The Conjuring of Zoth-Avarex

by K. R. R. Lockhaven

  Ana held out a fist, which Marian bumped. Harris and Jake both shook their heads.

  “The poorest people have it and the richest people need it. . . .” Marian scratched her head. “That could be something like compassion, or empathy.”

  “But how could eating those things cause death?” Harris said.

  “Yeah. . .”

  “A heart?” Marian offered.

  “Can eating a heart cause someone to die?”

  “I don’t think so,” Jake said. “But even if it could, how is a heart smarter than Eddie and dumber than a manager?”

  “I think we should focus on that first part,” Ana said. “I barely met that Eddie guy, but wouldn’t there be some kind of joke to his riddle? Some kind of sarcasm?”

  “Definitely,” Jake said.

  “Okay, so what would Eddie think was smarter than him?”

  “Nothing,” Marian said.

  “That’s it!” Ana seemed convinced. She turned to the locker and said, “Nothing.”

  “You have given the correct answer,” the phantom voice said. “The next protection is the challenge. Anyone who wishes to open this locker, and that means every one of you in this room, must demonstrate their worthiness by breaking a Site rule or protocol.”

  “What an asshole,” Marian said playfully.

  Without warning, Jake tackled Harris to the ground, damn-near knocking the wind out of him, and gave him a noogie.

  “Sorry,” he said, helping Harris back to his feet, “but that was horseplay, which is officially not allowed.”

  “One out of five,” the disembodied voice said.

  “Okay, I got one,” Marian said. “This policy has always bugged the shit out of me.”

  “Go for it,” the voice said.

  “Okay. Two muffins were sitting in an oven. One turned to the other and said, ‘Hey, it’s pretty hot in here, isn’t it?’ The other turned and shouted, ‘Oh my God, a talking muffin!’”

  Jake snorted with laughter.

  “Two out of five.”

  “No jokes allowed is the worst rule ever,” Jake said.

  “I got one,” Ana said, taking out her wand.

  With the flick of her wrist and a mouthed word, glowing purple smoke began to emit from the end of her wand. The smoke congregated in the corner of the locker room and began to swirl. In the swirl, a form began to take shape. In a matter of seconds, a unicorn stomped a hoof and whinnied in the room.

  “Is that real?” Harris said.

  “Try touching it.” Ana held out a hand.

  Harris reached out to pet its neck, but his hand passed through it.

  “It’s just an illusion.”

  “That’s amazing.” Harris was thoroughly impressed. It looked so realistic.

  “Three out of five.”

  “I’ve had Casters help me with some epic pranks before,” Jake said. “Had Jenkins peeing himself one time.” A wistful smirk refused to fade from his lips.

  “I guess I could conjure something without permission?” Harris said.

  “Don’t ask me,” Marian replied. “I’m your manager, so that would kinda defeat the purpose.”

  “Xop, do you have any friends or family you’d like to see?”

  “Yeah. Xim!” Xop did an adorable aerial pirouette.

  “Okay.”

  Harris drew the necessary ancient runes in the air with his wand. “Xim, I call you into this world.”

  A popping sound filled the room and a spitting image of Xop appeared in front of Harris’s face.

  “Xim!”

  “Xop!”

  The two cuddly creatures embraced midair.

  “Four out of five.”

  “You’ve been gone a long time,” Xim said.

  “I’m helping.”

  “Oh, good. But I miss you.”

  “I miss you, too. I’ll be back soon, though.”

  “Okay.”

  They had all of the cute qualities of two-year-olds, with none of the negatives.

  “Uh. . . Marian,” Harris said. “Could you help me send Xim back? I seem to be having a little trouble with that part.”

  “Sure. No problem.”

  With swift hand movements and inaudible words, Marian made Xim disappear. As he vanished, he waved goodbye to everyone.

  “Well, Xop,” Harris said. “You’re the last one.”

  “I don’t want to do something bad.” His tiny shoulders drooped as he hovered.

