Addendum to the First Rule: "Magic is dead."

"I suppose," I said, "you're also going to tell me those things you told me about, the Fears, they aren't real either."

"Oh no," Jack said, "they are as real as can be. Realer, even."

My head hurt. I felt like Jack was just toying with me, telling me anything he wanted in order to gauge my reaction. "I'm going home," I said.

"Home?" Jack said. "You can't go home yet. I haven't told you the first rule of magic."

"Yes, you did," I said. "In the bar. 'Magic is alive,' you said."

"Oh, yes," he said, "I suppose I did say that. And it was, you know. But there were some rule changes a way back, corrections and addendums and all that. The new first rule is this: magic is dead."

I looked at him with bleary eyes. "How is that possible?" I said. "We used magic today. I've seen-"

"Do we have to go on about sight again?" Jack said. "Do you know how easy it is to manipulate sight and sound? Did you remember looking for yourself or was I always there to lend you a hand?" I remembered: each time I saw, he had put his hands over my eyes. Like he was adjusting them. "And when your fingers glowed, do you remember the tingling? Was that before or after I grabbed your arm?" He grinned and knew he had got me.

"But you flew," I said. "You raised yourself in the air and you stabbed your hand."

"Of course, I can do that," Jack said. "I'm Jack. But you? You're just a failed magician, Tom. And magic is dead and buried. I killed it myself, strangled it as best I could. Oh, you can still do a trick or two with it, even dead things have their uses."

"I've stopped believing a word you say," I said. "Magic is real, magic is a sham, magic is madness, magic is dead. Everything you say contradicts itself."

"Of course it does," Jack said. "That's magic."

"Shut up," I said. "I don't care anymore. I just don't care."

I started to walk away, when I heard Jack. "Tom," he said. "The way to work magic is to be mad. The way to be mad is to realize that nothing makes sense. And when nothing makes sense, the world becomes a more exciting place. Where magic is alive and dead and real and fake." He walked towards me and took out his silver knife and, even though I thought he was going to stab me, I couldn't move an inch. "Magic is many things." He pulled my hand forward and placed the silver knife in it. "But foremost it is this: magic is magic."

"Goodbye," he said and snapped his fingers and I woke up with my head on the bar, a silver knife in my hand.