Magi-Nation Lore

"No Good Deed"
A Cold Welcome, Part 2
By Paul Wyatt, aka Vermillion De

Keva gazed into the vortex with concern, and there on the other side was its architect. She could see Morag through gaps in the debris and the rising energies of the vortex. He looked pleased with his work, whether that was the Door or trapping her here Keva wasn’t sure. 

She stood up and clutched her wounded arm, there was a wet spot where her wound was seeping. This didn’t make any sense, none of it. If Morag were the traitor, someone would have known. Someone would have seen the signs. How could he have even coordinated with the Invaders to make his play? He worked in a lab just as often as Keva. He had people he would report to who would monitor his actions. He had an immediate sup—

The terrible truth rolled through her all at once. Morag wasn’t the traitor, he was a traitor. Probably not even the first. She knew only two people who could have orchestrated a treachery this deep, and only one of them spent a significant amount of time around Morag.

She tried to lock eyes with him under the tattered scraps of cloth that made up his cloak and through the bits of debris being kicked up by the Door, but Morag was watching the progress of his work instead.

“Tell me,” she shouted over the roiling noises of the vortex, “what do Agram’s boots taste like?”

Morag snapped his gaze to hers and narrowed his eyes. “Careful, Keva. You may find yourself the one polishing the Master’s boots before long. You have few options. Without energy, you won’t survive the Geyser. So what shall it be, then?” He held his arms out in front of him, to present her options.

“Death? Or obedience?” He had a wry humor in his tone. “I will let you discuss the details with Agram. I have a minimum safe distance to maintain.” Morag floated towards the staircase, the only exit from the facility.

Silently Keva chastised herself for believing Morag’s lie about hibernation sickness. Her own skin must have changed due to some anomaly in the energies in the area, but she had no time to think about what may have caused it. She wracked her brain, trying to think of a plan with what she had at her disposal. The energy reservoirs were draining, the constructs had no power, and the displays were all offline. She had no energy to speak of, but … What is that? She could feel a trickle of energy in the air, something teasing at the back of her mind.

It felt odd, like the energy was something strange, but the way it was structured seemed more familiar to her. She perked up as it dawned on her. That must be it! Padram had called it Dreamsight. Someone must be trying to contact me! She cleared her mind and tried to recall Padram’s instructions. Someone had done the hard part for her in establishing the connection, now she just had to open her mind up to it. She reached out with her senses through the intervening space, and the source of the energy came into full view, bathed in daylight.

Please let that be someone from the Order of Daylight. If I ever needed their help, it’s now. Please be Une, or Padram. Even Durresh. Anyone but—

Before she could articulate the thought, she recognized Agram in all his profane glory, sitting on a throne of bones. His massive form was twisted and discolored like Morag’s, and a cloth covered his features, obscuring where his eyes had been.

A satisfied grin polluted his face but it did nothing to blunt his already grotesque appearance. She wanted to hate him, she wanted to strike back for everything he had done. But now, seeing a true fiend in the flesh, she could feel something in her shrink away.

“Councilor Keva,” Agram said, his deep gravelly voice filled with a mocking tone. His hulking form cast a long shadow even in the midst of this all-saturating sunlight. “I’d say that it’s been a long time, but such pleasantries may feel insincere.”

A lump swelled in Keva’s throat. She swallowed hard, and tried to put her best indignant face on. “How bold of you to assume I would take pleasure in your company.”

“Wit. Good. I’m glad to see your mind is as sharp as ever. I have a tremendous gift for you.” He held up his hand, and swirling purple energy whirled around it. He held it out for her to take but it felt wrong, the same way Morag’s energy had felt wrong. He was offering her a trap, and a poorly concealed one.

“Do you really expect me to take the bait?” Keva said, impatience creeping into her voice.

“No. I expect you to do the careful calculation of your situation and come to the clear conclusion: That you have no other option. I don’t need to deceive you, Councilor. I can simply let time bring you into the fold.” He leaned in as he sneered; she could practically smell the death on him. 

Keva clenched her fist as she stared up at him. She had no rebuttal. Her situation was desperate, and he knew it. She pulled her perception back away from him. She couldn’t stand to look at him any longer.

Morag’s voice in the control room snapped her back to her senses. She struggled to refocus her eyes as he spoke.

“For what it’s worth. I hope you make the right choice. I always found your work to be … insightful.” Morag stopped just inside the stairway and turned slightly to look at Keva.

Her temper flared. How kind! A compliment after trying to murder me! She took a breath and tried to calm down. No, that isn’t productive. Use what you know. He thinks he’s already won. Let him be the one to make a mistake.

“And I always found you to be the most selfish person I had ever met. Though now, perhaps the Foundation should award you second place in that, as well.” 

Morag turned, emitting a low, threatening growl. Keva crouched, and waited to make her move. 

Take the bait, traitor. Keva thought to herself. Fire on the Door, open a pathway to attack me. Give me something to work with, you insufferable blowhard.  

The “Geyser,” as Morag had called it, was starting to spin out of control. It tore parts of the control room to pieces as it grew, roiling streaks of black and purple energy ripping work stations apart as it went. The noise brought Morag to his senses. He chuckled—a sickly, rasping sound—despite himself.

“Clever, but did you really think you could bait me into casting a stray spell into the Geyser? I doubt it would destabilize at this stage anyway. It’s a shame you won’t get another chance; I do so love our little talks.” He faded into the shadows of the stairwell, gliding upward. Only a pair of yellow eyes gave away his position before they vanished too.

“YOU COWARD!” Keva shouted after him, tossing a stray construct part from the console next to her. The clashing energies from the Geyser reduced it to scrap with a violent screech of tearing metal.