The Leira Chronicles- The Complete Austin Series

by Martha Carr

  Leira looked around at the destruction started by the theft of a necklace. She held out her arm and opened her hand.

  “This rightfully belongs to you and at long last I’m grateful to be able to finally give it back to you. Prince Rolim’s necklace.”

  The queen smiled softly and carefully picked up the necklace slowly bringing it to her chest, feeling the energy from her son, once again. “Thank you, for everything.”

  “I took on your case and said I would solve it.” Leira gave a crooked smile. “Now, it’s done.” She hobbled toward her mother and grandmother, wincing with each step, determined to look over the side, afraid of what she would see. Please be alright.

  Scrambling up the side was the five-inch troll, rushing back to her side. Leira bent down, crying out in pain and scooped up the troll, putting him back on her shoulder. “Yumfuck!”

  “Show me where Hagan is. Did he…”

  The troll pointed at Hagan reading a Wizard his rights, his face beet red and a burn mark that parted his hair right down the middle. Alan Cohen was sitting on a rock as Gail made him a makeshift sling. He looked up and waved to Leira as the darkness finally came over her and she fell backward against the rock, hitting her head.

  Leira sat up in her hospital bed, her leg in a cast as Hagan told the story again to anyone in the room who would listen. “Most amazing thing I ever saw!”

  Eireka smiled and brushed the hair off Leira’s forehead. “Correk will be back soon enough. It was the right thing to do, sending him home to Oriceran. He needed help that doctors here can’t give him. Magical help. He came close to not making it.”

  “It’s already been a week. I miss the sound of him eating Cheetos.”

  Eireka smiled and kissed the top of her daughter’s head. “Focus on getting better. You all have a lot of adventures left. The general has already checked on you a few times. I think he’s trying to be polite but is itching to send you somewhere. He wouldn’t tell me.”

  “Who are those flowers from?”

  Eireka pulled out the card. “Alan Cohen and the team. Hmmmm.”

  “Still not a good time, Mom.” Leira threw a plastic spoon in Hagan’s direction to get his attention. “Aren’t you supposed to be at an anniversary dinner with Rose?”

  “Yeah, sure, I gotta go. Why do you think I’m in this monkey suit? I have the best bride ever. She insisted I come see you first and she’s meeting me at the restaurant. Love that woman. How she puts up with all of me, I don’t know. Alright, I’m outta here. I’ll stop by tomorrow. Maybe this time I’ll bring you doughnuts. Tell you the rest of what you missed. The memorial they had at the Jackalope for Larry was very moving. They said they’d do it again when you’re up to it so you can say your goodbyes too. Oh, and I can tell you about Lois. Geez, that lady! There were some good skirmishes down below. Wands slicing through the air!” Hagan was still talking as he wandered out of the room.

  Leira smiled a crooked smile as she watched him go. I think I can. She shut her eyes and rested her head back against the pillow, taking a deep breath, centering herself as the magic crept inside of her, flowing out as she set an intention.

  Hagan was surprised when every light he got to was green and a parking space opened up just in front of the restaurant. A man with a pushcart rolled past Hagan on his way inside with the last few roses for sale.

  Rose was already waiting at the table, smiling at Hagan as he came in holding the roses.

  “Wow, the best table. Must have taken one look at my beautiful bride and put you right here, front and center. Good thing I wasn’t here yet!”

  Rose laughed and took the flowers. “They gave us champagne! Can you believe it?”

  “Your favorite, too. How did we ever get so lucky?”

  “Must be magic,” said Rose. “Happy twenty-five years of playing with you. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  FINIS

  Author Notes - Martha Carr

  Written September 26, 2017

  Here we are at the fourth book, the fifth title (remember that Book Zero…) and life is already changing for me. That lifelong dream keeps unfolding and I get to interact with fans on a daily basis. We share stories about children and grandchildren with each other, triumphs over adversity, dreams we’re still working on – and a lot of selfies with troll mugs.

  I keep finding myself thinking about 2009 when the Great Recession was in full swing and being a newspaper journalist was going the way of the dinosaur. (And that was my backup profession). I was on an assignment ghost writing a memoir for a man who had been in South Africa’s version of the Navy Seals and at one time, owned diamond mines in Africa.

  I was staying in a local Hampton Inn in upstate New York, spending my days following him around, asking copious questions, learning his speech pattern and weaving together his story. At one point, I found myself sky diving with him, and then there was the moment I was waving at James Gandolfini. It was a very high end neighborhood.

  But in that same point in time I had reduced what I owned down to almost nothing in order to start over. The recession had taken its toll by then and I was making ends meet one day at a time.

  There was this moment after a long day of work and I was in the elevator in the motel that I looked down at the room key and rental car key and realized these were the only keys I had in the world. At that particular moment, for the first time in my life, I had no fixed address. There was even a weird moment when my iPhone stopped working and the thought occurred to me that without it no one could find me.

  Strangely, I was okay and even felt a little liberated from taking care of things for a little while. The offspring was grown and in another state, fortunately doing fine and I didn’t have a dog. There was no one to answer to and nothing to go check on. It was as if the world slowed down just a little and the choices were all wide open.

