The First Confessor: The Legend of Magda Searus

Chapter 63

Magda again ran her fingers over the letters as Merritt stepped up beside her at the workbench. His gaze scanned the tools off to the side.

“This is where Baraccus made things, then? This room, this workbench?”

Magda nodded as she gestured to the side. “I used to sit on this crate, here, and watch him work.”

Magda glanced to the ornately engraved silver box to the side of the table that held treasured memories. Baraccus seemed so distant, now. In some ways it was all like only yesterday, but in other ways it all seemed so long ago in her life. She missed him, but even that pain was gradually fading as she worried about all the immediate problems.

“Did he make that as well?” Merritt asked, gesturing to the silver box.

Magda nodded as she pulled it closer to show him. She ran her fingers over the top, much as she had done with the letters on the sword, and then opened the lid.

“It just holds some small memories of things he gave me.”

Magda lifted out the white flower to show him.

Merritt looked somewhat surprised. “That’s pretty rare. I’ve only seen one of those once before.”

Magda twirled the flower between a finger and thumb. “You know what this is, then? Baraccus said it was rare, but never mentioned the name.”

“It’s called a confession flower.”

Magda frowned. “Really? A confession flower? Why would it be called that?”

“Because a confession is a revelation of the truth. Truth is pure. White is pure. Thus the name.”

“That’s a lovely name, for a lovely flower,” she said as she replaced the flower and closed the lid.

“Maybe you could come watch me make something, someday.”

Magda smiled. “I’d like that.” She hopped up onto her seat on the crate and pointed at the well-used collection of exquisite metalsmithing tools, semiprecious stones in divided wooden trays, assorted supplies, and the small books filled with notes that had belonged to her husband.

“I was making an excuse at the time,” she said, “but I think Baraccus would like you to have his tools.”

Merritt’s eyes lit up. “You really think so? Me, have the tools that belong to a First Wizard?”

“I guess that they’re my tools now. I know that I would like you to have them. I really do think that Baraccus would approve. He would want them to go to a good use, to a good person.”

Merritt reached out and reverently touched some of the small tools in the collection. They really did seem to mean a great deal to Merritt. He respected their value.

“These are some of the finest tools I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m glad you like them and that you can put them to good use,” Magda said with a smile.

He pointed, then, at the little books beside the tools.

“What are those?”

Magda lifted her head to see where he was pointing. “Oh, those. Notes he took, I guess.”

Merritt gestured to the books. “May I?”

Magda’s smile widened at seeing how excited he was by such simple things as tools and notes. She leaned forward enough to slide the stack of little books closer to him. “Of course. Maybe they can be helpful to you.”

Merritt picked up the one on top and opened it, slowly turning the pages, taking a look at what was written there. She watched his hazel eyes move as he scanned the pages.

As he read, his smile vanished. His eyes grew wide.

And then the blood drained from his face.

“Dear spirits . . .” he whispered.

Magda frowned. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

He began rapidly turning the pages. He studied each briefly, then turned to the next page.

“Celestial calculations,” he whispered to himself.

“That makes sense,” Magda said. She didn’t understand why he was so excited. Baraccus was forever writing down celestial calculations and measurements. He would take distances and angles from stars to stars, or from certain stars to a distant spot on the horizon, or sometimes to the moon. “I often heard Baraccus speaking to other wizards about celestial calculations, measurements, and equations. I thought all wizards knew about those kinds of things.”

“No, you don’t understand.” He tapped the book as he held it before her face, as if maybe she, too, should be able to decipher the tangle of lines and numbers and formulas. “These are celestial calculations.”

“You said that before. I’m sorry, Merritt, but I can’t make sense of them.”

“Magda, these are the rift calculations for creating a seventh-level breach.” His voice broke. “Dear spirits, these celestial calculations are the measurements and formulas from before the star shift. These are the formulas that I knew had to exist, but had never been able to find. These are the formulas that Baraccus said he couldn’t give me because they had been taken away and hidden in the Temple of the Winds.”

