Forgotten Magic (Magic Underground Anthologies Book 3)

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Forgotten Magic (Magic Underground Anthologies Book 3) Page 6

by Melinda Kucsera


  So, the same terms that were used in Heliodoro’s time are still in use. My patra is my valknut, it’s the object my soul is bound with. I don’t remember much of my death other than briefly waking up during the sambadda ritual, to be stabbed again in the gut on a ritual table, then I passed out from the pain. When I came to, I was dead.

  “If you’re stupid enough to open that box again, Theo, take it into the warded room down the hallway to spare the rest of us a headache.” Maria glared at the gawky stick figure with frizzy brown hair and strange pieces of clear crystal-like disks attached to hooked arms that held them over his eyes by holding onto his ears.

  “I would need to take both pendants then; I want to see how closely matched the Damascus steel is to see if it’s the same manufacturer.”

  “You wouldn’t be able to handle the screams long enough to assemble the pieces, much less have the sanity to compare the two. We will have to wait for someone who psy-null for that. I found one, the woman who co-led the team that discovered the lost settlement and shrine where the artifacts were unearthed. Her partner is an untrained sensitive, and something set him off at the end of our meeting. I don’t think we will be able to pull either of them into the fold.”

  “Maybe if you weren’t such a snake you wouldn’t have set the young man off,” a deep voice reverberated as it closed the distance between the owner and the crew at the tables. “Someone who has the ability to sense metaphysical energy, no matter how weak, is a rare talent and would have been quite useful, but you blew it.”

  “Hello, Michael,” Maria’s voice was icy as she glared at the stout, balding man who strode through the rows of shelves. His doughy face jiggled with every stride and his rust-colored aura ground around him like oats being milled. This “Michael” had a sticky and congealed mud brown spot in his aura at the center and right of his upper stomach, below the ribs, a sign I had seen before. The view of that in my Odin’s sight would have made my heart, if I was alive, clench in guilt over the memory of what I did, the death I caused, the pain I caused, all because I was angry and determined to have my revenge. I chose to hurt Heliodoro and his family, to take that vengeful lust upon those who had nothing to do with my loss, my pain, and who in the end genuinely wished to help me.

  I wrapped my spirit tighter, buried the grief and guilt, and armored myself. I’m on a battlefield. I need to be smart. I can’t fight with my axes or fists; I have to fight with my wits and make sure I’m fighting the right people for the right reasons. I failed in the past; I will not make the same mistakes in the future.

  I directed my Odin’s sight back at Michael. Maria and Michael were trading blows with words with a calm efficiency while I had lost myself in my own grief. I inspected Michael closer and noticed he had other congealed spots of mud in his rusty aura, one over the left side of his chest and one where the mud had streaks of black at the bottom of his abdomen. He had a bright lavender blossom of energy on his forehead, a gentle blue swirl at his throat, along with a mini sun in his upper stomach. I don’t know what the spots meant. I was never taught that when I was under Heliodoro’s tutelage, and I mentally kicked myself for never pressing the issue when I had the chance.

  The group that had been studying the objects quietly crept away and looked anywhere but at their arguing leaders. None of them seemed surprised at the exchange, and Theo almost openly glared at Maria and Michael from behind his thick crystal eye disks.

  “Please tell me that this adventure hasn’t been a total failure,” Michael sneered. “The council of elders isn’t happy with your performance record, Maria.”

  “If I could report to them directly instead of through the man who is still angry at me for refusing his grody advances almost two decades ago, there wouldn’t be a problem,” Maria rolled her eyes. “You taint everything of mine you give them. And yes, I have answers, which have led to more questions regarding some of the items.”

  “Your inability to perform your duties have led to your stagnation,” Michael openly looked Maria up and down. “And your performance has been lackluster. No one to blame but yourself! Now, what have those on your team who actually have brain cells found?”

  I didn’t like or trust Maria, but I wanted to punch Michael in his jiggly, jowly face on her behalf. When I was alive, women as well as men of the community were to be treated well, and there were consequences if someone pushed their interest and the other person wasn’t receptive. Even the slaves that were brought back from our viking trips were treated with more respect than Michael offered Maria, and it made my blood boil.

  “The archaeologists that I retrieved the items from stumbled on Martillo and Efi Delgado’s lost settlement. I have a team at the site now, thoroughly evaluating it. The original team found the first shrine with these patras, and our team found a second cache in a nearby cave. Almost all of these items are noted in the log from when they left Spain except the two lead boxes and their contents. One has an intact Damascus steel valknut, the other a broken one. The designs of both boxes look to have been from Patriarch Heliodoro’s time, but we can’t find any records from Martillo and Efi’s logs or manifests of the boxes or valknuts. We don’t know if the items were planted on their ship without their knowledge or if the items were stolen from the Spanish vaults before the two left for the New World.”

  “You found out all of the easy, unimportant information, but still haven’t found the important details?” Michael criticized.