  “Rules and policies don’t necessarily define good and bad,” Harris tried to explain. “There are times, like now, when the greater good outweighs some minor rule-breaking.”

  “Okay, Grindelwald,” Ana said.

  Harris liked this woman more and more all the time.

  “I mean, if saving Silvia from a horrible dragon requires us to break a tiny rule, it’s worth it, right?”

  “What tiny wule?”

  “You could take a picture with my phone,” Marian said. “As a manager, I’m allowed to have a phone on Site, but I am absolutely not allowed to take pictures with it. The rule is understandable, but it’s one we can break for the locker wraith, here. You’re not a Site employee, Xop, but you’d still be forbidden to take pictures on Site. Everyone is.”

  “Just take a picture?”

  “Yeah. That’s all.”

  “Maybe you could do a selfie with all of us in it?” Harris said, immediately feeling stupid.

  After much explaining, Xop was able to take the selfie with the group of humans in the background.

  Harris looked at it before handing the phone back to his boss. In the picture, Jake pretended to stick his tongue in Harris’s ear. Marian looked dignified. Harris hated his own smile. Xop looked confused. And Ana was stunning, flashing a peace sign and showing a half-smile that accentuated her dimple. Harris wanted to ask Marian to send the picture to his phone back at his apartment, but this didn’t seem like the appropriate time.

  “Five out of five,” the ghost voice said. “You have passed the second protection.”

  The protective bubble began to move, coalescing into a mass that hovered over the locker. The lights in the room began to flicker before cutting out. The mass had a faint grayish glow that was the only illumination in the room.

  The mass began to take another form; that of an unnerving child, a young girl, suspended in the air as if hanging from a noose. Her neck and limbs were twisted in unnatural directions. Her eyes were an eerie white, iris-less, with only black pupils at their centers. Her mouth was grotesque, and far too big for her face. Twisted teeth protruded past thin lips. Her pale skin hung off her as if it was rotting.

  “You have twenty seconds to leave this room or you will all die.” Her voice was even more unnerving than her appearance: undeniably childlike, but also pure evil.

  The apparition moved toward the group, slowly.

  Harris bolted for the door, Xop clinging to his back. Jake threw fists in the air. Ana was frozen in fear.

  “Come on!” Harris shouted. “Let’s go!”

  “Don’t leave the room!” Marian shouted back.

  “Why?” Harris had a hand on the doorknob.

  “Eddie can be ornery, but he wouldn’t actually hurt anybody.”

  “You’re sure?” Harris began to twist the knob as the horrible girl opened her mouth much farther than it should have been able to open.

  “Yes!”

  Through force of will, Harris managed to let go of the knob.

  The ghost barreled toward him, mouth open, exposing hideous malformed teeth.

  But then, just as it would have collided with his cowering form, it vanished. Remnants of glowing vapor rushed past Harris’s terrified face and dispersed around the door.

  “Welcome to Eddie’s locker,” the lo
cker ghost voice said cheerfully as the lights came back on.

  “What an absolute, total asshole,” Marian said. “I promise, I’m gonna go to whatever beach he’s lounging at and kick sand in his drink.” Her voice wasn’t angry.

  Harris, still shaken, made his way to the locker and tried the handle again. This time it opened.

  Piles of apparent junk filled every shelf of the locker. The top shelf, which seemed a bit more organized, contained several items labeled with sticky notes. One of them read:

  Inter-Dimensional Blade

  Don’t even think about touching the cutting edge

  It was attached to a jewel-encrusted dagger. A circle of emeralds was set into the golden handle just below the silver blade, which was inlaid with intricate gold filigree.

  “We’ve got it,” Harris said, carefully holding up the dagger to the group.

  “Nice,” Ana said.

  “So, we’re off to Valorous, then, to get the sword?” Jake was more rattled than Harris had ever seen him. It wasn’t much, but it was noticeable.