  Fast-forward eight years and here I am in my own home filled with furniture again and the good dog, Lois writing books about magic in Austin, Texas and a swearing troll. That same feeling keeps coming back to me lately. A kind of freedom and a world full of options.

  The last time was from stripping away everything and getting down to the essentials that could fit in a suitcase, living in the present moment. This time, it’s from watching my dreams take off and seeing it’s not a fluke, not temporary. This is here to stay. Kind of like having a handful of keys and I’m just finding out what they’re going to unlock. Big THANK YOU to everyone who’s on this ride with me – that’s all of you fans! Just like Leira is learning – I’ve come to see over the past eight years the sweetest part of this whole ride are the people who are on it with me and you guys are really showing up.

  By the way – Magic Mike reminded me to say – there was a two-star review from someone perturbed about the ‘f-bombs’ in the series who said they were returning the book in protest… That has inspired me to double-down on them in this one in their honor.

  Aloha everyone!

  Author Notes - Michael Anderle

  September 26, 2017

  First, let me say ‘THANK YOU’ so much for not only reading the story, but reading these author notes in the back as well!

  Martha called me the other night when she was “words complete” for this book. For us, words complete is when your story is done, and you just have editing passes to do.

  She told me how writing this book had been more difficult due to both wrapping up the threads to complete this part of Leira’s arc, and lay the groundwork for our next four books.

  Next four books.

  As many of you know, I come from a whale reading background. That term – whale reader – is something I coined a couple of years ago when I focused on other readers like myself. Readers who read at least fifty books a year.

  You know, at least one book a week, and you get two weeks off? Occasionally, I would go through four or five books from Friday night to Sunday night… Or Monday morning, early.

  Here at LMBPN Publishing, we
focus on one major 12 book arc. We break these twelve books down into three arcs of four books each.

  If we fail to hit the mark with a series, we know we can wrap it up in four books. If one of our collaborators has something else they need to do, then they (and we) need to be able to conclude the series.

  Now, having spoken about the twelve book arcs as my preference, it can be a negative to do longer series from a financial standpoint.

  Many readers will try a new book 01, but the longer the series, the more hesitance new readers have to start with the series.

  Books, 01,02 or 03 come out? No problem. Book 09, 12 or 15 comes out? That’s a problem. Readers are already feeling fatigue to complete a series before they even get started.

  Plus, it’s a lot easier to plan out a trilogy and write it (without screwing up) than pretty much anything past somewhere between five and eight books. I have received a LOT of comments about how surprised readers have been that The Kurtherian Gambit, for example, is still awesome and they are just on book nine of the series.

  Here, Martha has been working to complete the first arc of the Leira Chronicles. We designed three major arcs, each of four books, to set the Oriceran Universe and create the machinations of the political and business spheres within the universe for our collaborators to understand what is going on, and how they can play inside it.

  Going back to Martha’s call to me, she was discussing wanting to lay out the core ideas of this quadrilogy (4 books, right?) and how the larger world was reacting to what Leira happens to be in the center of at the moment.

  So, I suppose what I’m trying to express as we go from book 04 to book 05 is that we have come to the end of our first arc for Leira, Hagan, Yumfuck, Corrik and the rest of our characters. We have a minimum of eight more books planned out.

  If you keep doing what you have been doing (loving the books, sharing with your friends, and buying Yumfuck mugs and basically telling others to stuff it, he’s a Troll what are you expecting him to say then we will continue writing these stories about a family.

  It might not be the kind of family that we recognize with a mom, dad, two point three kids and a dog.

  But, this family has a troll.

  I think that about trumps everything else we can say, right?

  Because, in the end, they care about each other and will die for each other… You keep loving, we will keep writing.

  The crazy shit that we have been able to do is because of YOU.

  And yes, I’m happy the lady returned our book for the language. I’m also happy she lives in a country that allows my favorite troll to work his damned hardest to open the fridge, and finally…finally get it open to suffer having a big-ass boot close it and then looks up at the elf who towers over him and yells…

  “MOTHERFUCKER!”

  Ad Aeternitatem,

  Michael Anderle

  Creating crazy-ass characters since 2015

  Dealing In Magic

  Leira Chronicles Book Five

  Chapter One

  Ossonia stood at the foot of Correk’s bed watching him sleep. She tucked a long strand of hair behind her slender, pointed ear brushing a tear off her cheek. A worried expression floated across her face as she fingered the edge of the soft, moss green cotton throw covering him. “You almost died,” she whispered, her throat tight. She was doing her best not to wake him. The walls and ceiling of Correk’s room at the top of the castle were all visible, darkening the room. A spell was cast when Correk first got home to keep them visible and darken the windows. Everything but the window at the very top. His favorite.

  Ossonia looked up at the glass cupola in time to see a carrier pigeon fly overhead carrying an engraved envelope. The first postal run of the morning was underway. An ordinary day. The morning sunlight was visible through the window but the spell made sure it didn’t stream into the room.

