Myths and Magic: An Epic Fantasy and Speculative Fiction Boxed Set

by K.N. Lee

  The teakettle screeched from within the kitchen, effectively shredding the image in my head. I did have a moment of happiness, and though my body ached, I finally reached a certain level of calm. I went into the kitchen and pulled the kettle from the heat. I grabbed a mug from the cabinet above the sink and filled it with the hot tea. I closed my eyes and let the heat from the liquid tickle my nose as I blew on it to cool it before taking a sip. It warmed my body, and helped to relax my mind a bit more, and I sighed leaning back against the counter.

  Hanging on the wall across from me was an old miniature grandfather clock, announcing that my time was up. With that announcement came the blow of all the nerves and anxiety I had worked so hard to forget returning to me. They effectively knocked the air out of my lungs. It was time to get ready, now I was running late. I thought I was on track, but at some point, time had slipped away. I longed for a warm bath to help me relax more, but there was only time for a quick shower. The party started at eight and it was an hours’ drive to Jazz’ new condo in downtown Chicago and I planned to get there early. It would make it that much easier to slip out when the rest of the crowd started to pour in.

  I drank the remaining hot tea from my cup, faster than I should have, farewell to my taste buds. I rinsed the cup, and put it away before putting the left over the tea in the refrigerator. I checked to make sure that everything was put away and turned to leave the room. From the corner of my eye I could still see the box sitting on the table, and for a moment I thought of taking it. Maybe it could help me make it through this night without completely embarrassing myself. I shrugged the idea off with the thought of what my mother would say if she knew what I was considering. Whatever it was would be punctuated by a look of complete disgust. Still I grabbed it, quickly of course to avoid contact. I would stash it in my nightstand, at least this way I wouldn’t have to see it every time I entered the kitchen. I wouldn’t take it; I repeated this to myself as I carried the box. I wouldn’t give in.

  Looking in the mirror after my shower, I wished I had chosen something else to wear. The clothes that used to hug my body now hung from my frame. I hadn’t realized how much weight I’d lost, yet another thing gone unnoticed. I pulled my hair up into a loose bun, allowing a few strands fall around my face. I hadn’t made much effort in that department. I tried briefly to pull a comb through it and when the first tooth snapped, I gave up on that idea. Well, it was better than my usual messy ponytail. So much for putting my best foot forward; I would just have to settle for mildly presentable. The point was to get this over with, not to win the award for best dressed, and besides, if there was one; Jazz would beat me to it anyway. That would be like competing in a race with one leg against Sanya Richards, God how I loved her. She was my idol, my inspiration for running until…well that no longer mattered.

  I tried my best to cover the flaws in my complexion with the foundation I’d found in the medicine cabinet. It was no use, my skin looked horrible, and the makeup was too old to do it any justice. It was a dry and blotchy, what frustration, the more I put on, the more I seemed to need. Considering the fact that the makeup was expired and not safe for any skin, especially skin that hadn’t been taken care of, I decided to go au-naturel. Yes, scary I know! When my cell phone rang, I was washing the makeup from my face; I went into my room to pick it up from the charger where I’d left it. No sense in checking the caller I.D., I already knew who it was.

  “Hey,” I sighed momentarily revisiting the list of lacking excuses, this was my chance to avoid a terrible disaster, but I couldn’t get a single apologetic syllable to cross my lips. I didn’t want to disappoint Jazz, not on her birthday. Hell, not any day.

  “I’m just checking to make sure you’re not trying to back out on me.” She sounded happy, genuinely excited to be able to see me again, and that helped ease my nerves, a little. At least there would be one person that was smiling at me out of love and not pity.

  “I just finished getting dressed and I will be leaving in a few minutes.” I smiled to myself. Despite the growing amount of nerves, I was looking forward to seeing her again. She was my best friend, my sister, my other half. We had always shared a bond that exceeded the levels of friendship and I missed that connection. That closeness to another human being, it was so important, too important to walk away from, again.

