by Martha Carr
A rabbit poked its head under the fence near the gate, not seeing the large poodle at first. The poodle lifted its head, spotted the rabbit and jumped up, barking madly as it took off for a chase. The rabbit streaked across the yard in front of the mower, pursued by the dog.
Startled out of his daydream, Hagan gripped the steering wheel of the Troy-Bilt, his foot hitting the gas as he jerked the wheel, turning the mower straight into the flower beds. It was over in seconds.
He turned the mower away as quickly as he could, steering back onto the grass, and shut it off, turning in his seat to get a look at what was left of the flowers.
A large U-shaped swath was cut into the flowers, mowed down to green stubs with a colorful band of chopped confetti spread out around them.
“Fuck me,” Hagan groaned. He was already trying to figure out how to buy himself enough time to go get more plants and hide this from Rose. He looked at his watch and realized the local Lowe’s was closing in just a few minutes. The poodle trotted up, panting, a smile on his face.
“I’m glad you’re happy. Make room for me, will ya? I’m going to be in the doghouse for sure.”
He started up the mower again, shooing the poodle away, so he could finish the lawn and buy himself some time. There was a chance Rose wouldn’t notice the flowers that night but she’d see it through the back door in the morning. A half-finished job would make her come out and take a closer look. Better to calm down enough to finish. He figured it would give him more time to think of a plan or plausible denial, anyway.
Hagan pursed his lips as he carefully turned the mower again, determined not to mow over any more of the flowers. I’ll have to ask Leira to get me out of this one, he thought. Do some of that hocus pocus.
“Or they will be investigating my homicide next. Woo boy,” he said, making another turn. “Leira’s got to understand this one.”
***
Outside the Chicago Avenue Pumping Station there was a sign on the sidewalk that said, ‘Closed for Renovations. Check back soon.’
The run of the play, Peter Pan was quietly moved to the Broadway Playhouse at the nearby Water Tower with the explanation that there was an unfortunate gas leak, mimicking the story in the press. The crew of the play scrambled to figure out sets and lighting and quickly forgot about the explosion at the Pumping Station, except to complain about their bad luck.
Inside the Pumping Station, the elders of the Order of the Silver Griffins picked through the rubble, occasionally stopping to turn over fallen debris and examine the burn patterns from a fireball. The dead and wounded had all been removed and the enemy combatants identified. The bodies were returned quietly to their families who came up with alternative stories about dying from an illness or in a car accident. A witch in the coroner’s office agreed to help with the cover up, according to previously approved protocol for this extreme situation.
This was the first time in recent memory that anyone had to pull the protocols out and give them a read through.
“I think we have enough,” said a witch, straightening up, placing her hand in the small of her back and stretching. “Let’s convene in the theater.”
The other five witches and wizards followed her without comment, walking toward the theater that sat over the northern side of the vault. They sat in the folding chairs in a tight circle on the stage and waited for the witch to begin speaking. Nothing about her gave the impression that she was in charge of an Order hundreds of years old that kept human beings from finding out about magic and looked out for everyone’s well-being.
She wore her usual outfit of jeans and a t-shirt with a puffy coat and thick socks tucked into Crocs. If it was snowing or icy, she would have changed into Uggs.
“Where to start,” she said solemnly, licking her lips. The whole thing gave her pause and made her feel older than her years. “Well, has anyone found Hannah yet? No?” The young witch had disappeared during the fighting and her mother and grandmother were frantic, wondering if she had been dragged off by the darkness that had invaded the Pumping Station.
The witch knew better. She pulled out her wand and uttered a short incantation, swirling the wand, drawing up images from the fight. The others recoiled. No one wanted to see the fighting again and watch friends struck down.
The witch waved her wand again, enlarging just a portion of the image, pouring light into the background. There was Hannah, sliding along the wall, doing her best not to attract attention.
