Excerpt: Finding Antarctica

The head of school was shocked to see them. At first, he was entirely speechless, scratching his balding head anxiously and looking the trio over. At length he stuttered, “Come in, come in, have a seat if you wish, Mr. Omen, sir.”

“It’s Nemo, please,” the magician mumbled, dragging Cassandra through the door and forcing her into a chair. “Make sure she doesn’t fall off her seat,” he said to Zack, removing his overcoat. “We’ll need to perform a prophecy translation.”

Zack’s initial suspicion of the Archmage’s vibrant wardrobe had been dead on. Underneath the stuffy grey overcoat was a suit of a beautiful shade of royal blue, with a shirt with a faint orangish flush and a vermillion tie. Even his hair seemed to change color when he took off his coat; though before it had looked coal black, Zack could now detect a grackle’s glossy shades of purple and green that shone depending on how the light hit it.

Opening the jacket of his suit, his two mynahs shot out and fluttered around the room, chattering. “Quiet, quiet,” he muttered firmly to them, and they obeyed, perching upon his shoulders and bobbing silently. The magician pulled a strange object from his pocket and placed it on the floor. The wooden box, which looked almost like a small archaic radio, shed layers of dust and a few cobwebs and he fumbled with its wires and knobs. He produced two thicker wires with metal clamps on the ends, attaching one to Cassandra’s wrist and the other around her throat. When he was done, he knelt down to the girl’s height and stared very fiercely into her eyes, not saying a word. Cassandra eased a bit, her convulsions relaxing and her breathing slowing to a comfortable rhythm. Nemo placed his hands over the box’s two largest knobs.

“Speak.”

Cassandra opened her mouth, and at first no sound came out. Nemo adjusted the knobs ever so slightly and a sound from the box began to fade into hearing. Though her lips and tongue weren’t moving, Zack could distinctly hear words coming from the box, though they weren’t in a language he understood. Nemo turned one knob to the right, and Cassandra’s words blended into each other until they became a liquid, birdlike warble. The magician shook his head, and adjusted the knobs again.

Human words bubbled from the box, this time in Spanish. With a final adjustment, decipherable English poured out from the speakers. It was just one word, over and over and over:

“Antarctica. Antarctica. Antarctica. Antarctica.”

Nemo shook his head softly. “A broken record prophecy,” he sighed. “I’ve only had two of those before in my career.

“Is this… good?” the head asked, fidgeting.

“It’s important, that’s what it is. The fewer words a prophecy contains, the greater its severity.”

“Antarctica. Antarctica. Antarctica. Antarctica,” Cassandra droned.

The other three sat in silence, Nemo obviously thinking very hard.

“Is there any way to make her stop?” the head asked at length.

“Yes, but it’s better to let these things work themselves out without artificial help. We’ll just have to let her keep talking until whichever muse is sending the prophecy decides enough is enough.”

“How long do you think that will take?”

“It depends on the muse, really. Sometimes it’s a few minutes, other times it’s days.”

“Days…?” The head looked very weak all of a sudden.

“Antarctica. Antarctica. Antarctica. Antarctica,” Cassandra continued.

Nemo continued to watch silently, studying her.

“Antarctica. Antarctica. Antarctica. Antarctica.”

The Archmage was enraptured, his eyes glossed over.

“Antarctica. Antarctica. Antarctica. Antarctica.”

A spark appeared in the magician’s eyes, and his facial expression shifted subtly.

“Antarctica. Antarctica. Antarctica. Antarctica.”

He sighed deeply and rubbed his face.

Cassandra abruptly stopped. Her eyelids drooped, her body sagged, and quite suddenly she collapsed. Nemo barely caught her before she hit the floor. The head breathed a sigh of relief. Zack still felt as uncomfortable as ever.

“Do you know what it means?” the head asked anxiously.

“I think so, but…” his eyes flashed dangerously, “it’s quite frankly none of your business.”

The head shrank back and nodded dejectedly.

“What I can tell you, however,” Nemo rumbled, “is that this girl and this boy will be two of my apprentices this year.”