by Martha Carr
“Correk,” Turner called, his eyes still closed. “Thanks for getting here so fast.”
“I still don’t understand what you get out of meditation, especially standing up.”
“One day you will find it clears all the noise out of your head. You haven’t reached the point where you hear all the magical happenings of the world yet. Sometimes you need a break from it.”
“I can’t wait.” Correk scoffed. “So, what’s going on?”
“I trust you heard about Leira battling the Yakuza?”
“I did—briefly—before you called me over.”
“From what I’ve found, the group that she battled has split up, but there is something else brewing. Not all the Yakuza groups have gotten the memo apparently.”
“What are they doing now?”
“A group has attacked a young woman who has quite a stash of her own artifacts. She is battling them as we speak, and I think she might need some assistance.”
“Okay, then I better get on it. What are the coordinates?”
“Before you go, you need to know this group has been dormant for a while. They can be extremely dangerous. Their dark magic is strong, and coupled with their training they are a force to be reckoned with.”
“Okay, so should I take anyone with me?”
“No. As Fixer, you can’t purposely involve anyone else in your missions. It’s a moral code that we try hard to live by. If others join you of their own accord that is one thing, but we try not to ask unless it is dire. You and this young woman should be strong enough to force the Yakuza back. Do whatever you need to. They are no help to us, and are just looking for a top position once the gates open.”
“So basically, they are the Japanese version of the dark families. A mob-like organization looking for power over the magical community once it begins to grow.”
“Exactly, and they now have Leira on their radar. Between her, the troll, and Louie, they really put a hurting on the other group of Yakuza, and they don’t take that lightly. I want you to get in and out and try to talk this woman into turning some of these artifacts over to the Griffins. It’s no longer safe to have them if they are very powerful. If not, we can’t force her. there is no law against private citizens having their own artifacts, but if it keeps her safe, make it a strong suggestion.”
“Got it. I’ll report back in when I’m done.”
“Thanks, Correk. Sending the coordinates to your phone now.”
Turner didn’t even pull out his phone, but the location flashed across Correk’s screen. He didn’t know how Turner did that—he hadn’t learned that trick yet—but it was definitely convenient. Correk noted several boaters out on the water as he walked back to the house. He stood in the living room for a moment, thinking about Leira, and wondered if she knew she was in danger from yet another dark magic organization. Even if she didn’t, it would have to wait. He needed to help this woman before she got hurt or killed and her artifacts ended up in the wrong hands.
He pulled magic from the ground, the symbols on his arms turning frantically with different outcomes to the battle he was about to walk into. That was never a good sign, and he hoped his magic would be enough. He opened a portal and looked over his shoulder at the sunny blue sky.
“I really need a vacation.”
15
Correk stepped through and looked at the landscape in front of him. The Golden Gate bridge hung lazily in the background, fog creeping up around it. He hadn’t been in San Francisco before, but this was no time for sightseeing. The sound of a battle caught his attention, he turned to face the back of a large Victorian style house. The grounds were meticulously kept, gardens stretching on either side with many fresh-smelling flowers and roses along the perimeter. Correk carefully advanced, looking up at the windows, but he didn’t see any movement.
He inched along the side of the house and peered around the corner, finding a dozen or more Yakuza in the large gated front yard. Their robes were simple, with just one symbol on the back—the Japanese symbol for Oriceran. Facing the wizards was a tall dark-haired woman and Correk stared for a moment, realizing that she looked familiar but he couldn’t place her. Correk didn’t know this, but she was the same woman Leira had seen in LA facing down the other group of Yakuza.
She stood firm, her hands clenched by her sides, her knuckles white. The scowl on her face let the mobsters know she was not happy at all about them being on her property. She took a step forward and put up her hands.
“You aren’t welcome. There are no artifacts for you here, so go back to where you came from.”
A tall cloaked man with a mask covering his face stepped forward, chuckling. “You think we are fools? Just hand over the artifacts and we will let you live. You are outnumbered. How can you not see this? It’s quite simple—the artifacts for your life, and I am being generous this afternoon. We could have already killed you and been gone by now. My patience is growing thin.”
The woman gritted her teeth and put out her hands, pulling energy from the ground. She was an elf, and from the waves of energy around her, a rather powerful one. The light emanating from the ground cloaked her in a warm glow as symbols began to appear on her arms and neck, flipping wildly. Correk knew she was an elf, but he couldn’t quite figure out what type.
Suddenly she thrust out her arms, and a burst of energy knocked Correk and most of the Yakuza off their feet. The leader landed several feet back and started laughing before he’d even recovered. He climbed to his feet and dusted off his robes. He nodded at the man next to him and waited as the wizard gave the signal to the warriors. They all raised their wands, dark magic swirling around the ends.
The leader cackled. “You made your choice.”
The woman took a defensive pose, her eyes wide as she scanned the long line of warriors. Correk knew if he didn’t do something she would be blown to bits, since there was no way for her to ward them all off at once. He took a deep breath and whispered a spell as he pulled a large orb of light into his hands. “Shieldus Maximus.”
