Measureless Magic 1: Ch. 15, 16

Sooo... for the first time in a long time, my alpha reader husband hasn't gotten to these before I posted them. I considered not posting them yet, but figured I could just re-post if he suggested substantial changes. Still, read at your own risk and stuff.


Chapter 15

It is said that the world used to have many types of plants and animals, not the few stable species we now know. They weren’t like the monsters that sometimes attack from the magic sea, each one different than the next, but creatures like humans, ants, grandelions and chickens, where the child grows to resemble the parent. Those animals are largely lost to us now, but we have named our nurseries after some of those species in tribute.

• History of the Modern World, age 14 textbook

“Yeah! You can do this, Ravel! You’re a great mage!” 

Ravel marched toward a tile, fists balled and cheeks burning as he tried to talk himself up. He stepped over the border, glared at the magic, and willed it to move.

This time, the ripple was even smaller than before. 

Ravel groaned, putting his face in his hands, grateful no one had been there to witness the display. Why did I think that would work? I was just stomping around like Coach Vyries always did. It didn’t make me feel any better - or perform any better - then. Why did I think it would help now?

He dropped his hands, staring at the tile morosely. I guess I didn’t really think it would help. I just don’t know what else to do.

He glared at the wall of magic for another minute, watching the edge vibrate minutely, before a gurgle from his empty stomach interrupted him. All the orange crunchy food he’d scooped up this morning was long gone, although he emptied out his backpack to be sure he hadn’t missed any.

He hadn’t.

Ravel sighed. He rolled up his spare clothing and started to tuck it back in the bag, then stopped, looking around. 

I’m alone and hungry. But I heard evening bells a while ago. There might be more food at morning bells? Maybe people will show up by then. Maybe they’ll have advice. Plus, there’s tons of space in here: I can get changed and scrub off my shirt and underthings under the faucet, then lay them out on the tiles to dry while I sleep.

The arrows on the tile made it look so simple, but it wasn’t. Not for him.

He sighed. I can’t get much worse at this. I don’t know if being full and rested will make me better, but it can’t hurt.

…

Noise jolted Ravel awake. 

The morning bells were so loud here, far louder than they’d ever sounded at the nursery. He groaned and pushed himself off the ground, looking around the room.

Still just him.

That was disappointing, but at least food had arrived. Ravel had hoped it would - especially after what the older woman had said - but he hadn’t been sure. His clothes were only a little damp, so he gathered them and tucked them into the top of his bag before looking at the food.

There were none of the green or orange sticks he’d eaten yesterday, unfortunately, just a collection of smaller objects in a variety of shapes and colors. It didn’t look like a ton of food - far less than had arrived for the dozens he’d been sharing a room with yesterday - so Ravel guessed the castle knew he was alone here.

He sampled one of each of the things he’d been given. All seemed edible, but the speckled red things were the best: sweet and juicy. Clearly, he had to eat all of those first, since they’d get damaged easily in his bag. The other things he’d been given weren’t sweet at all - sometimes bitter - and harder to chew.

But at least that toughness should mean they keep alright in my bag while I travel. Ravel grimaced. Assuming I make it out of this room. 

As he finished his strange breakfast, another person arrived in the room.

“Hah! I got you, castle! Can’t distract me when I’m fresh,” Raza crowed. “Huh. What’s going on here? No maze?”

Ravel shook his head, surprised at how delighted he was to see another face. “This room’s different. I think we’re supposed to control the magic? Put it into the center of the tile?”

Raza sauntered over to one of the tiles. “Yeah, looks like. Nice. An easy one.”

“It’s not that easy,” Ravel said. “It-”

Barriers snapped into place around Raza. One edge of the tile dropped, giving Raza only enough time for a surprised “Whoa!’ before she slid downward. 

Moments later, the tile rose again, clicking back into place. 

The barriers dropped.

Ravel stared.

She was here for less than a minute! Could she really succeed so quickly?

