Chapter 40 magician in the trees

Barcelona, ​​November 1894 The fantasy circus has countless tents, and the rooms hidden in the back form a strong contrast with the black and white circus.It's colorful and vibrant, warmed by the light of amber lanterns. The space occupied by the Murray twins is especially lively.A kaleidoscope of colors, carmine, coral and canary yellow burst into brilliance, making the whole room often look like it was on fire, with a few fluffy cats scattered in it, some as black as coal, some as bright as coal. Such as Mars. Occasionally it is suggested that twins be sent to boarding school for a formal education, but their parents insist that their children will learn more from living with such a diverse group and traveling the world than if they are confined to classrooms and books .

The twins have always been very satisfied with this arrangement.They would attend occasional classes on a myriad of subjects, read whatever books they could get their hands on, and often end up piled high in the cast-iron cradle, too old for the two of them to squeeze into. But he was reluctant to give it away. They knew every inch of the circus, and they moved from colorful to black and white with ease, and were equally comfortable and happy in both spaces. Tonight the two of them sat in a striped tent, under an imposing tree with black, leafless branches. It was very late at night, and no customers stayed in this tent.With only a few hours until dawn, it was unlikely that any other visitors from the circus would happen to be here.

The Murray twins reclined on the great tree trunk, sipping steaming spiced apple juice. They had wrapped up their performance for the night, and the rest of the day before dawn was at their disposal. Do you want to read a book tonight?Weiji asked her sister: We can go for a walk, the weather is not so cold.He pulled out his pocket watch from his jacket to check the time.It's not that late either.But late by their definition is extremely early for many, he added. Poppy bit his lip thoughtfully for a moment before answering. No, she said: last time everything was red and chaotic.I figured I might have to wait a while and give it a second try.

Red and chaotic? Poppy nodded. It's a pile of things overlapping each other, she explained: fire and something red, but not at the same time.There's a shadowless man with a feeling that everything's going to fall apart or get tangled up like a kitten pulling yarn until it's knotted and you can't find the beginning or the end anymore. Did you tell Celia?Wedgie asked. Not yet, said Poppy: I don't want to tell her things that don't make sense.Most of the time, things make sense in the end. Right.Wage said. Oh, and one more thing, said Poppy: We're going to have company soon.This thing is also shown somewhere inside.I don't know if it was before or after, or something in between.

Can you see who it is?Wedgie asked. can not tell.Bobby said succinctly. Weggie was not surprised. What is that red thing?He asked: Can you tell the difference? Poppy closed his eyes and thought. Looks like paint.she says. Wage turned to look at her. Paint?he asks. It looked like paint spilled on the ground.Poppy answered.She closed her eyes again, but then opened them hastily.Deep red, all the images are a bit mixed together, I don't like the red part very much, when I first saw it, my head hurt; the part with the partner feels better. It's good to have a partner, Wei Ji said: Do you know what time it is?

Bobby shook his head. Some things feel imminent, others feel far away.They sat quietly leaning against the trunk, sipping juice. Please tell me a story.Bobby said after a while. what kind of storyWedgie asked.He would always ask her, and give her the chance to specify which story she wanted, even though he already had a score in mind.Only his preferred or special audience can get this preferential treatment. The story about the trees is fine.said Poppy, looking up at the gnawing branches above. Wedge paused before speaking, letting the tent and trees settle down as a silent prelude, and Poppy held back his temper and waited.

Secrets have power, Wedge began to say: When a secret is shared, that power diminishes, so it's best not to tell it, but to keep it.Sharing a secret, a real secret, an important secret, even with just one person, changes the nature of the secret.Writing secrets is the worst, because who knows how many eyes will see them engraved on paper, no matter how carefully you handle that paper.So when you have a secret, you'd better keep it firmly, for the sake of the secret itself, and for your own good. This is part of the reason why there is less magic in the world now.Truth be told, magic is secret, secrets are magic, and after year after year of teaching and sharing magic, it has gone from bad to worse.Writing magic in rare books that have become dusty with age gradually weakens the magic, removing its power bit by bit.Perhaps this situation is inevitable, but it is not inevitable.Everyone makes mistakes.

The greatest wizard of all time made the mistake of sharing his secret, and his secret was both magical and important, so it was a pretty serious blunder. He told the secret to a girl who was young, smart and beautiful Poppy snorted at the glass, and Wage stopped. Sorry, she said: Go ahead, Wedgie. She was young and bright and beautiful, Wedge went on: because that girl would be easier to resist if she wasn't beautiful and bright.Then there would be no story at all. The wizard is old, and of course quite clever.He has not revealed his secret to others for a long time.As time went by, maybe he forgot how important it is to keep a secret, maybe her youth or beauty or cleverness made him dazed.Maybe he's just tired, maybe he's drunk and doesn't realize what he's doing.Whatever the circumstances, he told the girl his deepest secret, the hidden key to all his magic.

When secrets are passed from wizard to girl, they lose a bit of their power, just like a cat loses a bit of its hair when you pet it all over.But they were still strong and effective and magical, and the girl used them against the wizard.She had played tricks on him in order to get his secret and then keep it for herself.She didn't care much about keeping the secrets, and probably wrote them down somewhere too. She trapped the wizard himself in a great old oak tree like this one.The magic she had used to trap him was very strong, because it was the wizard's own magic, old and strong, and he couldn't undo it.

She left him there, since no one else knew he was in the trees and couldn't help.But he didn't die.The girl would have killed him long ago if she could have made him tell the secret, but she could not take his life with his own magic.But maybe she didn't want him to die after all.She cared more about power than him, but in a way, she probably cared a little bit about him too, so she wanted to keep him alive.She took the next best thing and simply trapped him, which was the same goal for her. But to be honest, she wasn't as successful as she thought.She was careless and didn't keep her newfound magical secret well.She shows off and doesn't take magic seriously.Its power finally died, and so did she.

On the other hand, the wizard becomes part of the tree.The tree was growing vigorously, its branches spreading upwards, and its roots reaching far into the ground.He is inseparable from the leaves, the bark, and the sap, and he is part of the pinecones that the squirrels carry away and grow into oak trees in various places.Those trees grew bigger and bigger, and He was also in those branches, leaves and roots. In the end, the wizard lost his secret and gained immortal life instead.His tree stood after the wise girl grew old and lost her beauty, and in a way he grew bigger and stronger than ever.However, if he was given the chance to do it all over again, he should be more cautious about his secrets.When Wedge finished speaking, the tent fell silent again, but the tree felt more alive than before he spoke. Thank you, Poppy said: Good story, but kind of sad, but not exactly sad. You're welcome.Wage said.He took a sip of the juice that had been reduced from scalding to lukewarm.He held the cup in both hands, raised it to eyebrow height, and stared at it until steam curled up from the surface. Warm mine too, please, Poppy said, holding out his cup, which I've never been good at. Well, I've never been able to get things to float, so we're even.Wage said, but still took her glass without complaint and concentrated on it until it was steaming and warm again. He gestured to hand her the glass back, and the glass floated from his hand to hers, the surface of the juice wobbling slightly from the movement, but otherwise smooth as a slide across a table. love present.Wage said. They sat and sipped rewarmed juice, looking up at the dark branches that twisted toward the top of the tent. Weiji?Poppy asked after a long silence. Um? So, being stuck somewhere isn't that bad, is it?Depends where you are stuck? I think it all depends on how much you like to be trapped in your own place.Wage said. It also depends on how much you like the person you're stuck with.Poppy added, kicking his black boots with his white boots. Her brother laughed, and the sound echoed through the tent, through the candle-covered boughs, and every flame flickered and blazed white.