  “I wasn’t done.” Maria crossed her arms over her chest and straightened her shoulders. “Our team found the books that Martillo and Efi brought over, as well as both men’s journals in the second cache. Some sort of tragedy occurred, we aren’t sure if it was the Mayans or a mutiny, Martillo doesn’t say. He and Efi glossed over many things, starting months before their voyage. I suspect it had something to do with these valknuts. We can’t track which books the two read, only which vaults they had access to. For some reason, they had access to all of the vaults.”

  “Some reason?” Michael snorted. “Or you just haven’t found the reason?”

  “From what’s been digitized, haven’t found a reason. The records are incomplete, and I sent you three requests for copies of the original texts.”

  “You have access to all of them, all of the texts are in our computer systems. We have rooms full of servers to hold the information!”

  “The texts are only partially digitized,” Maria argued. “Their main points are, but they aren’t digitized completely. That’s why I need the copies!”

  “I’ll let the council of elders know of your inability to research and your need for a crutch,” Michael smiled widely at Maria’s burning red face. Her aura churned and condensed on her face and around her hands that were balled into fists at her sides as she radiated anger.

  “You have until tomorrow morning to study and document the patras, tomorrow they will be transported by my team to the nearest vault for safekeeping and to see what you are hiding or can’t figure out.”

  “Tomorrow morning?! I was supposed to have a full month with them!” Maria’s voice almost squeaked. She struggled to keep her anger in check and was failing badly.

  “Your incompetence has disappointed the council and they want answers sooner rather than later, so they approved my request to take over the research and the Central American team,” Michael gloated. “I got a call from the team right before I came here, it was supposed to be for you, but I happened to be by the phone. They say that Martillo named the settlement Libertad. The shrine was for Efi, who is buried under the floor stones by the way. My team has copies of the books you requested, and they suspect that Efi was diabetic. When he overexerted himself while helping to put out the fire that consumed the settlement, he had what was most likely a low blood sugar related seizure which resulted in him striking his head on a rock.

  “Oh, and Libertad was burned down by a strange fire, and Martillo was angry at himself for ‘wanting to right a wrong,’ but goes on to say how he sho
uld have heeded the warning of his elders because ‘he really is a monster.’”

  Maria shook with rage. Even her team, who watched the entire exchange, glared at Michael as he sauntered away laughing.

  “This patra has real power to it,” Michael said with a wide grin. “Have you evaluated what the abilities are yet?”

  “We are still having difficulty finding records of the twin valknuts. Damascus steel was widely used, Vikings traveled extensively, and without any points of reference we are hitting dead ends.”

  “Not good enough. I want to know more! We can’t utilize the full abilities of the patra without more information.”

  “I-I’m sorry, sir,” the pretty blonde woman who had been studying my valknut stammered. “I will start cross-referencing all references of Damascus steel in our family archives and in the Golden Cup archives immediately.”

  “Good! And be quick about it!” Michael commanded. “Isn’t this exactly what that newfangled ‘’world wide web’ is for?”

  “Yes it is sir, but while the world wide web has been available for a few years now, it’s taken that time to develop the proper programs to be able to store and transfer information, server banks to store it, and teams of people to input the information into the data banks. The family’s data banks are scattered because items have been inputted on a demand basis instead of in an organized, chronological way. The Golden Cup Society’s data banks have been focused on the oldest, most damaged records first. There are huge gaps in what’s available.”

  “Gah! Just hurry up! And I’m taking the patra with me. Note it wherever you need to.”

  I reeled in my Odin’s sight as Michael’s plump hand gripped my pendant. He took a deep breath in, released it slowly, then pulled my energy in as he breathed deeply. It was a familiar, yet unpleasant sensation to me. I felt my essence pulled away from me, the raw power of my spirit drawn out of me through my valknut and into this obnoxious man’s body.

  “Is… That a good idea?” The girl questioned. She wrapped one arm around a “clipboard” and held her other hand up hesitantly to try to stop him.

  “I’m the master here,” Michael roared. “How dare you question me!”

  “I-I’m sorry sir. Um, since you have sampled the patra, could you tell me what your experience is?”

  “This is the second time I have sampled the patra, and both times I felt a sense of strength, vitality, the edges of my aura strengthening, and the edges expanding. My metaphysical presence increases overall after I have pulled from this patra, and I feel healthier.”

  “Excellent, sir. I have noted all of the other items retrieved from the Libertad site, and I have a few ideas that would help the input of information into the electronic data banks. I will work up an outline and send it, in your name, to both councils.”

  “Good, I will forgive your inabilities this time,” Michael nodded his head at the woman, but then gave her a hard glare. “Do not disappoint me again!”

  “N-no, sir. I won’t, sir,” the woman, familiar with the obnoxious man’s ways, seemed to know that was him dismissing her, so she sat down and started tapping on the rune board attached to the magical box.

  As much as I wanted to investigate all of these new things, I knew patience was needed. What is the current purpose of the Delgado family? I needed to know.

  Michael didn’t seem to be one for adornments and the garment style wasn’t advantageous for hiding items worn, so he carried my valknut in his pocket inside the chest of his shirt-like cloak that didn’t have a hood. The lack of names for items frustrated me.

