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false-bottomed boxes, and eyes that could never behold
wonder. My sisters would have it no other way.
My fists could find no purchase for themselves—nothing,
that is, save empty air and the filthy walls of the cavern.
While the Prince of Smoke was nowhere, his laughter was
everywhere. It came from the deepest recesses of the cave,
the broken jaws of twice-dead wolves, it even seemed to
tumble from my own mouth.
I thought perhaps the deeper darkness that slept within the
very guts of the cave might deny my opponent the trick of
attacking from anywhere—I hoped his eyes were not as keen
as my own. After much calculation of the Princes’ tactics, I
managed to seize hold of him and cast him into the depths
of the cave. Yet again there was no sound of flesh striking
rock, only the laughter of a man who could apparently be
everywhere and nowhere at once.
I splashed into the thick currents of darkness, brandishing
a large stone I had wrenched free from the earth. I took
pleasure at the thought of my enemy—as gaudy in his ways
as a refined jewel sleeping upon a wrought bed of gold and
silver—being dispatched by a crude and common rock.
The Prince revealed a side to his power I had not
anticipated, a side that was as wonderful as it was wicked.
I dropped through the world, ostensibly through a trap door
that had been recessed into the irregular filth of the cavern
floor. It would have been impossible for the magician to
have the foresight to place it there. I realized the power
of the man—men?—became greater the further he moved
from the prying eyes of the world, where his magic could
churn butter into butterflies and the world would never be
the wiser. It became clear to me the banality of the trio was
as fake as the floor, as deceptive as a mirage—as polished as
a two-way mirror.
I fell into the thickest darkness that could be found within
the steadier boundaries of the Deadworld. This was a place
of uncertainty—perhaps tucked under a leaf or at the back
256 | Mark Anzalone