Read the First Chapter of How to Revive a Dangerous Deceitful Trickster

A deep yawn filled my lungs. The heaviness of my body dragged down my limbs, heart, and soul as I rested my head in my hands. Exhaling, I leaned back in the squeaky office chair and let my eyes drift shut. It had been an exhausting past few days after rescuing Lizzy and returning from Iradel, but the real battle had only just begun—the battle for my life.

My breathing slowed as I urged myself to relax and release the tension tightening in my shoulders. The small lab was quiet, the only sound coming from a noisy vent above me. It wasn’t really a lab at all, but an old janitor’s storage closet at Arcane Enterprises that Daphne cleaned out and stocked with some equipment and supplies. It wasn’t ideal, but it was the best place for us to stay hidden and ensure other technicians wouldn’t snoop around our work.

It was a struggle to keep my eyelids open. I hadn’t been able to sleep very well since returning, so Rezith decided if we weren’t getting any rest, we could at least put the time to good use in a lab.

Rezith gave me a mental slap in my head. Get up, you lazy ass. We have work to do.

My limbs jerked and twitched on their own as he tried to take over, but my body was so exhausted it failed to comply.

“How is tinkering with all this lab equipment gonna help us?” I spoke out loud. There was no one else in the lab but us. “Captain Myra Llama spilled the beans about your presence inside my head. The Chitol military is coming after us, and they don’t seem like the type of people who would patiently wait for us to explain ourselves before shooting us in the head. Not to mention, your best buddy Nolan Benson seems to have his own agenda to capture us … specifically you.”

The spell that was keeping our consciousnesses separated is being stretched thin. I need to buy us some time to fix this.

“Yeah? And whose fault is that? You’re the one that chugged that stupid memory-enhancing liquid from Nolan because you just absolutely had to get all your memories back.” I wanted to be angry at him, but I couldn’t muster the energy to care.

It wasn’t one of my finer moments. I could hear his sigh inside my head. I admit I wasn’t thinking straight, but my knowledge … there’s something I’m missing and I know it. I just have this feeling that if I can get my memories back, maybe I can find a way to stabilize the spell, or at least buy us enough time to figure out what’s next.

What was next? It was a question Rezith consistently evaded. The fact was, there were two minds trapped inside one body. Even if he found a way to stabilize the spell, it wouldn’t last forever. Not to mention he’d still be stuck with me. The alternative was his extremely powerful copy magic would overtake my weak nullifying ability, and I’d eventually cease to exist while Rezith claimed my body. Neither sounded like a great plan.

Rezith was yammering something, but as his grumbling trailed off, the soothing lullaby of a piano melody started playing in my ears. The music was only inside my head, but it continued on loop while I drifted off to sleep and one of Rezith’s memories replayed in my mind.

In this dream, one of many I’d experienced recently, I glimpsed Rezith’s old life through his eyes.

“Rezith, my friend, are you sure this is a good idea?”

Rezith’s gaze darted to a familiar face. Nolan Benson looked twenty years younger. His nearly black hair had no signs of gray and the scruff on his face was replaced with a clean-shaven jaw, but that slippery voice hadn’t changed one bit. He walked over to a cabinet in the far corner of the military research facility, grabbed a few glass beakers and containers, and placed them on a stainless steel table in front of Rezith.

“And why wouldn’t it be a good idea?” Rezith picked up a beaker and examined the measuring lines. The glass reflected his messy blond hair and a five o’clock shadow covering his jaw. He set the beaker down and began mixing a collection of powders and liquids. “NightFly Technologies is at the forefront of magiceutical advancements. Think of all the good things they could do—all the lives they could save—with this new treatment. That we created thanks to our military research and my magic.”

I had gotten to know Rezith well enough over these past several months to recognize that the smile stretching across his face wasn’t there because he was interested in money or fame. He was genuinely excited to help people.

