Reversals.

Samuel is gone. It sickens me to think about it, after the last few weeks, doubting him. Sometimes I think of magic as fantastic beyond the limits of reason, but all I see is the reality. I’ve seen more blood today than I can take.

Yesterday began cautiously. We could be seen through the windows rather than looking out of them. There hadn’t been another call from Enright. By lunchtime, although we’d hardly been prisoners long, we decided not to wait on reprisals, since we might be waiting forever. Samuel went out, although I’ll not learn where now. He always found an errand to run. Angela went into town to check out the agencies, looking for long-term work. Norman and I were left to wonder what constituted carrying on as normal. After we ate, we watched TV.

About 4 o’clock, the once-magician I met at the market – the one who called Samuel ‘Salt’ – was stood alone outside the front door. I was watching through the spy hole. It may be a natural effect of a fish-eye lens to make faces look guilty, but I decided not to open the door. Then I heard the back door being forced, Norman ran into the kitchen but was backed up by four of Enright’s thugs. I had my phone in my hand, but it was taken off me. Enright was in the kitchen door, directing his men.

They put those plastic ties police use in riots round our wrists. I’ve bought things packaged with those – they can only be cut loose, unless you release one notch at a time. Enright’s henchman pulled the strip through so tight it cut into my skin, but we were sat down already, so he left our hands in our laps. We sat on the sofa like disobedient boys. When Norman made to move, one of the thugs put his boot down on his chest and held him there. Meanwhile they opened the front door, and the whole party came in.

As well as his six thugs, both Enrights had come; Nicholas Graham, the ‘Salt’ man, and two other carvers were there; and also Enright’s son. When I first saw him I was relieved, thinking Enright couldn’t do anything too severe in front of his boy. But then I remembered a third Enright had been killed, bloodily, with the boy in the audience: with both Enrights here, he must know a third was dead.

After two of the henchmen had searched the house, one of the Enrights – the one with the navy tie – spoke:-
“Where are the others? We need to speak to you together.”
“Us together, or you two together?” I asked.
“Very funny.”
“Seriously.” I said. “Which of you should I be talking to? Who’s the real Arthur Enright?”

They looked at each other, puzzled for an answer, and then the one I could see – the one in the tweed jacket – smiled.
“We’re both equal claimants to that title.” He said. “Speak to either of us.”
“Why isn’t at least one of you under arrest?” Asked Norman, breathless under the weight of the henchman. The Enright in tweed held up my phone in a bandaged hand and started going through the menus.
“I believe the girl’s called Angela. Should I call her?”
“Best not to scare her off.” Said his twin. “They’ll both be back soon. Meanwhile I’d like to take a look in here.” He walked into the hall and slapped his hand on the study door. “Where is the key?”
“Samuel has it.” I lied. Enright didn’t react, except to nod at one of his men, who came forward with the crowbar I’m guessing he’d used on the backdoor. The doorframe cracked open like balsa.

“So which one of you did I see on Saturday?” I asked the tweed Enright.
“That was me, yes. You’ve recovered your composure since, I’m glad to see. You were wanting to know why I’m at liberty? You saw the chainsaw I believe? Top of the range. Made short work of my brother. Stripped off his finger prints and his face.” I looked behind Enright to see Arthur junior, sat listening, his face impassive. Later on I wondered about the trauma that was building up for his teenage years. “I was gone before the police came. Took a chunk out of my own hand to explain the blood. When I returned I found the police outside. I let them take the chainsaw, gave them a sample of my own DNA. When they get the results they’ll find they match. I put your call down to a neighbour phoning in a hoax, frustrated with the noise. It all went rather smoothly. Of course we can’t teleport anywhere unless he takes out a similar chunk.” He held up the bandaged hand. “Other than that, no harm done.”
“So you’re not mad at us?” I asked.
“Hmm?”
“ ‘No harm done.’ You’re not mad?”
“No. No, we’re not mad at all.” Enright assured me. I didn’t feel in a strong enough position to point out the irony.

Navy tie Enright came back out of the study with one of my father’s books.
“Fascinating place.” He mused. Two of the carvers went in to look, followed by the tweed Enright and his son. I wondered if their closeness meant he was the real father, but they’d been apart on Saturday night. “Fascinating-” he leafed through the blank pages “-but all completely dead. There’s the wealth of a planet in that room and it’s worthless. Do you see that?” Enright bent down to look me right in the face. “Do you not think it was a noble cause, to bring it back? Do you not think it was a worthy sacrifice?”

Unlike his twin, this Enright seemed to be waiting for an answer.
“But what you were doing made sense.” I said. “Nobody had to die before it made sense. They would have followed you anyway.”
“No. No, I’m afraid your father has raised you rather badly. You know nothing about magicians at all. They don’t follow questions, they follow power.”
The others emerged from the study again, thankfully empty handed.
“But you killed someone.” I said, rather idiotically.
“Stop telling them that.” Gasped Norman.
“Yes, do.” Enright said. “It’s untrue. Our brother was a willing sacrifice. He was prepared to pay the price, and took his own life.” He turned to look at his son, and again I saw the devotion in their eyes.
“Is that what you are?” I asked, for some reason wanting a prosaic answer. “Are you triplets?”
“Sort of.” Answered the tweed Enright. “We are the indivisible, divided.”
Navy tie Enright stayed bent down over me for a minute, and then he nodded, straightened up and returned to their side of the room. They talked about the study for a while, guessing at the contents erased from so many of the books. They mumbled to each other about next moves and vanities. The thug with his foot on top of Norman swapped places, and another boot came down with enthusiasm. Nicholas Graham went to the kitchen and brought tea back for the once-magicians. The hired muscle were left out. The tweed Enright went out to get more sugar. When he came back his hands were in the air. Samuel’s sword was held at his open collar.

Immediately I felt cold metal along my jaw. I flinched away, long enough to glimpse the knife before it was pressing beneath by eye.
“Everybody out.” Said Samuel, in a level voice. Navy tie Enright answered:-
“Put the sword down, now. Or young master Fold here will die.”
“I don’t care about the boy.” Samuel said. “I’m here to protect the study. You know that.”
“Then you’ve chosen the wrong hostage.” Enright said. “If you kill him, the real me is still alive over here. The first version. And you won’t survive this time.” The four thugs not holding me or Norman took up positions either side of Samuel as he edged into the room.
“If you’re not sure,” said Enright, “open his shirt.” He undid his own tie and shirt buttons, revealing a pale, clean chest. “Show him.” He told his twin. The tweed Enright undid his shirt, uncovering a livid scar – an imitation of the fatal wound. He must have been the Enright I first saw revived, with a shallow cut already healing. “He’s my decoy.” Said the unblemished Enright.
“I don’t believe you.” Said Samuel.
“Nor do I believe you’ll see the boy harmed.”

Samuel had moved into the middle of the room now, with everyone else shuffling away from him like stop-motion animation. Enright’s guards now blocked the door. I could see that Samuel was getting closer to me and I was figuring out how to move away from the blade, just for a second, to give him time enough to strike when he got near. Then we heard the front door, and Angela said “What the - ” before Enright’s men were on top of her. They led her into the living room by her hair.
“Now.” Said the free Enright. “I’ll ask you again to put that ridiculous sword down on the floor, or the boy will be our second victim here.”

Of course, Samuel saw no choice but to do as he was told. He had his legs kicked from under him, and his arms were tied behind his back.