The witch waved her wand one more time, helping everyone to see what she had spotted the first time she watched this, enlarging Hannah’s pocket. The corner of a black velvet box was sticking out.
There was a chorus of gasps and one witch put a hand to her mouth, gasping, “No!” A wizard sat back hard in his chair, exclaiming, “Bullshit!” Others shook their heads and leaned in closer, trying to be sure, not wanting to believe what they could clearly see.
Hannah was a traitor.
“We were done in by a third-generation member who handed over the prize. No, we don’t believe she went so far as to lead them here. She still has some integrity intact and perhaps it’s possible she had a reason for what she did, but there it is. I haven’t told her family yet. We need to know more, first.”
“You saw the traces upstairs. The marks on the rubble,” said a wizard with short silver hair, slicked straight back. “We all know whose old magic they were using. Rhazdon.”
“They’ve improved on it, if that’s what you’d call it. Added tracking to it. Did you see how some of those bolts turned when we ducked?” asked another wizard, still wearing his woolen topcoat over his suit. His face was ashen. “I’ve known Hannah since she was a little girl,” he said quietly.
“She’s not little anymore, and she chose to betray us,” the other wizard said angrily. “She knew every one of us and chose her path anyway.”
“Hannah will be dealt with, like any other member who works with the dark side,” the witch said tersely. “There is already a team out searching for her and no matter what charm she’s placed on herself to hide her whereabouts, it won’t work. She’ll be found.”
“Unless they’re hiding her.”
The witch glared at the silver-haired wizard. “Let’s hope it didn’t go that far. But to your point, we will find them, as well. They have dispersed, back into their communities spread out across the United States but we all know that magic leaves a trail as singular as a fingerprint.”
“Are they followers of Rhazdon’s?”
“It would appear so, and that there was yet another cache of powerful, dark magic hidden by the original cult, just waiting for a rebirth. We don’t seem to be able to completely rid ourselves of that damnable Atlantean,” the witch spat. “But dark magic leaves its own trail, even if they have yet another artifact from Rhazdon’s collection to hide them.” The witch turned toward the far exit and called, “You can come in now!”
A young woman pushed open the heavy door and stepped into the theater. She stopped at the top of the stairs that led down to the circular stage-in-the-round.
“Come down here and meet everyone.” When she reached the stage, the older witch said, “Meet Katie Toler, our new secret weapon. She’s been appointed as a special agent to find the new uprising of the cult.”
She was a young woman with blonde hair to her shoulders and striking blue eyes behind brown square glasses, wearing tights and a long puffy coat, with boots up to her knees. Nothing about her seemed formidable.
Everyone looked skeptical, but no one said anything.
“Good evening, everyone. I know there’s a full moon tonight and most families like to celebrate so I’ll keep this short. I have a small demonstration that will explain why I was chosen as a special agent for the Order of the Silver Griffins.”
Katie pulled out a retractable wand, letting it unfold and snap into place automatically.
“Transformalia.” She waved the wand above her head, the shooting sparks flowing down around her. A
s they fell her hair transformed into long, thin tentacles and her eyes took on distinctive slits instead of round pupils. “Beautiful, aren’t they?” She ran her fingers through the tentacles as they wound around her fingers, the small suction cups clinging to her. “As you can see, I’m half Atlantean and half witch. Not human at all. My great grandfather was even in the original cult. Not to worry,” she said, holding out her wand to stop anyone from getting up from their seat. She was used to this reaction and found it best to push back right away. Let everyone get to know her later. Make a stand first.
“We aren’t all arrogant bitches. Oh, I’m a bitch alright. Fortunately, I’m on your side this time. I know normally this much Atlantean blood would disqualify me for the Order…”
“Which is why she’s been appointed as a special liaison to the Order as an agent to be used on assignment as needed.”
“And dear ones, it looks like there’s an assignment. I’m not fond of what my ancestor started and not happy that some whack jobs have picked up where he left off. Just when people were starting to get over what my kind had done. Well, half of me at least,” she said, winking at one of the wizards, who gave her a cold, stony look in return.