Nolan took a step back, a disappointed look shadowing his face. “I didn’t do much of anything, Rezith. You’re the brains of this operation, and what you’re doing with your magic … I have no doubt what you’re doing will help save lives, but don’t you think we need to test this more? Your ability to copy magic works well for you, but we haven’t tested your altered magic on enough people to understand if there are any long term side effects. What happens if something goes wrong? What if this treatment that’s meant to save lives ends up destroying them?”

Rezith scoffed at Nolan’s statement. “You overthink things, Benson. There are side effects to every drug. But we’ve tested this magic a million times, and so far, we’ve had nothing but perfect results. My copy magic was made for this. If bonded to the right supplemental magic, it can copy healthy cells within the body and eradicate damaged ones. Maybe even regrow limbs. Cure diseases thought to be incurable. Why are you suddenly so against this?”

Before Nolan could answer, a young female soldier marched into the lab, accompanying two well-dressed men. Visitor badges hung from their lapels.

“Chief Director of Magic Technology, Kellen Rezith, and Head of Magic Technology, Nolan Benson,” she shouted by way of greeting. “I’d like to introduce to you the CEO of NightFly Technologies, Larris Gatlin, and his assistant, Zavyr Taracula. They’re here to view a demonstration.”

A third unnamed man wearing dress pants and a polo followed behind the two visitors. He stayed back by the door, waiting patiently, with his hands clasped in front of him.

His eyes skeptically took in the room, as if inspecting it for danger. It was definitely a mess, with paperwork shoved haphazardly on top of a filing cabinet along with glassware and equipment placed wherever they could find space to put it. Knowing what the labs looked like at Arcane Enterprises, the small military research facility used by Rezith and Nolan must have looked extremely disappointing to the important-looking businessmen.

“Thank you for the introduction, Private.” The older gentleman then peered over to the man by the door and spoke. “Mr. Ekker, we’ll be fine here. You can wait out in the hallway, and I will let you know when we’ll be in need of your magic to transport us back to NightFly Technologies.”

The transporter nodded and exited with the soldier, leaving behind the two finely dressed men to gawk at the grungy research space.

“Mr. Gatlin.” Rezith paused. He shut off the harmonic music serenading them from the speakers as he shuffled over to greet his two guests. “I apologize for the mess. I didn’t realize you were stopping by today.”

Larris, the older of the two visitors, stood tall in his perfectly tailored custom suit. His black jacket created a smooth, straight line across his shoulders, dropping sharply to his waist to hug his plump midsection.

“I like to make my visits unannounced. I find when meetings are scheduled, my clients tend to try too hard to impress me.” Larris gave a charming smile, his face reflecting his age as deep creases formed around his mouth. His dull green eyes looked tired, defeated almost, and heavy black circles framed them. Yet, despite this, his voice exuded both excitement and anticipation.

Rezith held out his hand to Larris in greeting, and it took the man a moment to reciprocate. His grip lacked the strength you’d expect from such a man of high importance.

“I see. Well, you are always welcome here, Mr. Gatlin.” Rezith’s gaze wandered over to Zavyr, who slipped Rezith a sly smile. “I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Kellen Rezith.”

“Zavyr Taracula.” He kept his gaze pinned to Rezith. Unlike Larris, his handshake had prowess behind it—a firmness that cleverly displayed the power he yielded without speaking a single word. He pushed a bit of magic behind it, the grayish smoke rising off his hands evidence of his claim for dominance. I could feel Rezith was slightly taken back as it tingled through his fingertips.

Zavyr, perhaps in his early thirties, had a full head of slick black hair with early signs of gray at the roots. His silver eyes were alert, flashing with something mysterious as he peered past Rezith and directly at Nolan. The sharp lines of his jaw, rigid shoulders, and chin thrust gave all the signs of someone who commanded a room with looks alone.

“Zavyr here is shadowing me to learn about the company,” Larris stated. “He’s the new face of NightFly Technologies. I’m not much for the spotlight, but Zayvr has a knack for the business. He knows how to control a crowd, tell them what they want to hear. People listen to him. Who knows?” He slapped Zavyr on the shoulder. “Maybe one day he’ll take over the business when I retire.”

