Broken Magic

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Broken Magic Page 2

by Catherine Vale

“Shit!” I bellowed, and my voice echoed, getting louder and louder, as if I was tumbling into a deep well. A glimmer of light twinkled at the bottom, but I didn’t appear to be getting closer to it. Above me was a filmy gray light, but it too, was far off in the distance. I was suspended in a freefall equidistant from two light sources, neither of which got closer to me. It was disorienting. I tried to use my magic to illuminate where I was, but nothing came from my fingers, not even a spark. The wind rushed by my body. That sensation of falling turned my stomach over and over until I cried out again.

  Then unexpectedly, I fell through the bottom of wherever this was. That bright light right below me, in an instant swallowed me whole, causing me to close my eyes. Screaming, I tumbled out onto the ground. I rolled a few times before coming to a jarring stop on my stomach, my head thumping against the ground. I lay there a moment, catching my breath. My fingers cleaved to the grass beneath me My eyes were still squeezed shut as I took stock of my body, checking for injuries from the fall. I didn’t detect any, right away, but I wouldn’t know for sure until I tried to move. I was grateful to be home again, even if the way through the portal hadn’t been as straightforward as I was used to.

  I opened my eyes slowly as I sat up, groaning against the blinding light after so much time in the dark. As soon as I could see clearly again, my stomach dropped. This wasn’t Earth. This wasn’t any world I’d ever seen before.

  Just where the hell was I?

  CHAPTER 2

  ~

  I SAT CROSS LEGGED IN the middle of a blood-red dirt path, unable to move. My mouth hung open as I drank in the strange, luscious scenery around me.

  This landscape was the complete opposite of the world I’d nearly just died in—every inch of it was bursting with vibrant, gorgeous color. The grass to either side of the crimson path was a deep, mossy green, and was so thick it resembled shag carpeting. Further off, manicured bushes that were each at least ten-feet high dotted the landscape. They were perfectly clipped into all kinds of decorative figures—hearts, geometrical shapes, different creatures—some of which I recognized, but most I didn’t. There were trees too. Their thin, bendy trunks ended in puffs of fluffy leaves that were clipped into odd shapes, just like the bushes. This world was one big topiary garden.

  In the far distance, a deep blue mountain range, capped with snow rose majestically from the ground. And, atop the highest peak perched a breathtakingly beautiful castle that shimmered in the sunlight. At the base of the mountain range, a lush, blue-green forest spread out like an ocean for miles in every direction. Like the castle, the teal canopy seemed to glisten in the sunshine. I looked up, staring directly into the sun without burning my eyes. It was much bigger than the sun back home, and so close it felt as if I could lift my hands and graze the surface of it with my fingers. Despite the closeness, it didn’t warm my skin at all. The sky around that blazing ball of sparkling light was deep cerulean. There wasn’t a single cloud above my head, just that stunning true blue, but further away, on the horizon, cotton candy clouds clumped together—fluffy and pastel pink.

  A deep, calming breath inhaled through my nose, centered me as I drew my bearings together by force. I didn’t understand why I was here instead of back in New York City. That had never happened before. Portals always led back to where I’d just come from.

  I turned and looked in the other direction, expecting a giant, swirling hole in the sky. But there was nothing to see but a solid wall of curling, flowering ivy reaching far above my head. My eyes rapidly took in the leaves as big as my hands and the pale ivory petals on the flowers. In the center of that living wall stood a giant oak tree as tall as a sequoia—its branches reaching out in each direction. At the foot of the enormous tree, a puddle of water glittered, still as glass—the portal.

  Standing carefully, I tested my legs and arms for minor injuries or broken bones. I seemed okay, just sore from yet another hard landing. Gingerly, I hobbled to the foot of the oak tree and knelt next to the glimmering puddle. Reaching out, I swept my hand through the water. The liquid rippled when my fingers moved over it, but it was oddly solid rather than fluid. I knocked on it, the undulations moving over the impenetrable surface. The portal was closed. I knew from experience that some of the portals locked as soon as you came through them, so I’d have to use my magic to open it upon my return. But first, I wanted to use my remaining energy to find out where the hell I was, and why I’d landed in this strange world.