Magda felt goose bumps tingle up her arms as she hopped down off her crate. “Are you sure? Are you sure that these are those formulas?”

“Yes. Yes, the very ones.” He tapped the book excitedly again. “This is them. These are the occulted calculations and templates for creating a seventh-level breach. It’s all right here.”

As Merritt dropped heavily into the chair at the bench, Magda looked down at the small open book he was holding. The lines and writing looked like nothing but a bunch of angles and numbers to her, the same kinds of measurements Baraccus took all the time from his own observations. It was like a foreign language to her, but it was a language that Merritt, like Baraccus, understood well.

It came to her, then.

Merritt was still staring at the open book.

“I understand, now,” she said in little more than a whisper.

With a finger, Magda lifted his chin until his gaze met hers. “I understand.”

“What do you mean? Understand what?”

“Baraccus knew that you needed these. He must have brought them back with him from the Temple of the Winds.” She felt the goose bumps on her arms crawl the rest of the way up to the nape of her neck. “Remember what I told you before? That when he went there he found out that the boxes of Orden were gone and he could tell no one but me? He knew they’d been taken. Do you see? He must have brought these back so that the key could be completed.”

Merritt could only stare at her.

Magda swallowed past the lump in her throat. “He brought them back for you, Merritt. He knew what you were making, and he knew that you needed these. He wanted you to be able to complete the key, hoping you could use it to protect the boxes of Orden. He said that my destiny was to find truth. That led me to you, so that I could bring you to what Baraccus wanted you to have to complete the key.”

He put a hand to his forehead. “You’re making my head spin, Magda. Do you grasp the enormity of what you’re saying? It’s all so hard to believe.”

“The truth is there in your hand, in that book.”

“It certainly is. These formulas are staggeringly valuable. Some believe that their existence was only gossip and rumor. Some believe they never existed and were only a myth. But some of us knew from our work that they had to exist. And here they are, sitting on the First Wizard’s workbench.”

“They’ve been here ever since he returned from the underworld with them. He hid them in plain sight.”

Merritt’s eyes filled with tears as he stared up at her. His voice broke with emotion. “Do you know how many good men have died trying to re-create these formulas? Died making wild guesses in the dark?”

“And now you have what you need to finish the Sword of Truth?”

Merritt reached out and touched the blade. He lifted the little book. “With these I do. I believe that I now have everything I need to complete it.”

“You should be able to get some of the other men to help you finish the sword. The key will be complete.”

He went silent for a moment as he considered her words.

“I’ve already done all the preliminary work, and I did that by myself. No one helped me. I don’t really need any of those men to complete it.”

“Then why are the people trying to make the key always working in teams?”

“The council ordered the key made, but they didn’t know how to make it. They assumed it would take teams of wizards. A lot of things do.”

“Didn’t you tell them?”

“Every chance I got.” His face twisted with frustration. “They wouldn’t listen to anything I was telling them about how I thought the key needed to be made. Since it was such a complicated task, they guessed that a team would be needed just like they guessed about everything else. They wouldn’t listen. They thought that with more men they would be able to cover more ground, overcome the difficulties, and figure it out. But all that did was get more men killed.”

“But shouldn’t you have someone you trust help you?”

He regarded her with a meaningful look. “Yes, but with all that’s happening at the Keep, I don’t dare trust anyone. After all, you didn’t trust even the council with the news that the power of Orden is back in this world.”

“I guess you’re right about that.”

“Worse, though, the more people who know that the key has been completed, the more we risk word leaking out to whoever has the boxes of Orden. Baraccus didn’t trust telling anyone but you. If I do it by myself, no one will know that a key exists. Then I can work to try to find the boxes and protect them.”

Magda looked from the sword back to his eyes. “Are you sure that you should finish the Sword of Truth? I mean, if the key doesn’t exist . . .”