  “Good! I will see you soon; I have to finish getting ready over here. Can’t wait to see you, Lex,” she sounded distracted by something clamoring in the background. Whatever it was, it must have been significant because she started yelling in Spanish. A language she only used when she was either very happy or very irritated, and by all the frustrated grunts, I could tell she hadn’t suddenly become overwhelmed with glee.

  “Thanks Jazz, you too,” I hung up the phone laughing to myself at the mental image of the tirade she was on and the terrified looks of the workers. Jazz was a spitfire, one of those little women who could invoke fear in giants. One last glance in the mirror, ugh, and it was time to leave.

  I grabbed my purse and keys from the nightstand, threw a jacket over my arm, not that I would need it, and headed for my car. Once inside, I sat there, going over the directions to her place in my head, and taking deep calming breaths. It was unbelievable how hard this was turning out to be. The nervous tremors in my arms and hands were so bad that it took me three attempts just to get the key into the ignition. One more deep breath, a tight grip on the steering wheel, and I was off. Just get it over with.

  8

  The drive to her house had taken longer than expected. I had underestimated traffic. It seemed all of Chicago was headed to her party. I finally made it to the parking lot across from her building. She rented the whole thing to prevent partygoers from having to incur the inflated parking rates. Four bucks an hour, insane! Already overwhelmed, I forced myself not to turn the car around and drive away. A large, red, white, and black banner plastered to the building that read ‘Jazz’s 20th B-Day Bash’, even on a banner she refused to be called Jasmine.

  I had almost forgotten how big Jazz made the last bash I had attended. Always determined to have the best parties and events, every event she planned was always coordinated with a matching name, theme, and color scheme. Every year she tried to outdo the last one. There were lights, streamers, and red and white flowers lining the walk and curb in front of the building. There was even a red carpet that covered the walkway that lead from the curb to the door. No way for a girl to pretend she was unable to find the place, say if she were trying to avoid social suicide.

  I parked my car in the lot which was also decorated for the party with red and black flags all baring her initials. I ignored the line of cars waiting for the valet parking that she had apparently hired. I needed the extra time to prepare myself. I sat and stared at the flags which were classic Jazz, initials on the front and her profile outlined in black on the back. Ten minutes was enough procrastination. I hopped out of the car, double-checking to make sure the doors were locked, as if anyone would be tempted to steal my busted-up baby. There was a required guest book to sign which was manned by the ‘bouncer’, which was just her little cousin Mike who liked to work out a lot. I doubt he could have hurt anyone, who gave out rules of the party and directions to her apartment. It wasn’t that complicated, get in elevator, press 12, and follow the decorations to party. Duh.

  “Take the elevator to the top floor, and it’s the last door on your right,” he said as he checked my name off the list, not even glancing up from the clipboard. He was committed to his bouncer persona now, and if I hadn’t known who he was, I totally would have bought it. As I walked away I wondered how many people had followed his directions and headed to the top floor only to have to be told the party was on the twelfth floor!

  I stood in the elevator happy that I could catch an empty one, but being alone only helped make me even more nervous than I was before. I could hear the music before the doors even opened. I stepped off the elevator and followed the streamers, lights, and b
alloons; all in the same black and red color scheme, to the open double doors that led into her apartment. As I walked through the doorway my hands trembled. I gripped the strap of my purse tightly, and took another deep breath.

  “Oh. My God!” The words rang out from across the room. I looked up to see my friend smiling and waving at me. Jazz ran over to me and wrapped her arms around me, hugging me so tightly that I thought she would break a rib.

  “Hey Jazz,” I struggled to pull my head back far enough to see her face. I would have hugged her back had she not pinned my arms to my sides with her bear hug.

  She was short, I mean really, short, her head barely reached my shoulder. Her smile was wide and bright, and filled my heart with warmth just by looking at it. This was how I always felt around her. The only difference I could place was the color of her hair which was dyed to match the colors of the party. Her long locks, once blonde, were now a blazing mane of red that tickled my chin.