  It was so beautiful. Almost too beautiful.

  Standing around gaping at the scenery wasn’t getting me any closer to the heart of this realm—the pulsing epicenter from whence all the power typically flowed. I felt the same nervy excitement I always did at finding a new world. My parents could be here, waiting for me.

  As I limped along the path, I winced at the sharp stab of pain in my calf. That needed to be taken care of as soon as possible, but getting an idea of the world I’d crash landed in was my priority. As soon as it seemed safe, I’d find a place to heal my wound. The colors kept assaulting my eyes. They were so bright I squinted to take it all in. Everything was too perfect. It was gorgeous to behold, but at the same time something felt off. I didn’t like the lack of smell in the air and the careful, manicured appearance of this world. It was too clean, too staged, too artificial. Anything was an improvement over the burning-rubber stench of the last world. But I didn’t quite trust the unusually calm aura of this realm, especially the lack of energy running through the air. It was like a big empty film set before the actors were cued to take their places.

  Like Dorothy when she landed in Oz, I decided to follow the colored pathway. The red path curved sharply around a clump of tall topiaries shaped like giant rabbits—one on its hind legs and the other two down on all fours. I kept walking, drinking up the puddles and smears of the gorgeous colors in this realm. Several hundred feet away, a thick forest loomed, with the trees packed tightly together. The rolling green plain in front of the forest buzzed with activity. Animals that looked like deer grazed. Their graceful legs were slightly longer than the deer I was used to, and their coats were a vibrant reddish-gold that sparkled in the sun. It was disorienting and unnatural to see things moving without being able to read their energy.

  I turned back to the path in time to see a pack of small, squirrel-like creatures scurrying by. Their extra bushy, feather-strewn tails twitched as they darted under the thick, manicured leaves of a nearby topiary shaped like a large diamond. They squeaked in conversation inside the impenetrable shelter of the leaves. I crept to the bush, sniffing those trimmed leaves, desperate to detect some sort of scent, even an unpleasant one. I needed some clue as to what kind of world this was behind the shiny veneer. The leaves smelled slightly sweet and were velvety soft to the touch.

  Nothing seemed real here. The still air niggled at me—scentless and squeezed completely free of energy. Even the desolate world I’d just come from had stirred up a wealth of sensations, leaving its cold marks on my skin. I walked on, my entire body tense, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  A fork appeared in the red path ahead, guarded by a creature I’d read about, but never seen in person. A centaur stood stock still. The bottom part of his body resembled a large Clydesdale, but the hair on his lower half was a deep silvery blue instead of a chestnut brown. His tail was a slightly darker silver and was neatly combed and adorned with the same large white flowers I’d seen in the curling, ivy wall behind the portal. The upper part of him was human, and he looked like he spent all his free time bodybuilding. A shock of grayish-blue hair matching his tail rippled down his bare, muscular back, curling at the ends. He watched me approach with his large, dark brown eyes, as I walked slowly toward him. Each step was an explorative one, my eyes never leaving his. I was careful to keep my distance.

  He said nothing to me as I came closer. Instead, he lifted what looked like a large plum to his mouth and took a bite. The messenger bag slung over his shoulders was weighed down with more of th
at same deep purple fruit. As I stepped forward, he pawed at the ground with a massive hoof, kicking up dust. Discarded, half-eaten fruit littered the red ground at his feet.

  I stopped a few feet from him. “Hello,” I said in a loud, clear voice, my stance casual and nonthreatening. From my extensive research of the Terra Magicarum, I knew centaurs were intelligent creatures that possessed the capacity for speech and higher-level reasoning. They could be deeply mistrustful of strangers, though, if the notes my mother had written were true, and they tended to stay testy long after they were pissed off. They also didn’t take too kindly to attempts to ride them. I’d laughed until I cried reading that little tidbit, which was underlined twice, imagining my parents trying to jump onto the back of some unwilling centaur.

  The centaur’s long, craggy face crumpled into a look of pure disgust. His dark eyebrows rose to sharp points. But he didn’t answer my greeting. He just took another monstrous bite of his fruit—the juices dripping down his hairless chin and onto his broad chest.