  “You should see what else he has in the locker first,” Marian said. “He’s bound to have all kinds of useful shit in there.”

  “Good idea.” Harris grabbed another item off the top shelf.

  It looked like a child’s magic eight-ball toy. The note attached said:

  Real Magic Eight-Ball

  Another item, a bright yellow necklace had a note that read:

  Amulet of Bullshit Detection

  Overtaxed around here

  Another sticky note seemed to float about on inch off the top shelf. When Harris reached to pick it up, his hand brushed what felt like fabric. This note said:

  Invisibility Cloak

  Must have been made by a race of Santa’s elves

  Way too small to wear

  Good for smuggling shit, though

  A ring sat atop another sticky note, which read:

  The Ring of Bureaucratic Wizardry

  Redundant around here

  To be destroyed ASAP

  Mordor?

  Harris’s heart skipped a beat when he looked behind the invisible cloak. A black binder clip, encrusted with dust, lay in the back corner of the locker. The note on it read:

  The Real Steve’s Binder Clip

  Replaced with a regular old binder clip in the vault

  1997

  Because fuck them

  Harris peeled off the sticky note, revealing a white label with black lettering that said, “STEVE’S.”

  Harris held the binder clip up to the group. “It says this is the actual Steve’s Binder Clip.”

  “What?” Ana was incredulous.

  “That’s what it says. He stole it from the Magical Artifacts Department and replaced it in their safe with a non-magical one.”

  Ana moved her wand over the clip. The wand glowed with a bright white light.

  “So we have everything we need, then.” Ana’s incredulity had turned to excitement.

  “Do we still need the sword?” Jake asked. “I mean, there was a prophecy.”

  “Prophecies are wrong a lot,” Marian chimed in.

  “We have to try,” Jake said after a thoughtful pause. “I feel like we might need it.”

  “Okay. So the Realm of Valorous first, then Titan,” Harris said, counting on two fingers. He grabbed the small invisibility cloak and stuffed it into his pocket.

  Marian had taken the inter-dimensional dagger and was turning it over in her hands, studying it.

  “This blade can only open a limited number of portals before it will need to be. . . magically recharged. I used to work in the Realm Travel Department. Come find me here and let me know if you have any trouble with it.”

  “How much trouble could we get in for doing this?” Harris said, eyes to the floor. “Just wondering.”

  “You could get fired. But A, we’ll try not to get caught by someone who cares. And B, if we do, I’ll defend you to the best of my abilities. I’ll say I authorized you to do this if I have to, but it might not make a difference. You still may be fired.”

  “Okay.”

  The idea terrified Harris, but he wouldn’t let it show. Between this and what had happened at the Magical Artifacts Department, he didn’t feel great about the prospects of keeping his job. But he couldn’t stop now. He had to keep trying to help.

  Quest for the Ring, Part Four

  Merlin

  Chris Miyazaki took the magical escalator back up to ground level in a listless haze. He was about to tell Pete he was ready to come back when a wisp of smoke caught his eye from just down the beach.

  On second thought, Chris felt like he needed a moment before going back and admitting defeat. Maybe a walk could help him process what had just happened and allow him to clear his mind. He set off over the grassy hills toward the smoke.

  Before long, Chris came upon a quaint little cottage overlooking the sea. It was made of moss-covered stone and built directly into the hillside. A small creek cascaded over the roof, meandered through the front garden, and emptied into the ocean. Sunflowers, tomatoes, watermelons, and strawberries grew in perfect rows in the garden. A small copse of birch trees stood on the far side of the house. Whoever lived in the cottage was a collector of birdhouses. Scattered throughout the garden, the grounds, and even attached to the roof were birdhouses of all colors and sizes. Many had busy birds darting in and out of them. The gentle sea breeze rustled the leaves of the trees and bent the column of smoke from the chimney.

  Through one of the many windows across the front of the cottage, Chris noticed someone stirring.

