Story Thieves Part 21

Bethany grinned. "Yup." She punched him farther into the ground, far enough so that sand poured in on top of him, blinding his eyes. When the Magister finally dug himself to the surface using his new-found superspeed and strength, Bethany was gone.

"You can't hide from me, Bethany!" he shouted into the nothingness. A quick retrieval spell sent a page from another book flying into his hands, and he leaped in after her.

This time he emerged right in the middle of a crus.h.i.+ng waterfall.

The Magister quickly cast a flying spell, which kept him steady beneath the torrent of water. Unfortunately, he still couldn't breathe as thousands of gallons poured over him. Just as he tried to cast a breathing-under-water spell, two men plowed into him, sending him falling down into the river below.

A little ways downriver, the Magister floated to the surface, one of the men on his back. The other appeared to have hit the river too hard to survive, not having the benefit of a semi-floating magician to land on.

"Sherlock Holmes was supposed to die, falling off that waterfall," Bethany said from the sh.o.r.e as the Magister floated by. "It was a whole thing with his nemesis, Moriarty. But you just saved him. Millions of readers will thank you. He's very popular."

And with that, she leaped into another page, which floated away on the breeze.

The Magister dragged himself out of the river and grabbed the page with another spell as quickly as he could. The farther ahead Bethany got, the more of these traps she could lay for him.

He poked his head in more carefully this time, to see what awaited him. . . .

Only to quickly pull it back out as a dragon's mouth snapped shut around the spot where his head had just been.

The Magister caught his breath, then murmured a spell of protection and pushed in again. The dragon bit down once more, only to stop in place as it hit a blue bubble of magical safety. "Tell me where the girl went," the Magister asked the surprised dragon in its own language.

"The key is gone. Why must you torment me!" the dragon shouted, and sent a flame that could melt rock exploding into the blue bubble.

Even as the Magister realized where he was, the heat from the flame began to seep through the protective spell, and he soared into the air to get a better look, the flying spell he'd cast previously still in effect. Below him were vast piles of gold, enough to fill an ocean.

The dragon's tail plowed into his protective spell from behind and sent him careening into the gold hard enough to send incalculable riches spraying. Though he wasn't hurt, the Magister was starting to lose track of where he was, let alone where the girl might be hiding.

Enough was enough!

"STOP!" he commanded, unleas.h.i.+ng the full power of his magic on the dragon. "I do not want your key. My apprentice already took it, did he not?"

"Yes, the Gnomenfoot!" the dragon shrieked, writhing in pain from the force of the Magister's magic. "Please, let me be! I just want to be left alone, now that I've failed in my protection duty!"

"Tell me where the girl went," the Magister demanded.

As the dragon opened his mouth to speak, something yanked on the Magister's foot, pulling him down into the piece of paper that he'd been unknowingly standing right on top of.

He found himself floating in nothingness, surrounded on all sides by metal s.p.a.ces.h.i.+ps, much like the ones in Dr. Verity's fleet, only larger and more dangerous-looking.

As he quickly cast a spell to ensure he could breathe, one of the s.p.a.ces.h.i.+ps sent out an enormous orange glowing light, streaking toward the largest of the other s.p.a.ces.h.i.+ps. The targeted s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p sent out a light of its own, with both on course to collide right where the Magister floated.

One glow hit another just feet away from him, and the entire universe began to explode.

"BETHANY!" the Magister shouted into the nothingness, his voice not traveling at all in s.p.a.ce, even as his magical spell of protection quickly peeled away beneath the force of the bomb. Everything turned to bright white, and the Magister closed his eyes, awaiting his end.

Except nothing happened.

He opened his eyes, and found himself on a white plane of nothingness, surrounded by arrows, lines, and numbers.

"You're lucky," Bethany said from behind him. "I thought about leaving you there in that last one. It's pretty intense science fiction, and they don't mess around with their endings. If I remember right, that bomb started a second big bang. Even your magic wouldn't have survived that."

The Magister pushed himself to his feet, and instantly attacked, casting the spell Paralyzed With Fear straight at Bethany.