No! It must have been… a punishment? 

But it didn’t look like she did anything wrong. 

And it didn’t seem like she was hurt, just surprised.

Maybe I’m doing something wrong.

If only I could have asked her…

Ravel walked over to the tile Raza had used. He pushed at the edge that had dropped before, but it was sealed to the rest of the floor once more, with no sign of its recent antics. 

Maybe this tile is easier?

It took only a moment’s effort to prove that wasn’t the case.

Ravel sighed.

The hard floor wasn’t a comfortable place to doze, and the bright lights overhead weren’t conducive to sleep. He’d laid awake for some time, and he’d woken more than once in discomfort, needing to adjust how he was resting before he could drop back off. The fitful, disrupted sleep had given him plenty of time to think, and his subconscious mind had been working hard as well, offering him dreams - and nightmares - of magecraft.

In all of that, he hadn’t found any answers.

What else could he do, except keep trying?

Hope someone else came through?

With no clock, Ravel wasn’t sure how long it took for another person to arrive. Failure after failure made it feel like forever, but his stomach was still quiet from breakfast, so it likely hadn’t been too long.

“Koby!” Ravel yelled. He ran across the room to the other boy. Koby yelped and cringed away. 

Ravel stumbled to a halt, confused. It was only then that he noticed the other boy’s clothes were torn. One of his eyes was swollen shut, surrounded by puffy, darkened skin, and his lip was cracked and bleeding. 

Nothing the castle had done should have caused any of that.

“What happened to you?” he asked.

Koby lowered his arms to peer at Ravel with widened eyes. Something he saw there seemed to make him relax. “A lot of people are really upset.”

The statement seemed like a non sequitur at first. Yeah, of course people were upset. Ravel was upset. Everyone was. What did that have to do with…? 

Ravel blinked. “Wait… people attacked you? But you’re trapped in here too!”

Koby rolled his eyes. “You were ready to punch me at first. Don’t tell me you weren’t.”

“I…” Ravel trailed off, remembering. It had been a little over a day ago, but so much had happened since that it felt like a distant memory. He had been furious at Koby at first, hadn’t he? He hadn’t punched him, but he’d definitely been thinking about it. Ravel swallowed, uncomfortable. “That was when I thought you were responsible.”

Koby shrugged, then winced in pain, rubbing the joint between his shoulder and his neck. “I get why they were mad. I knew what might happen. I didn’t warn anyone.”

Ravel frowned. It was true. He’d been angry at Koby too, but it was hard to maintain that anger while looking at Koby’s bleeding, puffy face. If Koby had warned everyone…

Actually, would that even have helped? Ravel wondered. If Koby’s family had been secretly sending teenagers into a deathtrap for decades, there had probably been others who’d refused to keep the secret. 

But the secret had still been kept.

Maybe Koby’s silence had been for the best?

Ignorant of Ravel’s musings, Koby continued, “Plus, well… it was my uncle who locked us in here. My cousin. My dad tried to protect me from this. Probably my whole family knows.”

The boy’s tone was morose, and Ravel felt a sudden pang of sympathy.  He lifted a hand to his vest, remembering his suspicions from yesterday. Did Aunt Fi know? Did she suspect? Why didn’t she warn me if she did?

He didn’t like to think about the idea. Aunt Fi had been almost a mom to him for the past decade. He loved her. If he learned that she was part of a conspiracy that had sent Terry away, trapped him here, and left others dead…

Koby is even more alone than the rest of us, Ravel realized.

He didn’t know what to say. Flustered, he fell back on practicality. “The, um, the tiles in this room. There’s magic on the edges, and I think you need to move it into the center. I can’t seem to do it and I don’t know why. I’ve been trying for hours.”

Koby squinted at the tiles. “Are you sure that’s what you’re supposed to do?”

“Pretty sure. I said as much to Raza, and she was out of here in under a minute.” Ravel blinked. “Wait. Was Raza one of the people who…?” He gestured at Koby’s injuries.