“My usual reception. Don’t worry, I grow on you. In the meantime, I know a little about these artifacts. Family lore passed down through the generations and I have contacts and access you don’t have and can’t get. Even better, a skill set that combines your powers,” she said, waving her wand to transform herself back into the pretty young blonde, “with theirs. Pretty sick, right? They won’t see me coming.” She pulled out a strand of her hair and waved a wand over it, turning it back into a coiled tentacle. She moved her wand above it, whispering into it, swirling the air around it faster and faster, until it disappeared into the stream. She meticulously folded up her wand and put it away.
“I should have something for you later tonight. You bitches stay up that late?” She smiled broadly. “Don’t worry. I’m mostly harmless.” She dropped the smile. “Unless you cross one of mine. And the wizard who got his leg broken last night and lost a lot of blood? That was my father. Cold reckoning is coming for some foolish elves out there.”
“This isn’t about revenge,” said a witch.
“I don’t get even, honey. I just get it done.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Correk and Leira walked into the Jackalope Bar and stopped, staring at the loud party already underway.
“Come on,” said Leira, “Let’s find the food table so I can put this down.” They veered around the three-foot high statue of an antlered brown rabbit sitting square in the middle of the entrance to the bar. Hanging from its neck was a sign that read, ‘closed for a private function.’
Leira was carrying a large plastic container full of three-bean salad she had bought at Whole Foods. In the car, she poured it into the container she brought from home while Correk watched her with a bemused smile. “It’s a thing, trust me,” she said. “Don’t judge.”
They found the food table along a back wall, loaded down with casseroles, fried chicken and salads. At the far end were open bags of chips and jars of salsa. Leira tugged Correk’s sleeve until he looked at her. She shook her head firmly. No. Correk sighed and waited till she turned her back, grabbing one chip and stuffing it into his mouth with a loud crunch. Leira turned back to see what he’d done but he stood there, waiting patiently till she turned around again and melted into the crowd before he finished chewing.
“Vinegar and salt. Not bad.”
Leira went in search of new people to mingle with so she could mine them for information, and get to know people who were like her. One foot firmly planted in two different realities. Average human mixed with a little magic, and a distant world cut off from them for the most part, but only for a while longer.
“Leira! You made it!” Toni shouted over the music and the buzz of everyone talking and laughing. She held out her arms and pulled Leira into a hug. “I’m so glad you came! Oh good, you brought your friend, too.” Leira looked back to see Correk sliding another chip into his mouth. She smiled despite herself.
“It’s a full moon, isn’t it wonderful? Can’t you feel the buzz? My mother used to say, make a wish! They come true when you make them on the night of a full moon. I think that’s because all that childlike belief gave them an added boost. You get a beer yet? Go tell the bartender. It’s an open bar. Crazy Jack, yeah, that’s his name, he lets crazy magical people drink for free at these parties. We always take up a collection at the end anyway.”
“How did all of you find each other?” Leira turned around, looking at all of the people packed into the bar. “I had no idea…” Her voice trailed off and she felt a pang in her chest. Kind of family, kind of not.
“This didn’t happen overnight. It was hundreds of years in the making. Generations of people. Now, you’re here and we’ve grown a little more. That’s how it happens. We’re everywhere, all over the world, doing amazing things, impressing the hell out of humans. Even inspiring them to try harder because they think it’s one of them doing that flippin’ feat!” Toni let out a deep-throated laugh. “All those YouTube videos! We’re certainly not a shy lot. Where’s the troll? You brought him, didn’t you? He probably needs to get out around people who won’t try and squash him first chance they get.”
Leira reached into her pocket and brought out the troll. He was curled into a ball, his eyes wide open, calmly looking around at everyone. “If you’re sure…”
Toni nodded.
