“Right? That was my reaction, too.” Shifting closer, Iwrapped my arms around him, drawing him firmly against me. His ribs were so prominent—why had I never taken his malnutrition seriously before? “Hey, come here. It’s alright.”
I held the sorcerer until his quaking breaths settled, then let him pull away. Merulo averted his face, rubbing his eye and sniffing in what looked to be an attempt to restore his dignity.
My rear had gone sore from sitting, so I shuffled discreetly. “Not to get doomy, but I think the conditions have been met. We need to move.”
“The conditions for my prophesized defeat?” Merulo stared glassy-eyed into the fog. “It’s already happened. I’m defeated.”
“That’s an odd thing to say while we’re both alive.” Standing unsteadily, I held out my hand. “Come on, you won’t kill God with that attitude.”
“My attitude is irrelevant,” the sorcerer said. I kept my hand out. With a sigh he took it, rising to join me in the swirling white. “I’m drained.”
“Drained?” I laughed, a touch frantically. “You? But I thought—”
“Cameron. I reversed time for the entire world. There is nothing left of my magic.” He exhaled, displacing a billow of fog. “I can’t defend the castle. They’ll burn my books. We don’t have anywhere to go.”
I couldn’t summon an argument against any of that. Still, I led him onward. One step in front of the other. Merulo trembled, either from emotion or fatigue, and periodically my ankle threatened to give, but leaning on each other, we ascended the escarpment.
Drained. The mad sorcerer was drained. It didn’t seem real, no matter how many times I repeated it.
Shapes materialized from the fog at intervals, constructs lying lifeless. Without their flaming eyes, they looked like uprooted trees, left to rot.
Walking became easier as we found a steady rhythm. Despite the tied cloth (which, upon closer inspection, looked to be torn from the sorcerer’s robe), seepage ran down my leg, filling my shoe with blood so that each step squelched unpleasantly.
I only tried once to make conversation. “I have mentioned Glenda on previous occasions—”
“Awful little creature,” the sorcerer spat.
“Oh yeah, definitely. Anyway, I might have asked her to, uh, pass something along? And I was wondering if . . .” I had the sudden urge to whistle, to feign nonchalance. “If she accomplished that?”
“No,” said the sorcerer, sharp and immediate.
“Huh.” I felt an odd sinking in my chest. “I guess she didn’t feel inclined to do me any favours. But now I suppose you’re curious as to what—”
“Not even remotely. Cameron, our immediate survival is my priority at present, so if you’re capable, let’s save our breath.”
Wanting to push the matter, I glanced at Merulo, and saw something I shouldn’t have: sunlight, cutting through the fog and casting his face bone-white.
“This mist is thinning,” I said in horror, and he nodded.
That was the last we spoke for some time, our energy funneled into forward motion, our breaths coming heavier as we mounted the slope.
We’d made good progress when the sorcerer sat forcefully,nearly causing me to fall. His posture and robe brought to mind a large, diseased crow.
“I’ve been thinking.” He sighed.
“Good. That makes one of us.” I sank beside him, careful of my bandaged ankle. Throughout our walk, the sorcerer’s stone eye had not flashed once. I wondered if it would ever light again.
“We need help. I need help.” His face contorted, the admission seemingly as painful as bad gas. “I must make contact with . . . someone.”
With the fog dissipating around us, I felt rather exposed on the rocky face of the escarpment. “Could we do it in the castle?”
He shook his head. “It’s too far, and there’s barely enough blood left in your body to fill a glass.”
Hyperbole, I wanted to protest, but the temptation to curl like a mouse and fall blissfully asleep remained. I could imagine it: the fading of my senses, a gentle tumble into the void. Back into nothing.
Nothing.
“Merulo, I know you’re a solo artist”—I reached up to grip his shoulder, making a conscious effort not to dig my nails in—“but how’s about you give that person a yell?”