Just as the warriors released the magic from their wands, Correk jumped out, sprinting toward the woman and pulling her onto her knees next to him. His shield covered them as dark magic arrows bounced against the glow of his magic.
“Who are you?” she shouted.
“Correk. I’m the Fixer. Turner sent me.”
“Oh. Well, thanks. I’m Brittany Wilson.” She glanced at Correk and ducked her head as a large orb hit the shield. “Mom was into 90s pop music...what can you do?”
Correk smiled, staring at her for a moment. He couldn’t quite place where he had seen her before or what kind of elf she was, but holding her arm he could feel the deep energy radiating inside her. She looked at the Yakuza and back at Correk.
“These are the same type of warriors I helped fight in Los Angeles, only these aren’t the same faces. I can tell their clan by the insignia on their cloaks. They are powerful.”
Correk’s arms shook. “Yes. Too powerful for one magical creature to face alone. What do you have in there that they want so badly?”
“Artifacts—old ones that have been passed down in my family. I was going to move them tomorrow, but the Yakuza were faster. I won’t give them up, not unless they pry them from my cold dead hands.”
“That might happen if we don’t start fighting back. You ready to face these men? I can’t hold this shield much longer.”
Brittany nodded and looked at the masked leader of the group.
“When I let go,” Correk yelled, “I’ll push the shield outward. This will buy us a few seconds to get the magic started. I’ll focus on the right side of the crew and you focus on the left. Is that good?”
“Yes.”
Correk sat there for a moment, looking at the wizards and formulating his tactics. With each thought the symbols across his neck and arms moved faster, giving different outcomes for each choice. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly stood, still holding the shield in f
ront of them. He growled as he thrust his arms forward, sending the shield toward the Yakuza.
Correk and Brittany split in separate directions, hiding behind large columns on each side of the door. They breathed heavily as they peeked at the men gathering themselves after the blow from Correk’s magic. Immediately they both gathered orbs in their hands, whispering intention into the magic: Find your target. They nodded at each other before throwing the fireballs as hard as they could toward the group of men. Their magic intertwined, circling around before bursting open and sending dozens of smaller balls of light zipping through the group.
Some of the wizards evaporated them with their wands and returned fire. Others yelped, the hot orb singeing their skin through their robes. The masked warrior growled and released a cascade of magical arrows that blazed between the columns and struck the house before disappearing. Brittany and Correk ducked behind the pillars and pulled more magic into their hands. Brittany leaned to the other side and lobbed one orb after another, and several of the attackers fell to the ground writhing.
Correk emitted a steady stream of light that crossed the ground to wrap around several of the warriors’ feet and inched up their body, stunning their dark magic. The men growled and coughed as they pulled at the strangling white light, their wands falling from their hands. The leader whirled, his cloak whipping behind him, and sent out a dark cascade of light just like Correk’s. The dark and the light tangled, fighting back and forth and eventually dissolved and released the strangled warriors.
“He’s good,” Brittany commented, not looking at Correk.
“Good, yes, but not better than the two of us.”
Correk pressed his back against the column and breathed deeply. He knew he had to step out and really fight, and not from the cover of the porch. There were a lot of them, but all he needed was to push them back enough to get Brittany and the artifacts out of there. As he clenched his eyes shut he pulled the energy from beneath him, building it stronger and stronger inside of him. It swirled through his body, more powerful than before. He could almost hear it humming inside of him. It’s now or never.
He opened his eyes and glanced at Brittany before stepping into the open. Balls of light flew from his hands and struck down several of the warriors. He waved his hand, hurling his magic to push back their advances, ducking and diving as he moved forward one step at a time. Balls of light zipped by from behind him to batter the oncoming troops and Brittany rushed up beside him with determination on her face. The two of them continued casting spells right and left, sending them spiraling at the Yakuza.
The leader growled, swirling his wand wildly over his head and casting a stream of fireballs at the two. Correk shoved Brittany to the side and rolled, barely dodging the magic. A steady stream of light magic shot from Correk and struck the leader in the chest, sending him flying back into several other wizards. Brittany scrambled to her feet and pelted him with magic bursts, keeping him pinned to the ground. He growled and flailed as he attempted to get to his feet but Brittany kept pelting, the glow around her growing with every passing second.
Correk nodded at her as he pushed out more fireballs, knocking the others back farther. They looked on in horror as their leader clawed at the ground, his cloak singed from the magic. There was nothing they could do to help him, especially with Correk targeting anyone who attempted to get close to him.
“We need a big distraction so we can get you and those artifacts through the portal,” Correk yelled to Brittany.
“I can handle that. You might want to take a few steps back.”
Correk nodded, taking several steps back but still throwing fireballs at the approaching warriors. Brittany took a deep breath and began swirling blue, green, and white light. The others paused, never having seen an elf use that kind of magic before. She curled the energy into a large ball and looked back at Correk, nodding before throwing it hard at the ground in front of the wizards.
