Tris & Izzie (14 page)

A hand reached for him and then fell back. “Mark,” Branna said in a raspy voice.

“Don't let her get up,” Mom warned. “She's been through a lot. She needs absolute rest to recover. Once a heart has been dead, it can die again easily in the next few days. And I don't want to have to revive her again.”

“You're out of the potion,” I pointed out, holding up the bottle.

“There is that, too, and mandrake root is expensive. Although considering the earthquake and the number of hours I'm probably going to be working this week, we should be fine financially.”

“What—what happened?” Branna asked weakly, looking around. “I thought we were at the school. The giant? Don't tell me it was all a dream.”

“No, the giant was real,” I said. “He must have hit you with a piece of wood and it speared you into the ground.”

She put a hand to her stomach and felt along the scar I'd left in her skin. “I can't believe I'm still alive.” She glanced at me.

I shrugged.

Mark bent down and kissed the wound. “This is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, Branna,” he said. Then he looked up at her. “You are the strongest, most capable, most amazing woman, and I—” He stopped, apparently speechless.

“Oh,” said Branna, like she hadn't expected that. “You're not just saying that because you thought I was dead, are you?”

“No, I'm not just saying because you were dead! I'll say it every minute of every day for the rest of your life if you want. So long as you promise to live a very long life.”

“I'll try,” said Branna, and she closed her eyes.

“What happened? Is she dead again?” Mark asked frantically. He tried to lift Branna into his arms, but Mom swatted him away, and Mark didn't fight her, although he probably could have thrown her across a football field if he'd wanted to.

Mom bent down and listened to Branna. “She's breathing,” she said. “She's just asleep. She's fine. Or she will be, when I'm finished with her.”

I sagged forward and Tristan caught me. I was exhausted in a way I didn't think I could be and still be alive. I had lived through an earthquake, used my magic for the first time, killed a giant with fireballs, saved Branna's life, and endured a NASCAR race home to save her again.

I never wanted to do anything heroic ever again. I just wanted to take a bath and put on some clean clothes.

Instead, I called Branna's parents to tell them she was okay and was going to stay at our house overnight. Her mom said that was fine, and she should call them when she was ready to go home.

M
om bandaged my cuts from the glass and told me she didn't think they would need a healing potion. As for Mark, he tried to resist taking anything Mom gave him, but she reminded him that Branna would have a much harder recovery if she woke up to find her boyfriend dying of sepsis. It turned out he had a ruptured spleen, which I helped fire-seal. Then Mom gave him a magic salve for his burns.

Tristan didn't need anything at all. He had come through the attack unscathed except for a few bruises from his fight with Mark, and Mom didn't argue when he said they didn't hurt.

After all that, I went upstairs and changed out of my disgusting, giant-stink-infested clothes. I bathed without putting my hands or shoulder in the water. Then I put on a nice pair of khakis and a shirt that clung to me in all the right places. Not that I thought Tristan needed to be coaxed to stare at me, but it made me feel more confident. Then I went downstairs.

Branna seemed to be recovering enough to open her eyes and murmur a few words, which was good, and Mark was there beside her. He didn't look at me once, which was fine with me. I hadn't worn the shirt for him.

Mom stood up and turned to Tristan. “You have your sword?” she asked.

He nodded. “I will return to the school,” he said.

She seemed to know what he was talking about, but I didn't. “What for?” I asked.

“The giant's magic must be destroyed,” said Tristan.

“But I already—” I said.

“You destroyed its body, to protect the non-magical world from discovering the truth,” said Mom. “But now the magic of the giant needs to be dissipated.”

“Oh,” I said, not really understanding.

“And also,” Mom added, “I have to get back to the school in the ambulance. There may be others who need me.” She checked on Branna once more and told Mark to call her if there was a problem. Then she grabbed her bag of supplies and got back into the ambulance with me and Tristan. She drove this time, and even with the siren on, it felt sedate compared to Tristan's driving.

We got out of the ambulance and saw a long line of people waiting to be treated. Tristan and I had to sneak around a police barrier and keep close to the walls of the school to stay out of sight. We didn't want to be told we had to go back for our own safety. Luckily, the police weren't watching carefully for people coming into the disaster area. They were paying more attention to people who wanted to get out.

When we got to the pile of ashes that had been the giant's body, no one was paying attention to it, which was good.

Tristan got out his sword.

“It is dead, isn't it?” I asked.