  An elderly man emerged with a smile. He had white hair, a long white beard, and round wire-rimmed glasses. He wore a dark blue button-up shirt, dark blue shorts, and sandals over white socks that were pulled up to his knees.

  “Welcome, Chris,” the old man said in a frail but friendly voice. “My name is Merlin. Would you like some tea?”

  “Hello. . . Merlin. How did you know my name?”

  “I read it.”

  “How is that possible?”

  “Oh, sorry. I forget that may seem strange to people when I first meet them. Don’t get a lot of visitors out here these days.” Merlin stroked his lengthy beard. “You see, I can see the future. Usually only a few minutes ahead, but if I really concentrate, I can prophecy with the best of them. Well, used to, anyway. Now I’d give my left acorn to turn the shit off. It’s a pain in the ass to try and live two lives at once. One now, and one five minutes from now.”

  “Oh.”

  “It’s okay. I have more cups than I know what to do with. Don’t even worry about it.”

  “Huh?”

  “Never mind. Let’s have that tea.”

  Chris followed Merlin into the cottage and sat down at a little table where a steaming kettle and two cups sat waiting. Merlin poured hot tea into the cups. Chris wasn’t much of a tea drinker, but he sipped it and smiled, unsure of what to say.

  “Thank you,” he finally went with.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Are you. . . the actual Merlin?”

  The old man patted his own chest and shoulders. “I think I am.”

  “Sorry.”

  “No. I know what you mean. And yes, I am the Merlin of your Earth myths, pretty much. You know how those things go.”

  “I don’t, really.”

  “Thirty-seven cents?”

  “What?” Chris tried to set his cup back on the table, but was too busy staring at Merlin in slack-jawed wonder to get it all the way onto the table. The cup fell and crashed onto the stone floor, spilling hot tea on his foot.

  “I’ll get you another,” Merlin said with a wink. “So what brings you to this neck of the woods? I mean, I already know, but I’m trying my best to stay i
n the present.”

  “I was searching for the Ring of Brocéliande.”

  “How’d ya like my shortcut?”

  “I didn’t take it.”

  “Why in the hell not?”

  “I. . .” Chris thought about telling the whole thing about Pete, his asshole coworker, but decided against it. “I didn’t know about it until I was all the way through.”

  “That is positively amazing, my dear boy.” Merlin clapped his hands and shook his head. “Do you know how long it’s been since someone actually made it through the Three Fears?”

  “How long?”

  “Never. No one has ever done it. Well, besides me.”

  “Really?” Chris felt an unexpected warm pride in his chest.

  “Did you see all the skeletons down there?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I figured I’d make things a little easier on future would-be treasure hunters by installing that shortcut. But you made it. Bravo.” He clapped a few more times.

  “Do you know anything about the ring? Like where it is now?”

  Merlin held up his hand, revealing a ridiculously gaudy, bejeweled ring. “You mean this ring?”

  “That’s it?” Chris felt his pulse speed up.

  “Yeah. Pretty useless as far as I can tell, though.”

  “It has the power to bind dragons. That’s what the top guys at the Site say, anyway.”

  “Oh, yes. The Site. It has quite a reputation in the multiverse. No offense, but I’m surprised someone from there was able to even row the boat, let alone conquer the Three Fears.”

  “So you really think it’s useless?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I’m old and I don’t care as much anymore, plus I have this whole future-sight thing messing with me. It very well may have the power you spoke of.” He stroked his beard, again, amused. “You got a dragon problem back at the Site, eh?”

  “Yeah. They conjured one in hopes to use it for our military.”

  “Brilliant.” Merlin sipped his tea. “Well, if they’ve produced someone like you, maybe there’s still hope for them yet.”

  “I don’t know about that.”

  “I knew Arthur, and Lancelot, and a whole bunch of other extraordinary mortals. I may be old, but I still fancy myself a good judge of character. And you, Mr. Miyazaki, you are something special.”