Page 31 of The Mage and His Stolen Prince
I raised my hand, fingers pressed together for a snap. “Re—”
“You aren’t running away this time!” Delilah shouted as she lunged at me.
Her arms closed around my middle as my snap and my command finished at the same time, “—set.”
We crashed to the ground hard enough to knock the wind from me. Delilah landed on top of me and recovered quicker. She adjusted her position to straddle me, weighing me down with her body, and grabbed both of my wrists. She slammed them above my head, holding me in place as if I was struggling against her when all I had managed so far was a gasping wheeze.
Why do I keep getting into these situations with thewrong person?
Her eyes blazed with fury as she glared down at me.
I anticipated a whole range of questions:What did you do? Where are we? Where’s your evil master? What’s your evil plot?But I failed to guess the first question she asked.
“Where’s my collar?”
Interruption Two
The Real Present Day
Outside the Apprentice’s Pocket Dimension
Trying to Find a Way Inside
The Good Wizard’s deep frown was not quite hidden behind his growing-in beard. Pocket dimensions could be any size, inside and out. The space they took up in the primary dimension could be as small as a burrow in a tree while holding an entire world within. The fact that the apprentice’s pocket dimension had spread across an entire region meant one of two things: this was a roundabout way for the apprentice to take over the world by replacing the primary dimension with one of his creation, orhe had lost control.
The second explanation was a far more terrifying prospect. The Good Wizard could thwart an evil mage with a plan. But a fool without one? The gods help them all.
The Good Wizard grimaced when he remembered thathe, not the gods, had to solve this problem.
“I am not made for quests,” he declared. “I am amentor only. Some other Chosen One will rise to defeat this evil.” He paused and waited. Speaking things into the world, especially done by one as soaked in magic as he, usually produced results.
Nothing happened.
He inched toward the barrier. It was opalescent and thin as a bubble’s membrane. Looking straight on, he saw the edge of the town the pocket dimension had absorbed. A house had been abandoned with clothes on the line, rustling gently in the breeze, equipment and toys scattered through the yard. When he squinted, he saw another city entirely—somewhere in Calamity if he guessed correctly by the banners flying on the store fronts. It wasn’t a perfect replica—more like a children’s drawing of a home they barely remembered—but the people inside obliviously went about their normal day.
The Good Wizard raised his hand and focused on the closest building. It overlapped with the original house, giving him double vision. He mentally set aside the primary dimension and tried to push through the barrier.
The barrier indented under his touch like a balloon full of water.
He gritted his teeth and pushed harder, channeling magic into his hand.
The barrier dipped inward and strained against him.
A little … more … pressure …
The barrier rebounded, tossing The Good Wizard away. He flew through the air, his wide sleeves flapping like useless wings, before tumbling into a grassy field. His legs bent uncomfortably over his head to touch the dirt beyond it and the skirts of his robes slipped down to cover his face. He sat there for a moment, stunned, before somersaulting to his feet.
“You brat!” he shouted, shaking his fist in the air.
The pocket dimension had grown in size, absorbing another chunk of land.
This was why good wizards did not quest. He’d only worsened the situation.
The pocket dimension had already swallowed thousands of people, why had it spit up one wizard?
The Good Wizard narrowed his eyes, reminded of his own spell. When evil mages looked at the Desolated Lands, they saw the destruction it had been falsely named for. If they somehow discovered the truth and tried to force their way in, the spell expelled them.
Exactly like the pocket dimension that had just expelled him.