“Dead, but it could be brought back to life with the magic left inside its body.” Tristan looked at me gravely. “I have seen it done before. Some years ago, there was a man in Curvenal who was killed, who had magic in his body. He was a sorcerer and he climbed out of his grave, though his wounds were so great that his body would not hold in one piece. Even so, he walked away from his wife, his daughters, and went to serve the serpent. My father was one of the men who went to stop him, and I followed after him.”

It was obvious from Tristan's haunted expression that it was not a good memory. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“With you?” he said, shaking his head. “I should not tell you of such terrible things.”

“Tristan, I'm not a child, and I'm not a porcelain doll. I'm not going to break if you tell me the hard stuff. I really want to know about your life. All of it.” After all, his life was going to be my life soon. “So tell me, what happened when your father went after the sorcerer?” He already knew what had happened when mine had, though I didn't know whether Tristan's father's attempt had taken place before or after Mom and I left Curvenal.

“I was eight years old that day,” said Tristan.

So this was after we'd left. After Dad was dead and the serpent was in charge of Curvenal because there wasn't a sorcerer there to stop him.

“My father lost an arm to the serpent.” Tristan pointed to his right side, at the elbow. “He could never wield a sword again. He could only teach me what he knew. He watched me practice every day for hours, told me everything I did wrong.”

“And you liked that?” It sounded like it, but I knew I wouldn't have liked it if my dad had done the same thing.

“He was protecting me in the only way he knew how,” said Tristan. He reached over his shoulder and whispered some-thing, then pulled out the sword, seemingly from nowhere.

It was cool to watch. “Doesn't it get in the way when you're doing other things?” I hadn't noticed him once moving awkwardly because of the sword, even when he was fighting Mark.

“It is not here until I bring it out,” said Tristan.

“I don't understand.”

“It goes to another place until I call it by its true name.”

Another dimension? I remembered my physics teacher talking about the possibilities of multiple universes, a multi-verse, and what the mathematical and physical laws in those places would be. It had been hard to believe then, but maybe at a certain point, physics and magic weren't so different.

“What's its name, then? Excalibur or something?” I asked.

“No. That is a different sword. And one that has been misused. This one is still pure.”

I waited for him to tell me the name.

“It is Excoriator,” he said, moving his lips like he had before but this time making enough sound that I could distinguish the syllables.

It was an intimidating name. “So if that sword cuts off the giant's head, then the serpent can't bring him back to life?”

“Yes, the magic in the sword's blade sends the giant's soul to hell, and there are angels with similar swords who guard the gates of hell to keep him from returning. The name of the sword also dissipates the magic here on earth.”

“Let's do it, then,” I said. I definitely wanted to make sure the giant did not return.

Tristan strode forward, not running this time, but with an easy balance despite the weight of the sword.

The giant rubble took up most of one end of the parking lot.

Tristan said the sword's name, then raised it. I heard a sound like a crack of thunder, and the blade came down like lightning. A stench like old fish and garbage dumps spewed out of the giant's head, and I wondered if maybe I shouldn't have bothered changing my clothes. It seemed likely that I was going to have to throw this outfit away, along with the one I'd worn earlier. It was a shame, too, because I really liked the way the khakis fit my butt. I hadn't even had the chance to ask Tristan what he thought.

Clearly, in the future, I was going to have to figure out which times were good for dressing up and which weren't. Otherwise Mom would have to get a second job to support my habit of being attacked by magical creatures.

“I hope there are better times for us ahead,” said Tristan, breathing hard. He leaned on the sword before putting it away, just as I heard the sound of a helicopter's blades.

I looked up and saw a channel number painted on the out-side and a cameraman hanging out the side.

That was bad.

Had Tristan put the sword away in time? If not, would people think it was just a prop sword? Would anyone realize it was magic?

Mom would have to take care of that, though. Tristan and I had other things to do.

I grabbed Tristan's hand, and we ran around the other side of the school, then over the football field into a neighbor's yard. “We're going to have to walk home from here,” I said.

Mom was busy, and I didn't think there was a car worth driving left in the parking lot. Not that any of them were mine in the first place.

“Walking with you will be a pleasure,” said Tristan.

I leaned on his arm and we went the long way around. But we had to go up a hill, so when we looked back, we could see the fire engines, ambulances, and police cars.

In the
evening newspaper, the lead story was
LOCALIZED QUAKE STUNS TINTAGEL HIGH
.

Yeah, very localized.

The fire that had devastated the parking lot afterward was attributed to a gas-line break, and it was called “miraculous” that every student and teacher who had been in the building had been accounted for. There were a few minor injuries, but no one had been hospitalized.

I saw the smiling face of my physics teacher and a list of the students he had saved. Good thing he knew the laws of our universe so well.

