The Lost Mage

by Difar, Amy

  Darakin approached the vacuum slowly. Nora took his hand and held it up to the open end of the hose. “Feel the suction?”

  Darakin yanked his hand back.

  “Now watch,” Nora said as she ran the vacuum over the dirt on the carpet, sucking it into its canister.

  “You’re summoning some kind of wind vortex!”

  “You mean like a tornado? I don’t know about that. At any rate, I’m not doing anything. The machine is.” Nora finished vacuuming and put the machine away.

  “It’s okay now, Mrowley, you can come out,” she called.

  Mrowley’s muffled voice came from the bedroom. “Not until the cat eating machine is gone.”

  Darakin laughed. “It’s gone, kitty. It’s safe now.”

  Mrowley poked his head out from the bedroom and looked around. When he felt the coast was clear, he walked out and jumped onto the sofa to sit between them again.

  Nora gave him a pet on the head.

  “I didn’t know you were such a coward, cat,” Darakin teased.

  Coward? Mrowley sputtered. I’m not a coward.

  “But you were hiding.”

  Not hiding, Darakin, getting ready to make a sneak attack.

  “Ah. My mistake.” Darakin looked over the cat at Nora. “He was getting ready to make a sneak attack,” he whispered in a loud voice.

  Nora laughed.

  Humph.

  Chapter Eight

  That evening, Nora made a roast. As she cooked, she explained as best she could, how the oven and stove worked to Darakin. The startled mage wandered around the small kitchen hesitantly touching various things, trying to figure it all out. The fact that the power of the elements was readily available to the people of this land was still unbelievable to him. He felt sad and powerless in this environment.

  “I can’t believe this,” he shook his head.

  “What?”

  “All these machines you have. They summon fire and wind and water. Those are things that only a mage can do at home. I’m not even needed here.”

  “I’m sorry.” Nora didn’t know what else to say.

  “I have to find a way home.”

  “How are you going to do that?”

  “I don’t know. Are there any mages or wizards here, I mean other than the ones that would make me fly?”

  “Not that I know of. I’ll let you know if I think of anyone.”

  “Thank you.”

  While she cooked, Mrowley walked back and forth rubbing against Nora’s legs in an attempt to get her to drop some scraps of food for him.

  “Oh, for Heaven’s sake, would you feed that cat so he’ll stop tripping me?”

  “Okay, sorry.” Darakin took the cat to another room and opened a can of cat food for him.

  Sure, you’re getting roasted meat and I’m getting chicken byproducts, the cat complained.

  “What’s a chicken byproduct?”

  I don’t know, but I hear that that’s what in this food.

  “Where did you hear that?”

  On the magic box.

  “Cat, I really don’t understand. It’s called cat food. Is it not appropriate for you?”

  I guess it’s better than nothing.

  “Ingrate.” Darakin turned in annoyance.

  Dude, don’t be mad. It’s just that the meat smell started my tummy rumbling and I used to get scraps of meat from restaurant garbage bins. It tastes a lot better than this does. But thanks for getting me the cat food.

  “You’re welcome,” Darakin said, mollified by the cat’s apologetic words. He returned to the kitchen where Nora was dishing out portions onto plates for the two of them.

  “Go sit down, I’ll bring the food in.”

  Darakin walked over to the small table that sat in between the kitchen area and the living room of the small apartment. Two burning candles sat in the middle of the table.

  “Ah, fire,” Darakin muttered with longing.

  “What’s that?” Nora called from the kitchen.

  “Nothing, just missing my fire-calling abilities.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry. It must be hard for you.”

  “Does that mean you finally believe me?”

  “Well … I believe that you believe.”

  “Nora, what do I need to do to convince you?”

  “I’m not sure you can, sweetie.” Nora flushed with embarrassment as she realized that she called him sweetie.

  Darakin, who also noticed the endearment, cleared his throat and sat. “It smells delicious.”

  Nora, relieved that he was letting the sweetie slip pass without comment, said, “Well, I hope it tastes as good as it smells.” She put a plate in front of him and sat with her own food. “Wine?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Nora picked up the wine bottle and poured a glass for each of them.

  “To avoiding the INS,” she said, clinking her glass against his.

  “Um, okay.” Darius clinked his glass against hers a little too hard. His wine spilled onto the white tablecloth.

  “Oh, you must not do that where you’re from. It’s called a toast. We drink in honor of something and gently touch glasses.” She took a napkin and dabbed at the stain.

  “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay, I’ll add it to the list.”

  “What list?”

  “The list of replacement items I need to buy. You know, one container of cream, a bag of sugar, a new houseplant for my table and now, a new tablecloth.”

  “I’ll give you my dollars when I get paid again to help pay for the items.”

  “Thank you.”

  Mrowley stationed himself beneath the table, alternating rubbing against their legs. Each dropped food for him, unbeknownst to the other. Before long, the cat’s belly was full and he sauntered to the sofa to lie down.

  Darakin listened in fascination as Nora talked about her homeland. She described it in the hyperbolic style of an Irish storyteller, making it seem like an enchanted land and Darakin soon found himself wanting to visit. But even more enchanting than the description of her homeland, was Nora herself. She glowed with beauty as she described her childhood haunts and exploits.

  When they had finished eating, Darakin took Nora’s cue and cleared the table with her. He picked up a clean dish towel and dried the dishes as she washed them, causing their hands to touch several times.

  When the kitchen was clean, they turned toward each other and stood there in an awkward silence.