  Every morning he had the strangest ritual. He would take an assortment of small capsules and prick a finger. This was usually followed by angry words and using what looks like a sewing needle attached to a tube to stab himself in the stomach. He would repeat the stabbing parts of the ritual multiple times a day. It was all very bizarre, I didn’t know what to make of it, and he never talked about his secret ritual to anyone.

  He was a very busy man, always on the go from one gathering to another. Michael enjoyed having his gatherings with other important people at restaurants and almost exclusively invited other men. They all dressed very similarly, with pants cut straight through the leg, high-quality leather shoes, an undershirt that buttoned up the front, and the strange cloaks that weren’t cloaks. I finally learned that they were called “jackets” after one man almost forgot his at a restaurant.

  Even the cities had the strangest names. Michael was at the “DC” Delgado Family Office and oversaw both his “company” that invests and the family’s interests. What his company invests, I’m not sure.

  The family offices seemed to oversee research on items from the past and input the tomes of information that they and the Golden Cup Society had kept over the years. There was no evidence that the family, at least this part of it, continued the spirit thieving practices that their patriarch was guilty of.

  I hate hiding like this, not being involved. I don’t trust Michael in the least, and if I exposed myself, I would probably be locked away again. I’ve been labeled as dangerous and unpredictable by the Delgado family, my anger and lust for revenge made sure of that.

  I can’t be locked away again. I can’t face the darkness again. I need to find a way to right my wrongs and make Torhild whole again, and the only people that might know how are the Delgado family.

  I will suffer through whatever I have to, even if it means tolerating this disgusting man and hiding so I can have the chance to be with my Torhild again. Even if it is only as ghosts instead of the halls of Valhalla.

  I injured, then killed, Heliodoro for killing me and denying me Valhalla. That hadn’t fulfilled my lust for revenge, so when two young men snuck me out of the vaults where the family planned to keep me locked away forever, I deceived the two men, who I later found out truly intended on helping me and Torhild. I was responsible for numerous deaths of the ship’s crew and Efi, so in response to my wrongly executed revenge, Martillo shattered Torhild’s valknut.

  The guilt was still a knife in my spirit that was slowly being twisted.

  These are the things that obsessively repeated through my mind, as I tolerated Michael’s presence. I paid attention to what he and others said, learned this new “English” language, and learned more about the times I was in.

  “I am attending a multi seminar conference for the next three days in Philadelphia,” Michael told the woman behind the desk. “Here are the numbers where I can be reached in case of emergency, the address of the hotel, and other information.”

  “Thank you, sir, I will make sure that shy of someone important dying or a major breakthrough on one of the research projects, you will not be disturbed.” The woman seemed confident, well put together, and respected by all around her. Her pale red hair made my heartache. It was darker than Torhild’s hair, but the shade seemed to be rare.

  “Good, thank you, Nancy.” Even Michael seemed to respect this woman, which was exceedingly rare for him. “I don’t know what I would do without you. Oh, if the Santiago Corporation calls, politely tell them where they can shove their offer.”

  “I will.” Nancy’s smile was predatory. I didn’t have the best feeling about her, and I was sure there was a reason she and Michael got along so well.

  What really fascinated me were the sky ships. I first was on one when Steph and Jason used one to go from the shrine and settlement site to their office, and I was immediately enthralled. The sails were sturdy and rigid, with a pair that came out of the sides and the very end of the sky ship, with tiny portholes along the length and larger ones at the front. The hull was a long tube, sleek and shiny, with shockingly small wheels that came out from the bottom.

  From the conversations overheard, these sky ships were called “airplanes.” What a dull name for such an incredible creation.

  Stuck in Michael’s pocket, I had to rely mostly on my Odin’s site and couldn’t get the fullest experience of the flight. My spirit yearned to fly high
through the sky like Thor in his goat-pulled chariot.

  When we landed Michael was immediately aggravated by how crowded it was at the “airport.” Airport! A port for airships! That is a name I can, as I’ve heard Steph say, get behind.

  “We are sorry for the wait, Mr. Delgado,” said the man behind a counter. He wore a green and black button-up shirt and nervously fiddled his fingers together under Michael’s irate stare. “There is your conference this weekend, but there is also a reenactment fair this weekend just outside of Philadelphia.”

  “I want my car that I reserved three weeks ago, and I want it now!” Michael yelled at the poor, cowering man. Michael’s rust-red aura expanded toward the man and smothered the other man’s pale lavender aura. It was obvious that the poor man didn’t have any sort of protection against the spiritual assault and probably didn’t understand why he was so terrified of the angry man in front of him.

  “Of course, Mr. Delgado. As soon as we have an—”

  “What part of now do you fail to understand!”

  The man behind the counter grabbed at the tan distance communication device, dropped the connected ear and mouthpiece, but grabbed the cord that attached it to the base before the ear and mouthpiece fell on the floor.

  “Yes, hello, I need a car brought up for Mr. Delgado, he has a— I know, there are four in line before him, but he has to have his vehicle— just bring up the ‘97 Chevy Lumina he reserved, now! Um, please.”

 

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