QUEST WORLD

Gotta Be A Mushroom Trip

I stare at Steel, and he stares at me, and the two of us probably look like a pair of suffocating fish with our mouths bobbing soundlessly.

"What happened?" I demand, but it comes out weak and breathy because I really am suffocating.

His quill exploded.

He told me to write what it is I want most, and his quill exploded. I used magic to make it—

No. No, I didn't use magic. That's insane.

"What did you do to me?" I ask with a little more vigor. "What was in that quill? What is going on?"

Steel shakes his head, breaking himself out of his shock, and his eyes drop to the floor. The remnants of his quill are sprinkled around my boots.

"Oh no. Oh no." He falls to his knees and starts sorting through the ash and bits of feather. "This was a quill."

"There's a traveling merchant who sells writing utensils. I'm sure he'd give you a great discount. What does this have to do with—"

"No—this was a quill." Steel looks up at me. His eyes are bloodshot. "A magic quill."

My brain goes blank for a second.

Then it fills with stories. History lessons my aunt would tell as my cousins and I made dinner. Threats my cousins would make when they wanted to scare me

Centuries ago, our rulers had magic quills. Quills that could rewrite fate. Quills that could level cities with a single written word or stop a war with a flourishing sentence.

"They're stories," I say, but my heart is still beating fast. "Make-believe."

"They still are, mostly." Steel picks up the largest remaining piece of the feather and drops it with a heavy sigh. "You know the full history?"

"Um, sort of?"

When he looks up at me expectantly, I shrug.

"Only certain people could use quills," I say. "There was a war among them and they all basically killed themselves off. Right? I don't remember what they were called though. Blotters? No—something with an A. Alters?"

"Authors." Steel stands, rubbing the spot between his eyebrows. "All right. This isn't how I wanted things to go. When I found you, you were supposed to use a little magic to prove to me and to you that you are who I'm looking for and we could gradually wade into this together. But since my first plan quite literally blew up, I'm just going to say this fast."

He takes a deep breath. I hold mine.

I think I know what he's going to say.

No, I know what he's going to say, and I instantly start shaking my head. Because it's downright ridiculous. He's ridiculous. This shattered quill is ridiculous. This whole night is RI-DIC-U-LOUS.

"There's still one Author," Steel begins. "In Ildodar, at least, but that's a whole other explanation I can't get into right now. There's one Author here, and it's the king."

"The king."

"Yes."

"The king is descended from an overthrown magical race?" I don't bother keeping disbelief out of my voice.

"No—the king was part of that original magical race. He was part of the coup that killed most of the Authors and made the rest go into hiding."

"Centuries ago?"

"Yes. He's the only remaining Author in this world, so he's had unlimited access to the magic they left behind. He's used it to keep himself alive and in power. Why do you think the world's set up the way it is? Why do you think none of these glory-seeking adventurers has ever challenged the king for power? Because he controls everything. He's an Author."