Zavyr let out an amusing laugh. It was almost unnoticeable, but laced within its playful tone was a hint of mockery. The subtle gesture completely eluded Larris as he pressed a hand to his belly and chuckled alongside his CEO-in-training.

“Chief Director Rezith.” Zavyr’s cheeky laugh had disappeared, his tone turning serious. “Mr. Gatlin has put me in charge of this military contract. Going forward, you will report to me. Now, I would like to see a demonstration of where you’re at with your testing.”

He stepped around Rezith and over to the workstation where Nolan was standing. Nolan seemed uncomfortable by Zavyr’s presence, averting his gaze and occupying himself with some paperwork when Zavyr looked his way. If Zavyr was bothered by him, he didn’t show it. He was only interested in the colorful vials of magical powders and liquids displayed on the table. Larris followed to join him.

“Absolutely, Mr. Taracula. We can do that. Benson? Will you prepare a subject for testing?”

Nolan nodded at Rezith’s instructions and strolled over to an area of the lab, where a few mice in cages were mindlessly sniffing. He carefully selected an unlucky rodent from the bunch and reached in to pick it up. Zavyr approached behind him, that smug look still plastered to his face, and placed a hand on Nolan’s shoulder. His lips began moving while Nolan listened, but their conversation wasn’t discernible through Rezith’s ears.

“Chief Director Rezith?” Larris asked, his voice harboring frustration.

Rezith’s gaze snapped back to Larris. “Yes, sir?”

“I asked you a question.” He picked up a vial and examined it between two fingers. “Will you explain exactly how this treatment of yours works?”

“Of course.” Rezith swiped another look over to Nolan and Zavyr. Their backs were facing him. Nolan’s shoulders tensed, but he turned to lock his wide-eyed stare on the man he was conversing with.

Rezith began explaining. “You see, my ability allows me to copy other people’s magic. But, by taking a sample of my magic and combining it with other medical treatments, it can actually be adjusted to copy almost anything—muscle, bone, even hair. If we can synthesize my magic correctly, it can also be mixed with existing medical drugs to make them stronger, more effective. Think … a superpowered anti-inflammatory for those with arthritis.”

“You are very clever, Chief Director Rezith.” He gave a curt nod. “But what about the mind?”

“The mind?” Rezith tilted his head. “I’m not sure I follow what you’re asking.”

Larris carefully put down the vial before addressing Rezith. “It was Zavyr’s idea, actually. Have you ever thought about taking your research to the next level and testing it on the mind? Not just to treat, but perhaps cure mental conditions like those with PTSD, psychosis, or memory loss.”

Rezith scrubbed a hand down his chin, his mouth dropping open before snapping shut. He cleared his throat before speaking. “That’s certainly fascinating, but I’m not quite sure magic works that way, Mr. Gatlin. The mind is complex. Some disorders are more psychological than physical. Memories aren’t something physical you can manipulate. You can’t just hit a reset button and rewrite part of someone’s life without consequences. You’re erasing a part of who they are.”

“Valid point.” Larris swept his fingers through his wispy white hair. “Mr. Rezith, have you ever considered continuing your research at NightFly Technologies?”

Rezith jerked back, and I could feel the sensation of his heart jumping inside his chest. His gaze darted over to Nolan and Zavyr following him around. With the test subject acquired, Nolan had moved on to mixing the drug for a demonstration.

“That’s very flattering, Mr. Gatlin, but I think I prefer my role within the military. I do more than just research here. I help the cadets learn to effectively wield their magic, teach them how to amplify it and become better soldiers.”

Larris gave a hearty laugh. “I understand. That’s very admirable of you. But the offer will always be on the table. Think about it. My facilities are state of the art and my assistant here is an expert in finding loopholes to progress studies that the military cannot.”

Rezith parted his lips. He inhaled and was about to speak before Nolan thrust out a white-gloved hand holding a syringe right under his nose.