Nothing about magic, not even a hint. So that meant the teachers and students at Tintagel were safe—as long as they stayed far away from me.

I didn't see any photos of Tristan with his sword.

When Tristan and I walked through the front door, news-paper in hand, Branna was awake again, drinking some juice. Mom had told Mark not to let her sit up or eat anything solid, despite her complaining loudly about being hungry. Mark just kept kissing her hands and gently touching her face. Then she would look back at him with shining, sappy eyes and quit talking.

“I love happy endings,” I said, and I meant it 100 percent. I really was happy for her, and for Mark, too. I had Tristan beside me, and I felt like I had conquered the world and was ready for a rest now.

Unfortunately, that's not what happened.

A couple
of hours later, Mom came home. She said she had taken care of the helicopter camera crew, using an amnesia potion in aerosol form. Even though she looked exhausted, she insisted on making us something to eat. “You've got to keep up your strength,” she said. “You've all been through a lot today.”

“I'm not really hungry,” I said.

“Hmm. How about you, Tris?” asked Mom.

“I suppose I could eat a little,” said Tristan.

So I went into the kitchen with him, and Mom made us sandwiches. It wasn't until then that I realized I was starving. I guess killing giants takes more out of you than you might think.

I finished one sandwich and another and felt like a pig when I almost finished a third. Mark ate four. But Tristan was on number five when he asked if he could have the rest of mine. I handed it over and watched as he finished off an entire gallon of milk. Mark had gone into the other room to look after Branna by then.

“Well, I was planning to go shopping tomorrow, anyway,” said Mom. “I need more potion ingredients. I'll just have to stop at the grocery store, too.”

“You eat that much often?” I asked Tristan.

He shrugged. “Magical work takes more energy than non-magical work. I know a man in Curvenal who ate an entire bull after he used magic to build an addition to his house. He and his wife were expecting twins.”

I thought suddenly of Tristan as a dad. He would be a good dad. Just like my dad had been. In fact, I wished Dad were here to see him now. He would have been proud.

“So, where are you planning to sleep tonight, Tristan? You should stay over here, unless you have someplace else to go,” Mom said.

Tristan shook his head and muttered something about “propriety.”

“On the couch,” said Mom. “Far away from Izzie. She can lock her door if that would make you feel better.”

Tristan went beet red. “Of course, I would never—” he said. But he couldn't bring himself to say any more.

And why was he thinking that he was the only one involved in those kinds of choices, anyway? I had to have a talk with him about that.

“Well, where else are you going to go?”

“I can go somewhere else,” said Tristan. “I'll walk.”

Now Tristan had a chance to see my mom in her full dragon persona. No magic involved.

“Tristan, you will not walk another step if I have any-thing to say about it. And I do.”

I cleared my throat. “Um, Mom.”

“You have no idea, either of you, of the dangers you face. Who's to say that another giant won't come after you? Or something worse? Now that they know where you are, it won't be hard to follow your scent, you know, either of you. Tris, you need Izzie's magic. Izzie, you need Tris's knowledge about magic, and that sword of his doesn't hurt, either.”

Now I knew why Mom had been feeding us. She was get-ting ready to send us out to war, and she wanted to make sure we were leaving on full stomachs.

“Fine,” I said. “We get it. Don't we, Tristan?”

He nodded, but he didn't look happy. “I will stay on the front porch,” Tristan finally offered.

“On the porch? It's almost winter. It's going to be close to freezing tonight,” said Mom.

“I have slept outside through many winter nights,” said Tristan with a look of complete honesty. “I will need a few furs.”

“We use blankets here,” I said. But I didn't think I was going to have any luck convincing him to stay inside.

Even Mark tried to talk Tristan into staying here. Then he called his parents and asked for permission to stay and keep an eye on Branna.

Afterward, I could tell he told them something else, though, because he was smiling softly at Branna.

“What is it?” I asked.

Mark shrugged. “I told my mom that you and I broke up and that I was with Branna now. And my mom said she always wondered about me and Branna, if I would ever notice her. I guess she suspected all along something like this would happen.”

“I thought she liked me,” I said, pouting a little. I liked Mark's mom. She did judo and she also knew how to make a mean cheesecake.

“Oh, she did. I mean, she does,” said Mark. “But she said she thought I wasn't really seeing you, just the girl you wanted me to see. And she thought Branna was hiding behind you. I guess she was right.”

I sighed. “Mothers sometimes are,” I said, looking at mine.

“Sometimes?” said my mom.

Branna called her parents again and this time told them more of the whole story, that she had been injured during the earthquake, but my mom was taking care her at home.