  “You have no idea how happy I am that you actually came! I feel like you were my little sister, and you ran away from home,” she kissed my cheek. “It’s so good to have you back.”

  “Thanks,” I sighed. She still referred to me as the younger sister, even though we were the same age, “I can’t honestly say that I was looking forward to this, but, now that I’m here, I’m glad I came… so far.” I was finally able to wiggle my arms free, just enough to wrap them around her curvy frame. The girl was vertically challenged, but she had a body to die for.

  Guilt rose from within me. Why? Well, possibly because I’d given up on myself, more times than I cared to count, but especially because of those last few days. There were other people in my life, maybe they were not blood, but they were my family. Had I wasted away alone, as I had hoped, decayed with time, my selfishness would have hurt them.

  She grabbed my hand and pulled me around the room, introducing me to new faces and reintroducing me to the ones I was supposed to remember from high school (most of them barely remembered my name, feel the love). After about twenty minutes of her dragging me from person to person, I assured her that I would be fine on my own and told her to go off and enjoy her party. She didn’t have to babysit me like I was some lost kid she’d found in the mall.

  “Are you sure? I really don’t mind, I’m just so happy you’re here.” She tried to encourage me, but it only made me feel worse.

  “Jazz, I’m okay. I think I can manage walking around and having the occasional small talk without you holding my hand,” I smiled at her, reassuring her that she wouldn’t find me in the fetal position on the bathroom floor. I was a big girl, I could handle myself.

  She nodded and with one more hug, reluctantly left my side. As she walked away, all of my comfort and confidence went with her. I stood there; frozen with everyone and everything around me moving at what seemed like hyper speed. I sunk into a corner with my back against the wall, and scanned the room with my eyes. There were so many people there; so many eyes. They all darted back and forth towards me. Even though I could barely hear over the music, I knew there was an influx of snickering and gossiping going on.

  I tried to tell myself that they weren’t talking about me, that I was the least important person at the party, and that it was paranoia getting to me. This night was all about Jazz, and that was the only reason everyone was here, not to gossip about me. I had almost gotten myself completely convinced when I overheard the group of girls next to me. A short, blonde standing to my left peered over her shoulder at me, she turned with the laugh of a horse, “Why did she even bother to come just to stand in the corner like some reject? Did she just escape from a mental clinic or something?”

  Maybe, she assumed she was so far away that I wouldn’t hear, or maybe she was just being a bitch. Whatever the reason was, it didn’t stop it from hurting. I felt like I had been kicked in the gut. I wanted to run out of there, wanted to hide, to get away. I wasn’t ready for this. Why did I let Jazz convince me to come? Of course, this was the perfect moment for my body to choose to betray me! I stood there, frozen, my eyes swelling with tears. My brain yelled commands that my limbs refused to follow. I took deep breaths pleading the tears not to spill over. I couldn’t cry now, not in front of these people. In the past, I would have walked up to her and told her off, using words too complex for her bottle-blonde head to comprehend, but now, I just wanted to curl up into a ball and disappear. Years in solitude will take the gumption right out of you.

  The warm affectionate crowd, the girls I once shared lunch, clothes, and stories of boys with, they were no more. The people I once knew were now cold, stuck up strangers, and I was no longer a part of their world. I begged my legs to move, but they still refused. My eyes scanned the crowd searching for Jazz’s smile. If I could find her face, it would help me regain enough composure to be able to walk out of this place before the waterworks began, but I couldn’t find her.

  It was dark and there were way too many people jammed into the room now. I had completely forgotten about my early escape strategy, now I felt trapped; chained to the wall with no way out. I skimmed each section of the apartment trying to find something to focus on, something to calm me down, but there was nothing.

  Panicked, my heart began to race, and my steady breathing turned into short gasps of air. This couldn’t be happening, not here. I continued to try to find something; anything to stop the tears; knowing I wouldn’t be able to hold them back much longer, and then I saw him.