“Oh, thank you, Benson.” Rezith studied the liquid. “Are you sure this is right? The color looks a little darker than usual.”

“Same as always, my friend.” Nolan flashed a quick smile, his gaze briefly glimpsing his audience.

“Of course it is.” Rezith nodded, his concern vanishing. “Then shall we get on with this demonstration?”

Everyone loomed over the white mouse scrambling around inside its prison cage, its little paws pressed up against the glass siding. Its pink nose wiggled, and a high-pitched squeak came from its mouth.

“This rodent is blind. But in a few moments, he won’t be anymore.” Rezith watched for any reaction from Larris or Zavyr, but neither so much as blinked. He was about to plunge the syringe into the mouse’s neck when Zavyr stopped him.

“Wait!” His hand caught Rezith’s wrist, squeezing it unnecessarily tight.

“Is something wrong?” Nolan answered, worry creasing his brow.

“I have a better idea.” Something dangerous manifested in the grin that slipped across his face. Zavyr cupped a hand near his mouth and whispered something into Larris’ ear.

Larris smiled and nodded at whatever Zavyr had said. “What a fantastic idea, Zavyr! Mr. Ekker? Will you please come in here?”

In an instant, their polo-wearing sidekick appeared in the doorway, his thin hair fluttering with his jerking movements. “Yes, sir?”

“There is a man named Tanr taking part in one of our clinical trials today. He should be arriving at NightFly Technologies right about now. Find him and bring him here as quickly as possible.”

“Yes, sir.”

In a poof of magic, the transporter disappeared, leaving behind a trail of brown sooty magic seen only by Rezith’s eyes.

“A person?” Nolan’s voice trembled. “We’re still testing the effects of this treatment on animals. I would strongly advise against—”

Zavyr held up his hand to cut off Nolan. “This is my project now. If you’d like to continue receiving our funding, then it’s time we move on to the next phase and start testing this treatment of yours on human subjects. If your results are as successful as you claim, then you have nothing to worry about.”

“But … there are protocols for things like this. We have to submit our research, and it has to be approved before we can proceed and human trials are allowed.” Nolan waited for someone to answer and back him up. No one did.

“You just leave that to me,” was Zavyr’s cryptic reply.

Rezith’s gaze ping-ponged back and forth between Zavyr and Nolan, and I felt the conviction rising inside him. He grabbed Nolan by the sleeve of his lab coat and pulled him aside.

“I understand your concerns, Benson, but I think he’s right. We’ve been testing this for five years now, and our results have always been positive. It’s time to move on.”

“But—”

Mr. Ekker popped back into the lab with an extremely confused middle-aged man. His arms were frantically waving around in the air, his breathing erratic. His eyes were a milky white, as was half of one side of his leathery face.

“Tanr was a victim in an unfortunate chemical accident,” Zavyr explained. “He completely lost vision in his left eye and has very minimal sight in his right. Instead of curing that helpless rodent, I’d like to see your magic fix his blindness.”

At Zavyr’s words, Tanr’s trembling became a giddy laugh. “Can … can you really do that?”

Larris raised his bushy eyebrows at Rezith, as if asking him the same question.

“I believe we can. Please have a seat here, Tanr.” Rezith guided his patient to a rolling office chair. “I apologize I don’t have something more comfortable for you to sit on at the moment.”

Rezith took one long look at both Zavyr and Larris, their eyes sparkling with anticipation and bodies leaning in with excitement. He switched his gaze to Nolan, whose mouth twisted in a panicked expression as all color drained from his face. Rezith’s heart was stammering inside his chest, beating rapidly against his ribcage. He tried to hide it, but as a spectator inside his head, I could physically feel his hand trembling with anxious concern. He had seemed confident in the procedure a few minutes ago, but Nolan’s words rattled him and he appeared wary about experimenting on a human. Still, Rezith continued.

“You’ll feel a pinch, some pressure, and the heat from the magic doing its work,” Rezith detailed to Tanr. “Bear with it, and in about an hour your eyesight should be fully restored.”