  She had been making the journey up a series of staircases for months, checking on him. A series of altrea extendia as she took every step hoping that was the day he would open his eyes. He still didn’t know she was ever there.

  She was there when they carried him up from the Dark Forest the day he was brought home from the battlefield. The Gnomes were carrying him on a stretcher not saying a word. Perrom pushed everyone aside and gently took Correk into his arms, carrying him up to the castle. Correk didn’t even stir.

  Ossonia felt her heart beating harder as she clutched the side of her pale-yellow gown, silently watching Perrom whispering a spell as he carried his best friend. Correk was limp and his normally pale skin was ashen.

  Queen Saria sent in the most learned Light Elves who had been practicing the art of healing for hundreds of years. All they could do was make him comfortable and make sure the wounds healed properly. Time was having to do the rest of it.

  Over the next few months Ossonia found her way to Correk’s room and stood by his bed. She took to whispering one-sided conversations with Correk telling him everything she had wanted to say to him all the years she had known him but never once took the chance and said anything. “There’s time,” she whispered. “That’s what I always told myself. There’s time.” She swallowed hard, licking her lips. “Until there almost wasn’t.” She sat down gently on the edge of the bed.

  “The prophets are holding together by a thread. There are whispers everywhere that they knew all along about Rhazdon. Some think she’s hiding out in the Dark Market but Perrom said there’s no sign of her. I see him standing on the edge of the forest watching the castle. He won’t come in. Won’t tell me why. He keeps a lot of secrets, even for a Wood Elf.”

  Ossonia looked around the room, letting out a deep sigh. “A woman from Earth came to see you. Someone named Mara. I think she’s related to that detective. The king spoke to her and said you were getting better…” She looked at his sleeping face and brushed her fingers against his cheek. “He sent her home or at least he tried to. Stubborn woman. Must be the human part of her. I saw her heading toward the Dark Market.” She stood up and smoothed out the front of her dress. “I have to get going but I’ll be back. You know, if you would wake up I could stop coming back so often and get a few other things done.”

  “Leira…” Correk’s eyelids fluttered.

  Ossonia stood perfectly still, holding her breath.

  “Leira…” He struggled to lift his hand, a fiery symbol drifting across the back of his hand and fading away. Ossonia read the brief symbol and squeezed her eyes shut. He was still trying to change the direction of a fireball away from Leira. That’s what almost killed you. You were saving Leira.

  It wasn’t the first time she saw the symbols flitter across his skin. “The human family means a lot to you, don’t they,” she whispered. “You have family here too, Correk. You were supposed to be on a mission. A temporary mission.” She was doing her best to let it go. Just be grateful.

  She turned to go and head back to the post office.

  “Is she alive?” His voice was a rasp and sounded weak.

  Ossonia started, whipping around, her hand pressed against her stomach. Correk was blinking his eyes, trying to raise himself up on an elbow. He cleared his throat, coughing. “Is she… is she alive?”

  Ossonia did her best to give a small smile. Joy and pain filled her chest. His first thought was of Earth. “Yes, she’s alive. Leira is alive. You saved her.” She walked closer to him and took his hand.

  “Ossonia, you’re here… Am I alive?” He gave a crooked smile and let out a cough.

  Ossonia made herself smile, squeezing his hand. “That has been an open-ended question. There’s a rumor that there’s a pool going on among the Willen about whether you’d live or die. Odds are in your favor by a slim margin.”

  “What side did you take?” He let out a laugh that ended in another cough as he let go of her hand.

  She gave a shake to her head, her hair cascading across her shoulder. “I knew you’d make it,” she lied. “Easy money.”

  He laid his he
ad back down against the pillow, shutting his eyes. “Ugh, everything aches. How long have I been out?”

  Ossonia hesitated. “Three months,” she said, gently.

  His eyes sprang back open and he tried to sit up. “Three months? What? That’s impossible! I have to go. I have to go back!” He did his best to sit up, failing and trying again, letting out a painful grunt. Ossonia gently pushed him back down. “There’s time.” She bit her lip, blinking back tears.

  “I have to go back. They need me there. Three months? Didn’t anyone try a spell?” He finally gave in and laid back, grimacing from the pain.

  “Every spell with every artifact. It helped but only to make sure you were healing. Nothing was able to wake you up. It seems patience was going to insist on having its way.” And grief… and love… “The Gnomes in the library even dug out a few dusty books looking for the old spells. They have never let anyone even see those books, much less bring out a spell. You must matter to them a lot.”

  “Remarkable, considering. I need to get back. Too much time has passed already.”

  “You’re awake. The hardest part is over. Give it at least a few more days. A spell to speed up getting you moving should help now that you’re awake.”

  Correk let out a long groan. “Another day or two.”

  “That’s less than a few.” Ossonia smiled. “I’ll help you. You’ll be back on Earth in no time.” She pressed her lips together, determined not to say anything else. I can do this for you. I can let you go… for now. Our story isn’t finished. Go. Do what you have to do. I will go on from here and we will see.

  “Alright then, a few more days.” Correk rubbed his face with his hands. “For an Elf who’s been asleep for three months I’m awfully tired.”