying Trant away faded quickly, and soon there was complete silence in the basement of the Alchemy Building. At first Meyer did not move, his eyes fixed on the open doorway of Trant's office, but then he noticed the cold stone beneath his fingertips, and he ran his hand slowly along the floor. His palm came away dusty with the residue of the rock explosion Trant had caused.

Meyer shivered, trying to regain his bearings.

Trant had attacked him mercilessly... But only to break him-to force out his magical talent... Still, if Adryn had not have arrived...

Meyer tried not to think what might have happened. The pain was still fresh in his mind, and even thinking of Trant sent tremors through his body. Worse, he could not rid himself of the feeling that Trant would burst through the door and attack him again. He felt weak and vulnerable, and wanted nothing more than to hide-never to see another person again-not Trant, not Adryn, not Moon...

Not anyone.

He couldn't bear to look into another person's eyes.

But as Meyer sat motionless on the floor, his thoughts turned to the recent events, specifically Adryn's subduing of Trant. The outnumbered Planar hadn't seemed nervous when Adryn and the guards arrived... He had calmly stated his purpose-insisted that he was the singular force holding the Magician at bay... Even when the confrontation began, Trant had appeared in control; only when he was taken from the room...

Meyer suddenly remembered the fearful look in the Planar's eyes.

"The answers are in the box," he had said. "I spilled your blood for a reason."

Meyer contemplated the words, unnerved but unable to think of anything else. Trant had been looking at him when he spoke... I spilled your blood for a reason... The words were directed at him...

But when had Trant spilled his blood?

And then before Meyer could fully process the question, he rose to his feet, approaching Trant's desk. The box was in the first drawer he opened, and as he lifted the wooden container onto the desk, his hand trembled. The small chest was just as he remembered: four curved legs with an intricately carved lid and a smooth handle. Unquestionably it was the same box that had been resting on Trant's desk over a month ago when the Planar had first employed his physically abusive tactics.

Meyer could remember the incident as though it had happened only days before. Trant had challenged his determination, and when Meyer had resolved to continue his training, the Planar had slashed him with a knife, repeatedly opening his arm as he healed the wound... Trant had continually spilled his blood... And then-as he had staggered from the room in a foggy haze... Trant had collected the blood, whisking it into a glass vial...

The answers are in the box. I spilled your blood for a reason.

Meyer opened three more drawers of Trant's desk, searching until he found a small knife. He extended his left arm over the box, and held the cold metal blade to his skin. His heart was pounding and his mind racing, but he hardly doubted the meaning of Trant's words. The Planar must have sealed the container with a Blood Seal, using his blood... He could only wonder why...

Without further hesitation, Meyer ran the knife across his arm.

Blood oozed forth and he put the knife down, resting his bloodied arm against the box. When he withdrew his arm, the top of the box was streaked with red, but Meyer's focus was around the center of the container. A glowing orange ring had formed where the lid joined with the box, and the light was growing stronger.

Reaching forward, Meyer grasped the smooth handle atop the container, and when he lifted his hand, the lid detached without the slightest resistance. Inside was a neat pile of folded parchment. Withdrawing the first paper, Meyer began to read.