The patient nodded, and Rezith proceeded, pricking the needle right above his left eyebrow. Tanr did his best not to squirm. His white-knuckled grip held fast around the arms of the office chair. He seethed through his teeth as the red liquid emptied from the syringe.

“All done.” The empty glass syringe clanked against the metal tray as Rezith set it down. Nolan firmly gripped Rezith’s arm, pulling him back and away from Tanr. “Benson, what are you—”

A horrific scream tore from Tanr’s throat. He arched his back, convulsing until he fell off the chair and onto the floor with a heavy slap. The rolling chair was pushed backward, crashing into a shelf. Glass jittered, a few bottles fell and shattered. White foam bubbled from his mouth, and his skin rippled like worms were wiggling underneath it.

“What’s wrong with him?” Larris’ concern filtered through his shaking words. “What’s happening?” He backpedaled toward the door. Zavyr wasn’t far behind.

“I don’t understand.” Rezith tried to stabilize the patient while Nolan scurried off to gather some medical supplies. “What went wrong?”

“Mr. Ekker! It’s time to go!” Zavyr called out. “We’re done here.”

“Wait! Mr. Gatlin! Mr. Taracula!” Rezith pleaded.

Both Zavyr and Larris, along with their transporter, disappeared into thin air.

Nolan pulled a large red lever secured to the wall. The emergency alarm blared in the lab, the sound drowning out Nolan’s words as he tried to speak. He had to repeat himself a second time before Rezith understood them. “There’s nothing you can do, Rezith. The man’s as good as dead. I warned you not to do this. I warned you! Why wouldn’t you listen to me?”

A horde of soldiers filed into the lab, guns pointed at the hideous creature writhing on the floor. The copy magic injected into Tanr had gone berserk. His limbs had swelled to twice their size and his face was consumed by red boils that had grown so hot, steam was hissing off them. The magic inside him kept replicating until his body could no longer be identified as human.

“He’s overheating!” A female soldier ran over to the sink and filled up a bucket with water. She hurried over to Tanr as if she could put out the human fire about to erupt.

“No, don’t!” Rezith warned.

It was too late. She dumped the bucket on top of him, only spreading the magic on the surface of his skin. More boils bubbled under Tanr’s deformed body. They grew at an alarming speed until they started bursting with a thick white pus. He tried to cry out, the pain he must have been experiencing beyond imaginable. A grinding sound came from his shoulder, followed by a crack as the joint was completely ripped from its socket. Tanr’s throat had completely closed. His face took on a purplish-black color and his eyes bulged as his body could no longer take in oxygen.

A large boil on his neck burst and the magic-infected pus inside it hit the hand of the female soldier crouched down next to him.

“Wipe it off! Now!” Rezith searched around him, tossing her a clean lab coat from the back of a chair. She bunched it up and wiped off the infectious liquid, but not before another one popped up on her wrist. And another. Then another.

Rezith turned to Nolan. “Benson, what did you do?” His voice was both seething with anger and full of sorrowful hurt.

“I warned you not to do it. This one’s on you, my friend.”

There was a hint of remorse that cut into Nolan’s blinking eyes, but he didn’t offer any sympathy. His black shadows, laced with violet threads of magic, spiraled around him.

Despite this being a dream, one of Rezith’s memories, I could feel the heat of his magic hit Rezith’s face. Nolan’s shadows consumed him, and he disappeared, abandoning Rezith and leaving him to deal with the aftermath, ultimately taking the blame for everything that happened.

Rezith turned his attention to the catastrophe unfolding before him. Panic quickly scattered his thoughts. Tanr’s body had all but turned to an unrecognizable heap of chunky goop. The infected female wasn’t too far behind. More soldiers trying to help came into contact with the contagious magic. It was spreading like a wildfire, infecting everyone and killing them in a matter of minutes. The only reason Rezith wasn’t joining them was because it was made from his own magic. He was immune to its effects.