Bethany, however, just smiled.

The Magister's mouth dropped in surprise, and he quickly cast another spell. Nothing again. "What is this place?!" he shouted.

"I found this in the books you took. Probably from Jonathan Porterhouse's school days. This is where I'm leaving you. You can't do any harm here, since your magic won't work. And if your magic won't work, that means you can't keep stealing my power. And that means you're not jumping back out after me." She shrugged. "Should have looked before you leaped, I guess."

"Where have you brought me?" the magician demanded. "Why does my magic no longer work?"

She grinned wider. "The entire point of this place is that there's no such thing as magic. Everything here? All the graphs and numbers and equations? It all adds up to you not going anywhere. Maybe I'll let you out someday. After you pa.s.s a test, to show what you learned."

"You can't do this!" the Magister shouted. "You're no different from the rest of your kind, taking my freedom while you laugh. Enjoy yourself, girl! Enjoy yourself at my expense!"

Bethany's grin faded, and she sighed. "Here's what you don't understand about the fictional world," she told him. "I don't know if authors watch what you do on some kind of television in their brain, or make the stories up purely from their imaginations. But we don't read about you because we're bored, or just to amuse ourselves. We read about you to be with you, to walk in someone else's shoes, to experience another life. Some of those lives are hard, and others are easy, but we're with you every step of the way. We read about people in impossible situations because we're dealing with horrible things ourselves, in our lives. And you going through your story helps us with ours, no matter how yours ends. Though I do think we both like a happy ending, don't we?"

"That doesn't give you the right-"

"Think about it this way," she said. "You thought of yourself as alone for so many years, fighting against Dr. Verity. But there were hundreds, even thousands of readers on my world who lived it with you. Who felt every victory, every defeat, and want more than anything for you to win. Who cried, actually cried when they thought you died. Those are the people you're trying to make suffer, the ones who've been on your team this entire time. Just something to think about."

And with that, she leaped out of the page from Jonathan Porterhouse's old school math book about multiplying fractions, leaving the Magister to scream alone into nothingness.

CHAPTER 40.

The Science Soldiers pushed Charm's floating stretcher through the halls of the Presidential Palace, and Owen followed, trying not to stare at the wonders around him. Water flowed against gravity in energy fields that transported it to the higher floors. Lights exploded at atomic levels, miniature nuclear bombs that continually formed new atoms, then split those, creating perpetual light without using any energy.

And then there were the holograms.

As far as Owen could tell, the palace was filled with people, unlike the city outside, yet no one was real. Everyone used the same kind of hologram technology that Dr. Verity had used on their s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p, going about their business while their body stayed home. It was almost like the Nalwork, just with fewer ads.

The Science Soldiers walked right through the holograms, at least the ones who didn't pay enough attention to step out of the robots' way. Just to test, Owen ran a hand through a hologram of a man in what looked to be a formal uniform of some kind. The man gave him a strange look, and beneath his helmet, Owen blushed. Whoops.

The robots continued on into the palace, finally arriving at the largest, most expensive-looking of all the rooms Owen had seen so far. This seemed to be some kind of audience chamber for the president, and it was empty of people, holograms, and soldiers. The clank of robot feet on gla.s.s floor seemed extra loud as the Science Soldiers walked Charm toward an extremely large desk made of brown metal, sculpted to look like wood.

The chair behind the desk turned, and Dr. Verity pushed to his feet, a wide smile on his face. "Welcome, soldiers," he said, and gestured for them to line up before him.

The soldiers immediately moved to stand at attention, Charm's unconscious body floating just in front of the line. Owen quickly took a spot at the end of the line and tried his best to stand as still as possible in the same pose as the rest.

"Commander, report," Dr. Verity said, stepping in front of Charm's body. "I see you found the missing daughter of the former president."

