“Maybe you could come watch me make something, someday.”
Magda smiled. “I’d like that.” She hopped up onto her seat on the crate and pointed at the well-used collection of exquisite metalsmithing tools, semiprecious stones in divided wooden trays, assorted supplies, and the small books filled with notes that had belonged to her husband.
“I was making an excuse at the time,” she said, “but I think Baraccus would like you to have his tools.”
Merritt’s eyes lit up. “You really think so? Me, have the tools that belong to a First Wizard?”
“I guess that they’re my tools now. I know that I would like you to have them. I really do think that Baraccus would approve. He would want them to go to a good use, to a good person.”
Merritt reached out and reverently touched some of the small tools in the collection. They really did seem to mean a great deal to Merritt. He respected their value.
“These are some of the finest tools I’ve ever seen.”
“I’m glad you like them and that you can put them to good use,” Magda said with a smile.
He pointed, then, at the little books beside the tools.
“What are those?”
Magda lifted her head to see where he was pointing. “Oh, those. Notes he took, I guess.”
Merritt gestured to the books. “May I?”
Magda’s smile widened at seeing how excited he was by such simple things as tools and notes. She leaned forward enough to slide the stack of little books closer to him. “Of course. Maybe they can be helpful to you.”
Merritt picked up the one on top and opened it, slowly turning the pages, taking a look at what was written there. She watched his hazel eyes move as he scanned the pages.
As he read, his smile vanished. His eyes grew wide.
And then the blood drained from his face.
“Dear spirits . . .” he whispered.
Magda frowned. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
He began rapidly turning the pages. He studied each briefly, then turned to the next page.
“Celestial calculations,” he whispered to himself.
“That makes sense,” Magda said. She didn’t understand why he was so excited. Baraccus was forever writing down celestial calculations and measurements. He would take distances and angles from stars to stars, or from certain stars to a distant spot on the horizon, or sometimes to the moon. “I often heard Baraccus speaking to other wizards about celestial calculations, measurements, and equations. I thought all wizards knew about those kinds of things.”
“No, you don’t understand.” He tapped the book as he held it before her face, as if maybe she, too, should be able to decipher the tangle of lines and numbers and formulas. “These are celestial calculations.”
“You said that before. I’m sorry, Merritt, but I can’t make sense of them.”
“Magda, these are the rift calculations for creating a seventh-level breach.” His voice broke. “Dear spirits, these celestial calculations are the measurements and formulas from before the star shift. These are the formulas that I knew had to exist, but had never been able to find. These are the formulas that Baraccus said he couldn’t give me because they had been taken away and hidden in the Temple of the Winds.”
Magda felt goose bumps tingle up her arms as she hopped down off her crate. “Are you sure? Are you sure that these are those formulas?”
“Yes. Yes, the very ones.” He tapped the book excitedly again. “This is them. These are the occulted calculations and templates for creating a seventh-level breach. It’s all right here.”
As Merritt dropped heavily into the chair at the bench, Magda looked down at the small open book he was holding. The lines and writing looked like nothing but a bunch of angles and numbers to her, the same kinds of measurements Baraccus took all the time from his own observations. It was like a foreign language to her, but it was a language that Merritt, like Baraccus, understood well.
It came to her, then.
Merritt was still staring at the open book.
“I understand, now,” she said in little more than a whisper.
With a finger, Magda lifted his chin until his gaze met hers. “I understand.”
“What do you mean? Understand what?”
“Baraccus knew that you needed these. He must have brought them back with him from the Temple of the Winds.” She felt the goose bumps on her arms crawl the rest of the way up to the nape of her neck. “Remember what I told you before? That when he went there he found out that the boxes of Orden were gone and he could tell no one but me? He knew they’d been taken. Do you see? He must have brought these back so that the key could be completed.”
Merritt could only stare at her.
Magda swallowed past the lump in her throat. “He brought them back for you, Merritt. He knew what you were making, and he knew that you needed these. He wanted you to be able to complete the key, hoping you could use it to protect the boxes of Orden. He said that my destiny was to find truth. That led me to you, so that I could bring you to what Baraccus wanted you to have to complete the key.”
He put a hand to his forehead. “You’re making my head spin, Magda. Do you grasp the enormity of what you’re saying? It’s all so hard to believe.”
“The truth is there in your hand, in that book.”
“It certainly is. These formulas are staggeringly valuable. Some believe that their existence was only gossip and rumor. Some believe they never existed and were only a myth. But some of us knew from our work that they had to exist. And here they are, sitting on the First Wizard’s workbench.”
“They’ve been here ever since he returned from the underworld with them. He hid them in plain sight.”
Merritt’s eyes filled with tears as he stared up at her. His voice broke with emotion. “Do you know how many good men have died trying to re-create these formulas? Died making wild guesses in the dark?”
“And now you have what you need to finish the Sword of Truth?”
Merritt reached out and touched the blade. He lifted the little book. “With these I do. I believe that I now have everything I need to complete it.”
“You should be able to get some of the other men to help you finish the sword. The key will be complete.”
He went silent for a moment as he considered her words.
“I’ve already done all the preliminary work, and I did that by myself. No one helped me. I don’t really need any of those men to complete it.”
“Then why are the people trying to make the key always working in teams?”
“The council ordered the key made, but they didn’t know how to make it. They assumed it would take teams of wizards. A lot of things do.”
“Didn’t you tell them?”
“Every chance I got.” His face twisted with frustration. “They wouldn’t listen to anything I was telling them about how I thought the key needed to be made. Since it was such a complicated task, they guessed that a team would be needed just like they guessed about everything else. They wouldn’t listen. They thought that with more men they would be able to cover more ground, overcome the difficulties, and figure it out. But all that did was get more men killed.”
“But shouldn’t you have someone you trust help you?”
He regarded her with a meaningful look. “Yes, but with all that’s happening at the Keep, I don’t dare trust anyone. After all, you didn’t trust even the council with the news that the power of Orden is back in this world.”
“I guess you’re right about that.”