“The loud girl? No. I haven’t seen her in a long time. I assumed she was way ahead.”

“She was here a little after morning bell,” Ravel said. “I think she got stuck in the last maze for a while. But… the magic… do you know anything? What we’re supposed to do? They didn’t tell us how to control it in class.”

To Ravel’s relief, Koby nodded and gave Ravel a lopsided smile. “Yeah. They didn’t tell me in class either, but my older sister talked with me a lot after she graduated. She made me swear not to try it out or to tell anyone, but she told me some stuff. I… I’m not sure how well it will work. I haven’t tried it so far. I was kind of upset at first, and then after I got attacked, I’ve been pretty desperate to keep ahead of people. I haven’t taken the time to try it out.”

“Tell me the secrets, please,” Ravel begged.

Koby laughed, then winced again. “I wouldn’t call it a secret, not anymore at least. It’s just… you know how perceptual magic relies on belief? Believing things are the same and different?”

Ravel nodded.

Koby let out a deep breath. “Well… I haven’t tried, but my sister said you could do that with magic itself, too.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well… some people can just make magic move. No metaphors: they just think ‘Magic, go here,’ and it does.”

“Raza’s probably like that,” Ravel muttered. “She’s the bossiest person I’ve ever met, even bossier than my cousin Lanat.”

Koby laughed. “She probably is. But… most people can’t do it like that, not very well. But if you can think of the magic like something you’re familiar with. My sister always loved cooking, and she said she thinks of magic like dough, something you can knead and stretch and push into place. I was thinking maybe of trying… basketball? I like to play, and I’m pretty good at making the ball go where it needs to go. She said a lot of people use painting or writing metaphors.”

“You want to think of magic like a basketball?” Ravel asked, incredulous.

Koby shrugged. “Maybe? I’m going to try. I mean, my sister made dough work. She said any approach has its strengths and weaknesses. For example, pragmatic magic is a struggle for her, because there’s so much detail, but she’s really talented at warding magic-free zones and her enchantments stay strong for longer than most people’s. Um… give it a try, okay? I…” 

Koby glanced over his shoulder. There was no door behind him, but his meaning was clear. Somewhere behind him were the people who’d given him a black eye and worse.

“Right,” Ravel said. “Thanks for the tips.”

Koby smiled. “Sure.”

The boy turned and entered a nearby tile, and Ravel selected one next to it.

He took a deep breath, trying not to let his doubts and hopes overwhelm him. He envisioned a needle and imagined dipping it down into the shallow pool, pulling a thread of magic through the needle. Then he took his imaginary tool and punched it down through the tile.

A single stitch of magic formed.

Chapter 16

The bells do more than help us mark day and night. Have you ever noticed the bells sound different from one day to the next? Each tune they play marks a different weekday. There are even special tunes for festival days, songs we hear only once every year!

• Excerpt from Origins (Age 5) history primer

Taking that first step forward was encouraging, but it didn’t solve all his problems. 

Ravel couldn’t physically reach below the tile, so at first he thought he couldn’t retrieve his imaginary tool. Then, he remembered the needle wasn’t even real, which caused his whole stitch to lose cohesion and sink back into the pool. 

“No!” Ravel shouted, lunging forward to try to physically keep his stitch from dissolving.

Koby looked over at him. “Everything okay?”

Ravel flushed. “Yeah. Sorry. Thanks for the advice. I actually made some progress, but then I lost it.”

“Well, if you did it once, you can do it again,” Koby said. “I think I might need to figure out something different entirely. The basketball idea isn’t helping me at all. I’m having trouble visualizing how it would work.”

“I was wondering about that,” Ravel said. “I couldn’t figure it out.”

Koby sighed. “I guess I didn’t think it through. Basketball is just something I like a lot.”