"AFFIRMATIVE," the commander said in its monotone voice. "CRIMINAL CHARM MENTUM WAS LOCATED IN THE CRASH SITE OF THE s.p.a.cEs.h.i.+P PREVIOUSLY LICENSED TO HER FATHER, THE FORMER PRESIDENT MENTUM, NOW DECEASED. s.p.a.cEs.h.i.+P IS NOW UNUSABLE, DUE TO-"

Dr. Verity waved his hand. "I don't care. What about the boy?"

"NO YOUNG HUMAN MALE WAS LOCATED-"

Dr. Verity smiled. "Oh, yes, he was. There was indeed a young human male located at the crash site. But we can get into that later. For now, there are more important matters to discuss." He reached down and touched Charm's cheek, shaking his head sadly. "It didn't need to come to this, Ms. Mentum. You never should have survived the first attack on your family, honestly."

Owen gritted his teeth to keep still while Dr. Verity turned his back and sighed. "And now you've gone and injured yourself even further, which surprises me. I figured you'd survive the crash over the boy. But . . . could it be? Did you protect him?" He began to laugh, then patted her shoulder. "Oh, my dear girl. What a waste!"

"ORDERS, SIR?" the Science Soldier commander asked, but Dr. Verity just waved his hand again.

"I'm not finished, Commander. You see, things are about to change. My armies are even now beginning their attacks on Magisteria. And without the Magister, those pathetic magic-users will have no one to organize them, to lead them against my antimagic robots from all realities." He stopped, as if considering things. "Still, those spell-eaters will do their best to defend themselves, casting their disgusting magic and such. Why waste the time and energy to fight them? Why not just use our new weapon?"

"WEAPON, SIR?"

"Why, the very same one that Kiel Gnomenfoot hoped to use against me, Commander. The one he journeyed all the way here to find. You see, the fabled Source of Magic has been locked away under this palace for thousands and thousands of years. When the first magic-users left Quanterium, they hid the Source inside the Vault of Containment to keep it safe. Here, on a world of science!" He snorted. "Truly disgusting that it's been here so long. But I've developed a weapon-a bomb, really. It's quite simple. It takes the power of the Source of Magic, recognizes any quantum connection between the Source and those who have ever used magic, anyone in all of history, and destroys them. Rather dramatically, too, I'd imagine. I'm hoping they'll be burned from the inside, personally." He smiled. "Billions will die, of course," he said. "Throughout s.p.a.ce and time. But magic will quite truly be no more. And it will all be thanks to the majesty of science!"

A bomb?! That's what this had all been about? Everything Kiel and Charm had done, seven books of finding keys, and it'd all been a manipulation, a trap on Dr. Verity's part? And now here Owen was with the first six keys, and a heart for the seventh, delivering them right to Dr. Verity? He had to escape before the doctor found him!

Dr. Verity stopped and glanced at the Science Soldier. "No questions, Commander?"

"NO, SIR."

"Obedience," Dr. Verity said, clapping his hands. "I love obedience! The fun part of all of this, though, Commander, is that I shouldn't have been able to do any of this. You see, those clever little magic-users thought of everything. They knew that we pure, true-hearted scientists might someday want to destroy their precious Source. So they ensured that only a scientist working with a magic-user could possibly locate all the keys to open the vault." He grinned. "But what self-respecting Quanterian would ever a.s.sociate with a Magisterian? I needed a magician if I had any hope of getting into that vault." He made a face. "Given that I was once one of those horrible creatures myself, thousands of years ago, I know how things worked there."

Dr. Verity gave the commander a look, and when the robot didn't say anything, the scientist hit a b.u.t.ton. The robot jolted, then asked, "WORKED, SIR?"

"Science builds upon what exists, Commander. Just like logic. But magic . . . dirty, horrible magic creates something where nothing once existed. And magic so infuses Magisteria now that it's changed how life there works." He shook his head. "There, those with nothing inevitably become the most important. Orphans. Forgotten children. The least among the least. Magisteria takes those downtrodden and builds them up, just like magic does." He looked disgusted. "You should see their greatest heroes. All came from nothing. It's almost a cliche there now. But when one understands the reasoning why, then one-I-can work with it. All I had to do was drop a child into one of their cities, produce a threat, and sit back waiting for my hero. Nothing could have been easier!"

