Modern Magick

Royalty and Ruin: 16

By the time I returned, two of the beleaguered books had begun beating themselves against the walls of their glass-fronted houses. Whether they were trying to escape, or merely entertaining themselves, was unclear.

'Mauf,' I yelled over the tumult. 'What is going on here?'

'They appear to be in a state of some excitement,' said Mauf gravely.

'Yes, I can see that, but why? Can you talk to them?'

'I would as usefully talk to a wall. A more empty-headed set of volumes I never did encounter.'

'Is that the truth, Mauf, or do you exaggerate for effect?'

'A very little exaggeration only, Miss Vesper.'

What could he mean? The word "empty-headed" must be an expression he had picked up from us, or some other book; it could not literally apply here. Were the books devoid of useful content, or were they somehow empty of words altogether?

I wanted to examine one. Unfortunately, the glass walls behind which they were imprisoned must have been magickally reinforced; for all their pounding and bouncing, none had contrived to escape.

So I fetched out my Sunstone Wand, and with a flick and a whisper, sent a bolt of crackling fire at the nearest of them — which happened (entirely by chance, I swear) to be the happy-natured jade-green book.

My little fireball bounced harmlessly off the glass and fell to the stone floor, where it lay sulking and sizzling.

'Damn.'

'You want that one?' said Rob, withdrawing the Lapis Lazuli Wand from his sleeve.

'Please, and thank you.' I smiled.

He did his glass-shattering trick. I've never been able to master it. The glass imprisoning my chosen book turned ink-black, then cracked into a thousand pieces and fell away in a rain of... sand, this time.

'Ouch,' Rob grunted. 'Powerful enchantments in here.' A sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead. He frowned, and stared at the Wand as though he'd never seen it before. 'I feel like that shouldn't have worked.'

I ran and snatched up the book before it could get any bright ideas about, say, flying away, and opened it with breathless eagerness.

I saw at once what Mauf had meant.

'It's not that there aren't words,' I said, showing the pages to the others. 'But something's... happened to them.' Page after page was full of gibberish, the genuinely nonsensical kind. I didn't see a single coherent word, not in any language I knew, and besides that they were no longer arranged in the tidy rows one tended to expect. A great many letters, and in some cases whole words, had wandered off, wriggling all over the page like snails at a picnic. As I watched, some turned odd colours and faded away, then reappeared.

'It isn't some kind of code?' said Jay, but doubtfully.

'Not consistent enough, surely?' I said. 'Do you see any coherence whatsoever?'

Mauf, still tucked under my left arm, said clearly: 'Magick-addled.'

'It's what?' I said.

'Round the bend,' clarified Mauf. 'It probably gets worse every time.'

'Every time what... uh, Indira?' Something moved at the edge of my vision. I looked that way just in time to see Jay's sober and serious sister shoot into the air like a firework, her dark skirt and airy white blouse fluttering. Her hair streamed in a wind I could not feel.