  “Maybe you can help me,” I said, forcing a wide, friendly smile. “I need to know which way to go.”

  He kept glaring at me, chewing with his mouth wide open.

  “Do you know the way to the heart of this world?” I asked. I indicated to the left first, which led into some extremely rough, rocky terrain. The crest of the first hill down that path rose so high, so quickly that I couldn’t see much from where I stood. The sky looked darker in that direction—the cotton candy clouds a dangerous shade of purple on the farthest edge of the horizon. Then I indicated to the path on the right that led across a flat plain, looking much like the smooth path I’d been following since I landed in this world.

  He dropped the piece of fruit he was eating onto the dirt at his feet and dug into his bag for another one. “Go to the Queen,” he said in a disinterested tone, and then took a huge bite of his plum, tearing into with his huge teeth.

  “Will she know where the heart of this realm is?” When he didn’t answer right away, I calmly considered knocking the damn thing out of his hands so he could focus a little harder on coming up with straightforward answers to my questions. But I had to keep in mind that some of the creatures in these other worlds had never encountered a traveler. Others were rude or just plain stupid. But some were extremely powerful and knew how to hide it. I wasn’t interested in starting some epic battle over an attempt to get directions. I didn’t know what this centaur’s deal was, but so far, he was my only shot at getting some rudimentary information about this realm.

  “Find the Queen. She is the center. The beating heart of all hearts.”

  I frowned, losing my smile as I stared up at him with my hands on my hips. “Can you run that by me again?”

  The centaur looked less than amused, translucent juice running down his pointed chin as his thick lips turned down at the corners. He stamped a giant hoof, as his pretty tail twitched to one side and then the other, sending ivory petals flying.

  “Are you saying the Queen knows how to get to the heart of this world?” I asked. “Or that’s where she lives? At the center?”

  “The heart, the Queen, the world, the center…they’re all the same,” he said, his eyes narrowing.

  I didn’t even know where to begin with that. Was it a riddle of some kind?

  “Okay, let me make this easier. How do I find the queen?”

  “By walking.”

  I gritted my teeth, instantly furious at the smartass reply. He was digging into his bag for another plum, letting the half eaten one in his hand hit the red dirt. The wastefulness was almost as bad as the rudeness.

  “Yeah, thanks,” I replied with a scowl. Taking a deep breath, I did a quick ten count to rally my dwindling patience. “Which way should I go? Right?” I pointed. “Or left?” I pointed in the other direction.

  He stopped smacking on his mouthful of fruit and stared me down, those big, brown eyes unnerving. They looked human, but wild at the same time. The light behind them flickered in a way that rattled me a bit. I stepped back, putting some additional distance between us. Not that we’d been all that close—I knew better than that. But he was taller and as muscled as a full-grown plow horse, with powerful limbs and giant hooves that could easily stamp me into the ground if he decided to put a definitive end to this less than pleasant conversation. I didn’t intend to let him trample me without a fight. He’d be damned sorry if he tried anything.

  “Right is the right way,” Oh, thank God. Finally, an actual answer. “But you can’t go wrong with left,” he said, thoughtfully, his hard grimace evaporating. Damn.

  I blinked as my mind attempted to work through every angle of that puzzle of an answer. “What?”

  He went back to chawing on his plum, his giant horse teeth stripping away the pink flesh. His eyes drifted past me. I shot a look over my shoulder, but nothing was back there. Just the red path and the perfect grass spreading out in each direction.

  “Well,” I said, drawing his attention again. “Thanks for all your help.”

  He snorted through his giant nose, nostrils flaring, but kept eating.

  I didn’t have a coin to flip, so I decided to take a chance and go right. The centaur had told me to, hadn’t he, in his own way? And anything that got me away from the sound of him smacking his lips was good enough for me.

  The centaur stamped a giant foot in the dirt one more time as I walked away. “The Queen is both right and left!” he called after me through a full mouth.

  “Enough, already,” I muttered, walking a little faster. I lurched through the hot pain in my calf, while knapsack beat rhythmically against my back. Ahead of me, the path went on for a good long while. With a sigh, I resigned myself to the fact that I was in for some serious walking today.