Ravel frowned. He didn’t have any good advice for Koby; the other boy was the one who had given him insight into all this. “Good luck,” he said.

Koby nodded, and both boys turned back toward their tiles.

Ravel tried pulling his thread all the way across the gap, but the thread fell apart halfway to the center. He tried it several more times before reluctantly admitting it was a failure.

I think I know I’m trying to cheat. Putting it into a thread shape has made me feel more confident, but if I’m not treating it like a thread, I stop believing in what I’m doing. I need to do something with it: weave it, sew it, braid it…

Of the ideas available, sewing seemed the simplest. He’d even succeeded at it before, at least for one stitch.

But then I lost my needle. Maybe a curved needle, like the ones we used to patch holes in the mattresses? Or… why am I treating the tile like fabric at all? Maybe what I ought to be doing is imagining fabric as well as a needle.

Ravel experimented. Imaginary fabric to stitch his magic thread through did work, but it was tiring trying to imagine both the fabric and the needle and stay focused, and his efforts kept falling apart.

I can get this eventually, Ravel thought. It was an encouraging thought. But maybe I should take a minute to try my other idea?

To his relief, the “curved needle” idea worked well, easily pulling his magic thread beneath the surface of the tile and back out again. He didn’t try to make his stitches small or do anything fancy: just a simple, straight stitch ate up the inches quickly.

One more stitch and I’ll be in the center! Three more if I have to get to the center of the center. But… shit… 

Ravel looked over his shoulder at Koby. “Thanks for the advice. I think I’ve almost got it figured out. How are you doing? Any better?”

Koby shook his head. “No. Not at all.”

If I leave, I’ll be alone.

So will he.

And if the people who attacked him catch up… Wait, do I want to be here for that?

Maybe I could talk them out of it. 

Maybe Koby will figure things out before they get here.

Ravel eyed his magical sewing consideringly, then pulled the thread tight and knotted it, less than an inch away from his target. “Right,” he said. “That’ll stay. Let me know when you’re getting close, and I’ll finish mine up. Maybe we can figure out the next room together.”

Koby jerked in surprise. “You’ll wait for me!?”

Ravel shrugged. “You helped me get through this room. It seems fair. Plus, um, I don’t know what the next room will be. I’m, um, not saying I’ll stay forever. Like, if the castle gets angry at me for waiting, or, um…”

He trailed off. He didn’t know what he’d do if people showed up ready to attack Koby again. Just letting them do it felt scummy, but he didn’t realistically know what he could do to stop them. He was tall, sure, but he hadn’t gotten into many fights growing up, nor had he done particularly well the few times he’d been provoked or cornered. And there was no Aunt Fi or Lanat here to chastise him for getting into trouble and help him out. No Doctor May, either. If Ravel got hurt badly enough to need stitches, he’d have to sew the cut closed himself. 

He shuddered, then steeled himself. He could at least be brave enough to speak clearly, couldn’t he? “I’m not excited about the idea of fighting anyone. I don’t think it’s right that people attacked you. I’d try to stop someone who did, but… if a lot of people show up I’m not going to promise to stay.”

To his surprise, Koby smiled at him in apparent delight. “Wow. Thanks! Are you sure?”

Ravel blinked. Had he misspoken? “I… look, I’m sorry, I just… I don’t want you to think I’ll definitely fight people for you. I… I’ll think about it, but I’m not very good at fighting. The last time I got into a fistfight, the worst injury the other guy got was on his knuckles.”

Koby shook his head. “No, no! That’s not what I meant. I meant… are you sure you want to wait with me? Are you sure you want to try to stop anyone? You don’t have to, you know. I… I’m not completely innocent here, and if people think you’re my friend… I mean, honestly, it would mean a lot to me if you just waited and kept me company. You could leave as soon as anyone else showed up.”

“I’ll stay,” Ravel said. 

And, all of a sudden, he knew he would. Even if twenty people appeared in the next second, ready to pound Koby to a pulp, Ravel would stay. 

