29. Help him

We were not taken to Asanor's mansion; instead, twenty minutes later, we were on our knees in the familiar office of the country's leader, with grim expressions on our faces, awaiting the president's punishment.

And Rizor Circul was furious, he had heard the report of the secret place built by the ministers' children. I smiled mentally, the Hole was like a thorn in the heart of our country's rulers. Grant's father and his ministers' minions and other officials wanted to eradicate Virtul, and right under his nose his own son was trying to circumvent the ban on the virtual world.

“You have really disappointed me,” the man rose from his chair, looming over us like a thunderstorm over a hushed city.

Grant threw back his head, two dark gazes meeting. The president's anger and his son's unspoken rage came together in the same room, neither willing to back down, each believing he was right. I immediately found it hard to breathe. The atmosphere around me grew heavy, pressing a silent negativity against my chest.

“I did what I thought was right, and you don't get to decide what I want. You shouldn't have closed it!” the guy finally blurted out. “I will never forgive you for taking Virtul from me.”

Grant and I were of one mind on this point. I cast an accusing glance at Rizor as well, but he gave me a disparaging look and turned his attention back to his son.

“I did it for your own good.”

“That's what you all say,” the young man grinned, hiding his despair and helplessness behind a bitter smile. “I have heard this phrase a thousand times from you, from your friends, from Nin, you use these lofty words to hide your pleasure and your desire to ruin other people's lives. Good? All your ‘good’ has led you and your son to a worthless existence. Is this what you wanted, father?” Grant raised his hand, revealing a bracelet with a jingling chain. The air suddenly smelled fiery and sparks ran through his skin and hair.

“Calm down,” Circul grabbed his son's shoulder. “You're not yourself. We'll talk when you've cooled down and thought about your behaviour. What you're talking about now is unfounded anger and childish resentment.”

But Grant just laughed, making my stomach turn and the hairs on my arms stand up. The room went dark, even though the lights were still on, and the darkness seemed to pour out of the president's eyes, and the heat from the guy's body heated the room and burned away the last vestiges of restraint in me. I recoiled from a couple of mages who were losing control of their powers because of their emotions.

Death by mad magic – I would still prefer the end of a heart bursting open under the pressure of an exploding bomb.

“I understand why mum died. You gave her no choice. You stifle the happiness of everyone around you. I finally understand why everyone runs away from you, why the people you love have died. They've just gone where you can't reach them!” Grant didn't look like himself at all, like the spoilt boy he had been. There was nothing sweet or charming about his face now, just a terrible hatred.

Rizor stepped back in confusion, his hand slipping from his son's shoulder. The Circul suppressed a flash of his horrifying magic, the anger fading into pity, but Grant laughed again, so colourless I thought for a moment his father would strike him. If only to bring him to his senses.

He exhaled convulsively, closed his eyes and said in a low voice, “You put your life and the girl's in danger by disobeying my orders, as punishment I will show you the one you were so eager to see...”

Darkness flickered at the president's fingertips. It reached out to the young man, enveloping him in a mist. I was afraid to take a breath, lest the magic of Oblivion find a tasty victim in me as well.

Grant twitched a few times and collapsed, kissing the carpet with his cheek. Risor dispelled the magical haze that made it tearfully pleasant to look at the electric light of the bulbs hanging from the ceiling. Light, unlike the darkness of magic, had never frightened me.

Silently, my hated enemy lifted his son and carried him to the armchair, made his head comfortable, stroked his forehead and removed the hairs from his eyelids.

“Lie down,” he pointed to the sofa beside him.

I didn't dare make a move, staring in horror at Grant's face contorted with pain.

“Do you need a special offer?” the president turned in my direction. There was still no light in his eyes; there was blackness in them.

“Will you punish me as well?”

Circul Senior's gaze grew sour. “You could have stopped Grant. You didn't have to go after him”.

“No, I couldn't. You know that yourself. How would I dare? Besides, I didn't know where he was taking me.”

“You shouldn't have run away from the guards!” the man raised his voice. “You were almost killed the day before yesterday, and we still haven't found out who tried to do it. Every step you take could be your last, and you're both so reckless. Grant's still overconfident, thinks he has the world at his feet, but you're...”

“You want me to keep an eye on him? Tell him where to go and where not to go? How do you imagine that?”

“Yes, you must restrain his impulses and keep him from dangerous pursuits,” Circul seemed to take his own words for granted.

“I don't owe anything to anyone. Especially you,” I tried to make my voice sound as contemptuous as possible. I was amused at the thought of doing whatever my enemy wanted, whether it was a polite request or an ultimatum.

“I thought I made it clear to you when we signed the contract that you should behave sensibly. Don't forget what's at stake. I think my life is a fair price for you to take care of my son.”

Who cares what he was thinking? I'm gonna kill him anyway.

The president stepped towards me, hypnotising me with his gaze. The darkness stirred again, making me gasp for breath.

“Siri,” Circul looked at me seriously, “I keep my word, but you also keep my son's life safe. If you fail me again, I will split your soul from your body and never let you die. Do you understand me?”

More than that. I wanted to scream and beg the heavens for salvation, my mind was in agony, searching for a way out and finding none, I didn't need anything in this life, but Risor had found something to torment me with. What does a potential suicide fear more than death? To lose the opportunity to die.

And I knew Circul was capable of such an evil act. His dark, terrible Oblivion magic could bind me to the world of the living forever and take my life at the same time.

Although only ancient fairy tales and forgotten myths spoke of the transmigration of the soul into an object, I did not want to be a ring or a talking sword (or something worse in our high-tech magical age), fulfilling the purpose given by the creator.

So I nodded, not wanting to make my enemy any more unhappy. Risor's palm touched my cheek, his fingers tracing my chin.

“Help him,” there was no pity left in the president's eyes, darkness covered their sclera.

I looked away so I wouldn't see the magic of the murk coming towards me with anticipation. The last thing I saw before the light faded was the pale face of Grant, sleeping peacefully, wandering in Oblivion.