The explosion sent bright rays of light streaming into the sky. Correk put out his arms, catching Brittany as the force of the blast lifted her off her feet. He looked down at her as she shook the dirt from her hair.
“Let’s get out of here,” he urged.
“I won’t argue with you.”
He lowered her to her feet and the two bolted for the door, locking it behind them. Correk stood watch against the wall by the window as Brittany ran behind the couch and picked up a large duffle bag, slinging it over her shoulder and making sure she had everything else she would need.
“Thanks for the assist.” She smiled, patting the bag.
“What are you going to do with that?”
“Make sure it’s secure with the right people.” A sound of feet hitting the porch stairs forced Brittany to shoot a ball of light forward and tear it open into a portal. “I have to go, but I promise it and I will be safe. Don’t dilly-dally—the back door is open.”
Correk glanced at the garden doors, which were wide open to the backyard. Brittany disappeared into the portal, quickly closing it behind her. The sparks shimmered across the floor and Correk stood there for a moment, almost entranced by the humming of the magic in his head. The sudden pounding on the front door startled him back and he took off toward the garden doors, stopping as he put one foot over the threshold.
In the backyard a portal was open, and a man was climbing through. Correk tilted his head and took a step out, blinking uncertainly. The man looked just like Jackson, Leira’s father, but he couldn’t be completely sure. Whoever it was, they were in a hurry and closed their portal before Correk could even make a move toward it.
“What in the world would Jackson be doing in San Francisco?” Correk asked out loud.
Before he could give it another thought the front door blew off of its hinges. Correk leapt over the side of the balcony and landed on the grass, almost falling into the bushes. He opened a portal as the masked man ran to the railing, staring down at him. Correk tipped an imaginary hat and stepped through, clapping his hands to close it. He was back on the lawn at Turner’s house, and birds were flying over the lake.
He plopped down on the grass to catch his breath. Everything about the entire situation had been peculiar. Brittany was familiar but he couldn’t seem to place her, and her magic was strong—possibly even stronger than his. The Yakuza had been insanely well trained, battering them with spells and never once faltering in their attack. Then there was the man in the yard, the one who looked exactly like his woman friend's father who was supposed to be working on Oriceran.
Turner tapped Correk on the shoulder with his cane. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“A few, actually.”
Correk rolled his shoulders and squinted up at Turner. He wore a perfectly-tailored suit and leaned heavily on his cane. Correk was amazed at how well Turner always looked, especially for having been the one who had gone on all the missions before Correk came along.
“Do you ever wear the same suit twice?” Correk grunted as he pushed himself to his feet.
“Depends on my mood. So, did you help her?”
“Uh, yeah, I suppose. The Yakuza were crazy strong, but between the two of us we were able to push them back long enough to get her and her artifacts out of there. I would have brought her here, but she opened her own portal and popped out, saying she would take care of things. She was a very powerful elf, and I have to admit, even with my training I couldn’t figure out what kind she was.”
Turner smirked and moved toward the house, hobbling through the grass. “Come on. I just started the coffee. We can talk more about the mission inside, and about the fact that you were able to physically sense the magic around you. That is a big step for a Fixer.”
“How did you know?” Correk brushed off his pants and jogged after Turner.
“I’m a Fixer. We know things.”
16
“I have a feeling this place will be more than popular with the Oricerans once they come over if it lasts that long.” Corr
ek looked around the large room. Every seat was full and the art on the walls caught his eye.
“Why do you say that?” Leira sipped her drink.
“Well, it’s farmer-owned and we have a lot of farmers, and there are a million things on here made of vegetables. They can try one of the burgers Earth is known for, but it is completely made of vegetables. You people are so crafty.”
Leira chuckled, enjoying Correk’s wide eyes. “You still look like a child discovering the world, even after being here for more than a year.”
“There are so many things that are different, and let’s face it—I rarely have time to enjoy them, especially recently.”
“Yeah.” Leira scoffed. “Tell me about it. Between keeping up with my contacts and having the government’s portals randomly popping up in the house, I never have a moment alone.”
Correk smiled and set down his menu, taking Leira’s hand. “But tonight we dine! It’s nice to have some alone time with you. So, tell me about this place. The Founding Fathers, is it?”
“Well, I’ve wanted to eat here forever. Not only is it just five blocks from the White House, but it is also a Co-op, meaning it’s owned not just by one big shot sitting in some office far away counting his money, but by everyone who works here—and most importantly, by the farmers they buy the food from. They’re all fresh local ingredients. I’m a fan of giving back to the little man.”
“Me too, though it astounds me that you have to create a concept like this to buy from the little man. There are no big men on Oriceran, and we do just fine.”
“Yes, well, things stopped being simple on this planet a long time ago.”
The waitress ambled up to the table and set down Correk’s drink. “Have you decided on an appetizer?”
“I believe we know the whole thing,” Leira replied, looking at Correk.
“Yep, I’m ready. Go ahead.”
“We’ll start with the Devil-ish Eggs, and then I’m going to have the Fish, Chips, and Beer.”
