The Magic Trick (The Card Game #2)

Ch 15 - The Magic Trick

CHAPTER XV

THE MAGIC TRICK

Viktor watched the Magician curiously. The man looked exceptionally clean-cut with his dark blue suit, tall black top hat, and well-groomed mustache. His heeled boots sprang up the side stairs and echoed across the stage, the thick platform standing several feet off the ground. All fell quiet to hear him speak.

"Hello, old friends and foes." He paused and held out his hand. The fog had produced the lightest drizzle, producing even softer snowflakes. "It appears our circus is stuck here for winter."

A drunken roar tore through the Square. Viktor grimaced as cold beer was sloshed on his neck. Nobles and beggars laughed or jeered.

"There's a lively bastard!"

"Three months of slurry for you!"

"Do your magic, Magician!"

"Give us an illusion!"

"An illusion? Already you are under several," the Magician retorted. "One being the assumption that I'm here to entertain you."

The people laughed, though some uncomfortably, Viktor saw.

"What are assumptions but self-sabotaging illusions?" asked the Magician. "How often we would rather see our plans turned on their heads than to accomplish any sort of greatness." He hoisted up a speckled globe. "For who would dare balance an egg on its end?"

Apparently audience participation was part of the show's appeal. Viktor watched the Magician select clamoring hands of the old and young, rich and poor—all of whom climbed on stage and took their turn at the challenge. They prodded the egg this way and that on the podium, sweating and squatting in their attempts, and yet both of the objects were too smooth to find balance points. The egg never failed to fall on its side and roll back and forth.

"Another illusion of life: That rules exist," said the Magician as the volunteers retreated. With a flick of his wrist, he tapped the egg's end on the table, so that its bottom cracked slightly to create a flat spot. He moved his hand away, and thus it stood point-up in the air.

Applause and chuckles rang out in foggy air, but heckles too.

Viktor leaned toward Romulus. "Was his last performance this strange?"

"Stranger," said Romulus. "And about dreams."

"Well, if he is one of the Seven, what in the world is he doing entertaining the masses?" Viktor hissed.

"Good question."

"Boundaries are only as real as your mind makes them," the Magician continued, "but regretfully, most understand this only at the end of their mind's days." This time the Magician cracked the egg in half. Viktor was disturbed not to see yolk, or even a chick, but a tiny old ashen bird that looked near death.

The Magician ignored the spreading murmurs. He rolled up his sleeves and nudged the feeble creature back into the cracked eggshell, covering it up with the other half. "If only we learned not to destroy our potential at its birth."

Viktor startled as the Magician threw the egg up in the air. It arced up and angled down on the crowd, causing people to jump aside.

Splat!

Viktor and Romulus craned their necks to see where the egg had broken on the cobblestone: Shell and yolk were splattered on the ground, but the dying bird was nowhere to be seen.

"What will you choose? Will fear keep you in the nest?" Magician took off his black top hat and shook it. "Or will you join the rising power and fly?" He put the hat back on his head and then tipped it up. More birds flew out from under than had any right to fit inside. "Either way, I tire of guessing. Let us move to a finale and be done."