Rezith scampered out of the lab, bumping into a frantic light-haired male with turquoise eyes and pale skin. He bore a striking resemblance to someone I already knew.

Lizzy’s brother.

“Alvyn, don’t go in there. Run! Get out of here!”

His mouth dropped at the sight of Rezith’s frantic words, but he froze in place, unable to move.

“Alvyn, move! Now!”

A stumbling soldier appeared beside Alvyn in the doorway. His skin was mottled and red bulges erupted with oozing pus. Both his hands grasped at Alvyn’s shoulders, and he mumbled some incoherent words that were probably a plea for help.

It was too late. Garish purple lumps started bubbling under Alvyn’s skin. The young cadet screamed, gasping as tears streamed down his deformed face. He clawed at his eyes like he might be able to scrape them out of his skull. “P-please! Help me! Make it stop! It hurts … it hurts … so much!”

“I’m so sorry, Alvyn. I … I know it hurts. There’s nothing I can do about it but end your suffering.”

To my surprise, understanding crossed Alvyn’s features. He was terrified but accepted his fate like the proud soldier he was. “Please … please find my sister and tell her … tell Lizzy she doesn’t need me to protect her. She never did. She’s stronger than I ever was.” He swallowed, wincing at the pain, then gurgled out his last words. “Tell her I’m sorry for leaving her without saying goodbye.”

Sorrow clenched Rezith’s throat, cold tears slipping down his cheeks. He took his shaking hands and pressed them against either side of Alvyn’s head. I wasn’t quite sure what he did, but intense pressure seemed to shoot out of Rezith’s palms and into Alvyn’s skull. It was a quick death, hopefully painless, that ended his suffering from the magical parasite eating away at him from the inside out.

Rezith took only a second to mourn the loss of the soldier. It was all he could afford before he ran down the hallway screaming, “Everyone get out!”

In hindsight, it might not have been the best of ideas. Soldiers rushed past him, frantically trying to flee this rapidly multiplying magic so it wouldn’t consume them too. Some of them were already infected, though, and as they fled, they infected everyone they touched along the way.

Once Rezith pushed through the front gates of the military base, a familiar coastline town formed in front of me. The setting sun dipped below the horizon. Beautiful stone structures reached upwards into the mountain sky. Unfortunately, Warmont Cove was anything but a pleasant sight to look at.

The frantic residents didn’t know what to do. Some ran for cover, while others did whatever they could to help ease the pain of the dying soldiers. As more people became infected, mass chaos broke out. Residents and soldiers were fighting bloody battles against themselves. Children were screaming in the streets, crying as they searched for their lost parents. Buildings were set on fire with families inside them, hoping to burn whatever this curse was that was plaguing their town. It was a massacre—the massacre at Warmont Cove.

And, despite whatever role Nolan may have played in it, the result was all Rezith’s fault.

Guilt squeezed Rezith’s lungs, and he gagged as the charred taste of burning flesh slipped down his throat. Smoke from the burning buildings suffocated the ocean air. He traveled deeper through the streets of the village, watching helplessly as the casualties of his broken magic suffered and died horrific, painful deaths.

Rezith dropped to his knees, struggling to breathe. I felt it too, the overwhelming fear seizing his chest. What had he done? He tore off his lab coat, grabbing a worn out canvas cloak that someone had left behind on a nearby bench. He wrapped it around himself and left the villagers behind. As much as he wanted to help them, he knew what would happen if he stayed. There was nothing he could do for them now, and the only left to do was save himself. The military would certainly come for him, and no matter how much he’d plead for mercy, it would be his life on the chopping block. He did this, and they would make him pay dearly for it.

And that was when I was startled awake from the dream, my eyes shooting open to see a dense magical cloud hovering above me. My mind wavered, my vision blurred as I struggled to remember where I was and what I was doing. I had been thrust back into reality … and this magic consuming the lab at Arcane Enterprises wasn’t a part of Rezith’s memories. It was very real, and very dangerous.