It probably wouldn’t help anything, but he’d stay anyway.

Koby beamed at him and turned back to his tile.

Why? Ravel wondered. Why am I suddenly willing to get my face kicked in?

Is it just because he’s so friendly? 

Nah. I mean, it doesn’t hurt anything, but… I don’t think he’s that great. He’s alright, I guess. He was an idiot for not listening to his dad, and I don’t really see why he didn’t warn the rest of us, but people don’t deserve to be beat up just for being morons.

Koby kept stealing glances at Ravel as he worked, clearly in a better mood despite his repeated failures to manipulate the magic. 

It’s so dumb, Ravel thought. Why is he so happy? I haven’t been that nice. I literally told him that a lot of the reason I’m staying is so that he can help me through the next room if I need advice. That’s not friendship, it’s just… acquaintanceship. I’m not even really with him, I’m just… not against him.

The moment he had the thought, everything fell into place for Ravel: Koby’s good mood and his own unwillingness to leave. Koby had been alone. Completely alone, enough that “I’ll hang out with you, but I’ll probably abandon you if you really need me” was a positive. He probably had friends back at his nursery, but they weren’t with him now and he’d probably never see them again. Plus, he’d recently found out that his family was apparently part of some vast conspiracy to deliver kids for the castle to trap and kill. They’d tried to spare him, and he hadn’t gone along with it, for whatever reason. 

He probably didn’t agree with what they were doing. 

Ravel had been thinking a lot about his family: worrying for them, hoping to find Terry, missing them. His thoughts of them hadn’t been happy, exactly, but they’d brought him some comfort, something to focus on outside his own problems.

But Koby’s family had done this to him. To everyone. 

Ravel doubted that Koby could think about anything related to them without feeling more upset. Koby might have been pretty dumb, and Ravel was still unhappy that Koby hadn’t warned him, but he didn’t seem malicious. He wasn’t a slimeball.

Koby was trapped here like the rest of them. That was punishment enough.

Ravel sighed and began picking through his stored foods, munching on a few of the little black things. When he’d tried one earlier he’d found it kind of bland, but now, without the sweet taste of the red things to distract him, he liked them more. They were a little oily, but not unpleasantly so, and they had a faint sweetness to them he hadn’t noticed at first. 

He ate slowly, savoring each bite. 

Maybe I should keep trying to mess with the magic while I wait, Ravel thought. I don’t know what the castle will want of us next, but it’s almost guaranteed to involve moving magic around. 

His stitched line of magic was starting to come loose, and Ravel realized he’d only knotted his “thread” at one end. He redid it, far faster this time, and started experimenting with the magic pool, trying to figure out what else he could do with it. Could he braid or weave it? Yes, maybe, but controlling multiple strings of magic at a time was difficult. Maybe if he made some kind of magic loom? But how? 

A braid seemed like a more approachable task, so Ravel focused on that. Three strands of magic was a lot, and his work kept dissolving before he could get too far, but he pressed on. 

This was something he could practice. 

That meant he could improve.

“I think I’ve almost got it!” Koby said. 

“Almost to the middle?” Ravel asked.

Koby shook his head. “No. My magic… uh… the way I’m thinking about it… It’s not, um, slow like that? If I do it, it’ll be all in one go. But I think I can.”

Ravel waved a hand. “Go ahead. If it works, I’ll be right behind you.”

Koby grinned. “Hope we end up in the same place.”

He looked down at his tile. There was a moment’s pause, and then the same scene Ravel had seen with Raza replayed itself with Koby.

Nice, Ravel thought. He mentally picked up the curved needle one more time and made a few quick stitches. He hoped it only took a little magic in the center, but even if it didn’t, he felt confident now. He could satin stitch magic in a blanket across the entire center area if necessary. 

It wasn’t.

The walls came up, the floor tilted away, and Ravel found himself sliding downward toward the next challenge.