“Whoever has the boxes very well might try to access the power without the key. That intoxicating temptation has always been the danger. By doing so, and if they do certain things wrong, they could unintentionally destroy the world of life. If that happened, the key would be the only way to control the power and walk us back from the brink.”

“Then I guess it’s better to complete the sword and then we can try to protect the boxes.”

“We?”

“We’re the only two people who know all of this. Baraccus trusted me with the information about the missing boxes for a reason. The people who have the boxes don’t know about the formulas that Baraccus brought you. We’re the only two people who know the whole story. We need to work together.”

Merritt mulled over her words. “You’re right about that much of it, but I don’t know if I like that idea. It’s too dangerous for you to be involved.”

Magda cocked her head. “Too dangerous? Merritt, I’m already at the center of this whole thing. What unexpected threat might come after me next? The only true safety is to figure out what’s going on and put a stop to it.”

He wiped a hand back across his face as he let out a weary sigh. “I don’t like it, Magda, but I have to admit that you very well might be right. No matter which way you turn, you seem to always be at the center of the storm, whether it’s dream walkers, or dead men trying to kill you, Baraccus’s prophecies in his note to you, or the boxes of Orden.”

Magda was glad he understood. “That’s the way I’ve always looked at it. I have to find out what’s going on at the Keep before it’s too late. It’s something that maybe only I can do.”

Merritt closed his fingers around the hilt of the sword and lifted it off the table. Shadow’s green eyes followed the blade. Merritt’s own eyes were filled with iron determination.

“I need to do it right now, before anything happens.”

“What about going to the dungeons to talk to the sorceress who defected? We have to do that, too. We need to get to her before they execute her.”

He placed the sword’s point in the scabbard and slid the blade home. “If she is still alive they aren’t going to behead her at night. They usually do beheadings in the afternoon, so we have at least until tomorrow. That gives me tonight to complete the key.”

“That’s true, I suppose, but that’s for public executions. This may be something different.” Magda didn’t want to lose the opportunity to find out if the woman could tell them anything important about the enemy’s plans. “Are you sure, Merritt? What that woman knows could be important. We may never get another chance to learn about secrets from the Old World.”

“I understand, but this is more important.” With a thumb, he tapped the hilt of the sword. “We need to do this first, then we can go to the dungeons and see if we can find her. For all we know, she may not even still be alive. This is more important.”

“All right, then, let’s head down to the lower reaches of the Keep and finish the sword.”

With his palm resting on the pommel, Merritt drummed his fingers on the cross guard as he considered. “I think it best not to do it in the Keep. I don’t know for sure how big a reaction the release of that much power will create, but I expect that it will be pretty violent. It’s sure to attract the attention of anyone nearby. Besides, I need water. Lots of water.”

“Water? Why?”

“To cool the reaction.”

Magda brightened. “I know a place like that out in the woods—the pond I used to go to when I was younger.”

“The one you went to with Quinn?”

Magda nodded. “That’s the place. It’s not too far and it’s not only secluded, it’s deserted. We should go now. At night we wouldn’t chance anyone being out for a stroll in the woods.”

Merritt paced for a moment as he considered. “Even though I have what I need, it’s still profoundly dangerous. Such a thing, with the real elements, has never actually been attempted before that I know of. I think it would be better if you waited here.”

Magda waved the note. “Baraccus said that my destiny is to find truth. I named it the Sword of Truth. It’s not complete yet and it needs to be. I think my destiny is to be there with you when you complete it. Besides,” she added, “you said you needed help. Who else can you trust?”

He watched her eyes for a moment. He finally succumbed to a smile.

“I’d like that, Magda. I’d like that very much. Besides, like I said, I do need another person to help me.”

“But I’m not gifted,” she reminded him. “What are we going to do about that?”

“I don’t need you to be gifted.”

“Then what do you need me for?”

“I’ll need your blood.”