He hit the b.u.t.ton again, and the commander jumped. "HERO, SIR?"

"But I needed a trustworthy child," Dr. Verity told the robot. "One I could count on to follow through and eventually see things my way. And since I trust no one but myself, I had no choice: clone myself. And it worked! My old friend the Magister found the little me and taught the boy everything he'd need to know to deliver me my keys. And do you know what, Commander?"

"NO, SIR?"

Dr. Verity leaned forward, then looked around as if to check if anyone was listening. Then, he whispered, "I think that boy might have even found the last one, the Seventh Key. The one that was destroyed!"

Dr. Verity waited for a reaction, but got none from the Science Soldier. Finally, the doctor sighed and shook his head. "You're a terrible audience, you know that?"

"YES, SIR."

"Good," Dr. Verity said. "Now, if only there was someone else here to listen to me go on and on like this. Someone who thinks he's disguised, tricking me into letting him run free in the Presidential Palace so he can go open the vault and use the Source of Magic against me."

. . . . Uh-oh.

"Kiel?" Dr. Verity said, and the other Science Soldiers all took one large step back. Owen quickly did the same, but far too late.

"Oh, Kiel, let's not play this game anymore," the doctor said, picking up a laser rifle almost three feet long from the desk and aiming it right at Owen. "Please, you're insulting my intelligence! And if there's one thing I absolutely won't stand for, it's an insult to my intelligence."

Owen winced and pulled off his mask.

"Ah, there he is!" Dr. Verity said, beaming. "The apprentice magician. The one destined to defeat the big bad Dr. Verity. The clone himself, ready to take a shot at the real deal!" He winked. "You are quite intimidating."

And then Dr. Verity shot Owen right in the chest with the laser rifle.

"Well, at least you were," the doctor said. "Commander! Have your soldiers search his body for the keys." He grinned widely. "It's time I got to play with a weapon of magical destruction!"

CHAPTER 41.

A shrink ray?!" Kiel shouted at her.

"It worked, didn't it?" Bethany asked, frantically looking through the shelves. "Stop complaining and help me look!"

"A shrink ray," Kiel repeated. "You do understand that when you shrank down the monsters, you hit me as well? Meaning they could still easily eat me? Not to mention the insects that used to be normal-sized but now were spiders the size of small horses?"

"You're fine," Bethany said, pulling a book off the shelf, then tossing it away. Where were they?

"A shrink ray," Kiel said, shaking his head. "I was almost eaten for a forty-third time!"

"Forty-fourth," Bethany said absently. "And aren't you the one who told me to be more fictional? To take more risks? Don't you like danger?"

"Well, yes," he said indignantly. "Though it is a bit less fun without magic, I can't lie. What'd you do with all those monsters, anyway?"

She nodded at a large overturned bowl in the middle of the library. "Rounded them up and threw that over them," she said. "They're kind of cute, at that size."

"Not if you're that size too," he said, tapping the bowl. "Aww, look at the little blob monster! Blub blub blub!"

"We'll put them back where they belong as soon as I find the last Kiel Gnomenfoot . . . the last you book." She'd seen copies of the series when she was in here last. She'd even taken a copy of the first book, which she'd used in her chase with the Magister. But where had it-AH! "Kiel Gnomenfoot and the Source of Magic!" she said, yanking the book off the shelf. "This is it!"

"Shouldn't it be blank without me in it?" Kiel asked, giving the book a confused look.

Bethany quickly opened to the one of the final chapters. "No, because Owen somehow turned into you and lived out your story." Of course he had. Why had she a.s.sumed that just because Owen was trapped outside of s.p.a.ce and time he still couldn't get himself into trouble?

"No one turns into me," Kiel said, looking offended. "I'm one of a kind."

"Now you're two of a kind," she said, showing him the page she'd flipped to.

Kiel's eyes opened to find Dr. Verity bending over him. "AAH!" he screamed in surprise, and tried to push himself backward but found he was strapped down.

"Wow," Kiel said, cringing. "Things don't look like they've gone too well."