  My stomach grumbled angrily. After watching that centaur chowing down on so much fruit, I suddenly realized just how hungry I was. I also needed to take care of my leg if I planned to cover any real distance.

  Up ahead on my left, just a few feet off the path, was an orchard, the trees lined up in several dozen rows, each one bearing a different color apple – green, yellow, and of course, red.

  When I stepped off the path, my feet sank into the thick, mossy grass up to my ankles. I limped to the orchard. Rising onto my tiptoes, I plucked a dark red apple from a low hanging branch. The skin was so glossy that I could see my blurry reflection in it. I brought it close and took a deep whiff. The smell was incredible, like fresh baked apple pie in my grandmother’s kitchen. My mouth watered, but I hesitated before sinking my teeth in.

  One of the first worlds I’d visited, after finding the Terra Magicarum, had been one where apples were deadly, especially the blood-red ones. Taking a bite meant falling into the sleep of death, and never waking up again. I’d come to the aid of a raven-haired woman who’d accepted a crimson apple from a dark witch. Somehow, the bite had lodged in her throat, which was the only reason I’d been able to save her life. Had she swallowed it, she’d have been lost forever. As good as this apple smelled, I decided not to chance it. Besides, I had safe, non-deadly, home world snacks in my bag.

  Picking one of the shadiest trees and plopping down underneath it, I pulled my knapsack off so I could relax against the trunk. Sighing at how good it was to be off my feet, I eased my leather jacket off and set it down next to me in the grass. I rolled the slashed leg of my jeans up carefully, pulling the fabric to just below my knees. The wound on my calf was shallow—I was lucky my jeans had absorbed the worst of it—but it was black around the edges, the sight of it tightening my stomach.

  I dug through my knapsack, finding what I was looking for near the messy bottom. I pulled out the small bottle filled with a healing balm I’d brewed using a collection of potent herbs. My mom deserved my thanks for the recipe—her notes in the Magicarum had walked me through every step. Unscrewing the top , I dug into the thick paste with two fingers. Clenching my teeth to keep from shrieking with pain, I rubbed it into the wound on my calf. The
pain was intense—the sharp heat blooming over every inch of my leg for a few seconds—then quickly subsided to a prickly sting. I sat back, exhaling as I wiped the cold sweat from my brow. The battered muscles in my body relaxed. I could feel the broken skin repairing itself as the balm did its magic. In a few minutes, my leg would be as good as new, nothing but a faded scratch would be left in place of the ugly wound.

  I reached into my bag again, taking out the leather-bound book. My fingers rubbed over the raised gothic letters of the title. The Terra Magicarum. The Worlds of Magic. The ultimate travel guide.

  I cracked it open, flipping through the colorful illustrations. The pages of the worlds I’d already explored were dog-eared. My notes were scribbled in the margins the way my parents were. I folded over the corner of the page showing the world I’d just escaped—the picture a dark rendering of the shiny, volcanic glass mountains with the gloomy gray clouds swirling in the sky above them. Jotting a note about the hellhounds under the picture, I shuddered at the memory of how close they came to catching me. A glance down at my leg, revealed the wound nearly healed.

  Flipping through the pages that had yet to be dog-eared, I felt overwhelmed at the amount of work in front of me. There were still so many realms that I hadn’t yet ventured into, but I had promised myself that I’d never stop—at least not until I found my parents. I didn’t feel any closer to finding them than I had the day I’d discovered the Terra, but I refused to give up. The answers were somewhere in these pages, I just had to figure out how to decipher them properly.

  I found a granola bar in the bottom of my bag and munched on it, as I studied the pages of the book, searching for the world I now found myself in. I paused on a picture of a lush, colorful realm that strongly resembled this one. The description mentioned a queen, but not much else. My mother hadn’t left any notes scribbled in the margins, but on the opposite page, there was a sketch of a black heart, broken in two. Frowning, I studied it closely. There wasn’t anything to explain what it meant, but the lack of handwritten notes gave me hope. This might have been the last place my parents traveled to. I may finally be close to figuring out exactly what happened to them.

 

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