Leira whispered over him, releasing him from the spell and he sat up in a flash, bounded off her hand, and landed easily on the floor, bouncing to the music. The people right around him smiled and cheered as he spun on his green head, neatly jumping back to his feet.
“Trolls can dance!”
“They’re basically show offs,” shouted Toni. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to some more people. Jeff, come here, I want you to meet someone! This is Leira. Jeff works for Google in Round Rock. He’s been helping the humans get ready for our arrival, even if they don’t know it.”
“I slide things into the search engine about ancient so-called myths,” said Jeff, smiling as he took a sip of his beer. “Go on, you can ask. I can tell you want to. New people, especially the ones who just found out they’re not entirely human, always want to ask. I’m a wizard, full blooded, born here. You?”
Leira hesitated. It was the first time she said the words out loud. “I’m half human, half Light Elf, I think.”
“There, that wasn’t so hard. Although I think you got that human percentage wrong. That buzz I feel when I get near you is not just the beer. There’s something else there, something powerful but I can’t quite put my finger on it. Oh look!”
The troll was popping and locking as a chant went up from the crowd. “Go troll! Go troll!”
Second time someone has said that to me.
“Hey, Stacey, have you met Leira yet? Stacey’s family has been a part of this group for at least a century. Nice family. Light Elves and Southern Baptists.”
“We started the fire dancing night,” Stacey laughed. “We go out to Ryland’s ranch where we can really carry on and take turns with flaming hula hoops and flaming ropes.”
“The men love to joust with flaming swords,” Toni said.
“Of course they do!” The women hooted with laughter, clinking their bottles together.
I really like them, thought Leira, tempted to hold off on asking any questions. That’s not who I am. Detective down to my bones. She steadied herself, remembering what Correk had told her and pulled in energy through her feet, mixing it with the skills she had learned as a detective.
“Anyone else feel that ginormous magic wave earlier today?”
The two women stopped laughing, trying to hide their surprise, not doing a very good job of it. They glanced meaningfully at each other and Stacey took a long sip from her beer, looking away.
Leira stayed in detective mode, waiting fo
r someone to figure out an answer. Hagan was always telling her, he who speaks first, loses. She had time, she could wait patiently. She fixed Toni with her best dead fish look and felt a hum of energy at her feet. Mixing the two skills was getting easier every time.
“You’re a hard one to ignore,” Toni said with a nervous smile. “Look, I don’t know how you so called felt it, this far away but no one outside of the Order of Silver Griffins is supposed to know anything. That includes the magical community at large. We only know because Brian over there is a wizard with a cousin in the Order and neither one of them is the best at keeping a secret.”
Leira turned to look at Stacey who was still sucking on the end of her beer bottle. Leira focused even more, waiting, pulling the energy up from the ground, her eyes starting to shimmer. Stacey caught a glimpse, started and put her arm down.
“You do not fool around. How do you do that on this planet? Only Oricerans can pull that off and that’s if they go back to recharge. Fine, fine. It was in Chicago, some kind of explosion at a facility the Order maintains. Right in the heart of the Gold Coast where all the fancy people live. The one percenters.”
Correk walked up next to Leira, holding a plate of food. “This salad made of potatoes is amazing! Hello.”
Leira focused on Stacey. She wasn’t sure if she was exactly playing fair, but she didn’t care. She needed information and was in no mood to wait till someone felt like telling her.
“The Order had something that this cult wanted. Some kind of jewelry.”
Correk choked as a bite went down the wrong way. Toni pounded on his back. “I’m alright. I’m fine. Thank you, that’s enough pounding.”
Leira continued to focus on the energy within, waiting patiently for Stacey to finish. “Brian’s cousin said they used dark magic, really old stuff. Hundreds of years old at least. Left over from that scary Atlantean they try to teach us about at Saturday magical school. When you grow up inside the community on this planet, they give you a basic overview, teach you some magic, and all the rules. Then there’s the history lesson.”