  He was standing directly across from me; I’m not sure how I could have missed seeing him before. His stormy gray eyes were focused on mine. Everything else was still moving way too fast, but he was still. His glare was intimidating, yet inviting. I looked away, trying not to stare, to find something else to focus on, but even my eyes were disobeying me. He was like a magnet, and if my body had been functioning properly, it would have crossed the room to get to him. When I looked back, he was still staring at me, but I avoided making eye contact and instead turned my attention to cataloging his features, committing them to memory.

  He was tall at least six feet, maybe a few inches more. His hair thick and dark fell in waves that ended just below his shoulders. He wore black slacks, with a white fitted V-neck t-shirt. Winning the award for best dressed was clearly not a priority for him, and yet somehow, he was much more impressive than anyone else in the room.

  His skin was smooth, without a hint of any blemishes (yes, I noticed, I was making a constant comparison to my own blotchy complexion, hello, self-conscious). I doubted that he ever had any run-ins with the evil known as acne, even while going through puberty, one of those lucky souls. I looked at his face. In a word, perfect, well at least in my opinion. Strong jaw line, deep set eyes, thick brow; it all came together as if someone had drawn him, measuring each feature so it fit his face flawlessly. His lips were thin and pink, a nice contrast against his five o’clock shadow, which should have looked messy, but on him, it looked intentional and added to his appeal. He looked like something out of a magazine, a page I could not turn. Not that I wanted to.

  I noticed his breathing, the steady rise and fall of his chest and in moments my own calmed to match his. Every breath he took was another one for me. Nice and slow; even; steady. My eyes ran down his neck following the lines of his muscles to his chest and further still to the abs that teased me from beneath his thin white shirt.

  The obnoxious little blonde next to me tripped and I looked down to make sure she was okay, and I claimed a small victory for myself. After watching her get up and dust off her dress, I locked back on him again; he was still staring at me and our eyes reconnected. His lips quivered with words he wanted to say or was trying not to.

  I questioned if I had imagined it when I saw his hand slowly lift and hang in the air close to his body, as if he was reaching out to me. Like that super romantic moment in those Lifetime movies that was every girl's dream. I blinked a few times expecting the illusion to wipe away but it did not. He was still there, this handsome strange
r, hand outstretched to me, I could swear I felt his fingertips on my skin caressing me with a low heat. My physical self was frozen solid, but there was something inside of me that was trying to get to him. It was like he was taking control of me, and I would be lying if I said I wanted him to stop.

  The magnetic pull grew stronger, the affect not only touched my eyes but my entire body, every little bit of me was drawn to him. I wanted nothing more than to go to him, but my body had abandoned me. I was in an internal fight with the part of myself that had no name. I took a deep breath, imagining those breaths being strong enough to pull him to me, eliminating the need for my body to move.

  “Oh, I see you’ve noticed Lacal,” Jazz bounced up to my side smiling. “Yeah, he’s a bit of a loner, but he is great to look at, so no one complains.” She handed me a bottle of water.

  Her voice ejected me from my trance. I gasped, taking in a deep breath, my chest burned as if I hadn’t been breathing at all, as if I had been suffocating. My face surely told the story of my desire, but the tears had retreated, and were replaced by what felt like lava spreading over my entire body.

  “Thanks,” I grabbed the bottle of water from her, and turned to look at him again, I couldn’t resist. The pull was intoxicating, and I wanted more, but he was gone. I searched for him through the crowd and found nothing.

  “Girl, please don’t worry yourself over him.” Jazz interrupted my search. “That’s just how he is. He’s been coming around for months now, looking for someone, I think. He shows up from time to time like some spy, which of course is what most people have begun to call him. It is a bit of mystery. Each time, he pops in, makes little or no conversation, walks around, and then poof, he’s gone again. I’ve learned to ignore him, well after I enjoy the view a little bit.” She winked and laughed.