PULP & POPCORN

Page 46
“Of course it is. I control the life of every person in my empire.”
“You can take lives, but you cannot extend them. You summon death, but cannot hold
it at bay. Age and time have power over your weak flesh. You are but a man when that crown
is not on your head. When death calls, you will follow like any other.”
The Magician had a way of moving in close and speaking like an intimate, and he used
it to lull a person. Noel felt himself falling under the man’s sway and did his best to hold him
off.
“I know what fears prey on you at night, King.” The Magician said. “You see yourself
stooped by the force of age. You would have rather taken a sword on the battlefield than
wither away locked in this prison you call a home.”
“Stop,” Noel said, so low he almost did not hear himself.
“You surround yourself with young wives, hoping their vitality will seep into you and
keep you alive even one moment longer. Instead, they remind you how old you’ve become.
You should be dead already, and you are afraid to let go.”
“DAMN YOUR TONGUE, MAGICIAN!” Noel erupted.
“Why? Because I speak the truth?” He carefully regarded the king and his fury, just
barely held in check. “Because I can help?” He watched the anger ebb as the king struggled
to reign himself in. “I saw you watching me, and the answer to the question you are afraid to
ask is yes. You hope I am the miracle you’ve been praying for.”
“And? Are you?”
It was as if the Magician had been waiting for this question all night. He comes to life,
his eyes flashing read, his grin wide like that of a hungry wolf. “I am that and more. I can
fight off the ravages of age and guarantee they never trouble you again.”
Wary, Noel asked, “At what price do you offer this favor?”
“At no price, Lord. I do this because my King needs it.”
“If what you say is true…”