  Finally, Darakin cleared his throat. “Nora, this is … well, I don’t know how to say this. I don’t know how things are done here and I don’t want to make another social mistake or insult you, but I find you very attractive.”

  “Thank goodness! I want you, too.” She jumped forward and embraced him.

  Surprised by her sudden movement, Darakin staggered back a step or two, but quickly caught her in a strong embrace. She lifted her face to his and he bent down to kiss her. She returned his kiss with fervor and started moving out of the kitchen, pulling him with her.

  Darakin allowed himself to be dragged out of the kitchen toward the bedroom.

  Dude, the cat nodded his head with approval as the two shuffled past him.

  Darakin ignored the cat, who decided to try to tag along. Just as he reached the door, it swung shut. The cat sighed and returned to the sofa.

  He looked at the remote and then at the magic box. Nora had left the doors to the cabinet open. The cat walked on the remote several times until it turned on.

  Even though the human stories rarely featured cats, he still liked watching the stories. He enjoyed the movement on the screen and found the sound of voices comforting, although music programs were his favorite. He sat there watching the magic box, reveling in the warmth of the apartment and the full feeling in his belly. He was happier than he’d been in a long time.

  A few hours later, the bedroom door opened and Darakin came out. He was puzzled that the magic box was on and tiptoed over to find the small box
that Nora had used to control it. He found the remote and looked at the symbols on it. He pressed several buttons, causing various messages to appear and changed the channel several times before he found the power button. With the box finally quiet, he turned around.

  Dude, the cat whispered.

  Darakin jumped at the unexpected sound. “What?”

  Nice. The cat looked at the bedroom and nodded in approval.

  “Hey, that’s none of your business, kitty.”

  Where are you going?

  “The bathroom. I have to say that I love the indoor outhouse thing in this dimension.”

  Yeah, it’s nice having a box nearby, too. Hey? Can I come sleep in there with you? I did promise to keep you warm and all.

  “Sure. Unless Nora says no, it’s fine with me.”

  Coolio.

  “Coolio? What’s that?”

  Nothing. I mean, it’s not a thing, it means great.

  “Oh.” Darakin took care of his business and the cat followed him back into the bedroom, climbing on his legs and making himself comfortable.

  Nora rolled over, looked at the cat on Darakin’s legs and laughed.

  “It’s okay?” Darakin asked, brushing her hair from her face.

  “Yes, it’s fine. I mean he already made himself at home here earlier.”

  “Coolio.”

  Nora burst out laughing again. “Coolio?”

  “Yes, great. I mean, good.”

  “Where did you pick that one up from?”

  “Mrowley.” He gave the cat a dirty look, but the feline was already in full catnap, with his head tucked upside down under a paw.

  “Figures. It sounds kind of juvenile; you should just say ‘great’ in the future.”

  “Okay.” Darakin wrapped a powerful arm around her and the two of them fell sound asleep.

  Chapter Nine

  As the sun was rising, Mrowley, having gotten up for some nocturnal prowling, padded softly back into the room. He jumped up on Nora’s side of the bed and dropped his prize on the sheet next to her face.

  He then curled up next to her belly to await her reaction. After a few minutes, she still hadn’t awoken, so he pawed at her arm.

  Darakin was sound asleep, dreaming of being on a sturdy ship, calling his precious winds to guide the ship in exchange for his passage, when he was awakened by a bloodcurdling scream.

  “What? What’s wrong?” He jumped out of the bed and stood, ready to do battle. He looked at the small object on the bed. “What’s that?”

  A mousie.

  “It’s a mouse!” Nora was shrieking and scooting back from her side of the bed.

  That’s what I said.

  “It’s dead,” Nora said as she backed up against Darakin.

  You’re welcome.

  “Mrowley? Did you put a mouse in the bed with Nora?”

  Of course! You don’t have to thank me, it was my pleasure. The cat looked pleased with himself.

  “Thank you? Why would I thank you for putting a dead rodent in her bed?”

  The cat actually appeared confused. Because that’s what I do. I kill mousies. I gave it to Nora as a thank you letting me … us stay here.

  “Nora, I’m sorry, he says it’s to thank you for taking us in.”

  “Ugh.” Nora pushed Darakin off the bed so she could stand on his side. She crept around the bed to look at the mouse again. She screeched and ran out of the room shouting, “Oh my God. I can’t believe I have mice.”

  Not anymore! Mrowley called after her. Wow, there’s just no pleasing some people. The cat licked a paw.

  “Cat! You have to stop with this. You can’t put dead mice in people’s beds.”

  But why not? Would you rather I leave them on the floor?

  “No! No more dead mice.”

  Okay, but don’t blame me when the place is overrun with live ones.

  Darakin made a sound of frustration and went to the kitchen. He returned with a bag to put the carcass in.

  Hey! That was my lunch.

  “No. I will give you some of that canned cat food and you will eat it. Apparently, that’s what civilized cats do here.”

  Humph. So-called civilized cats can’t mouse. Everyone knows that. Mrowley made a grumbling noise and went back to his bath.

  Darakin left the bedroom and found Nora in the kitchen biting her fingernail.

  “I’m sorry, Nora. He didn’t mean to make you mad.”

  “Ach, Darakin, I’m not mad at Mrowley. He’s just being a cat. But I’d rather not have dead things in my bed. Plus, it kind of freaks me out that I’ve had mice here and didn’t know it.”

  “Well, Mrowley seems to think he took care of the problem, but don’t worry, I told him no more dead mice.”

  “No more dead mice? Are you kidding me? Dead ones are better than live ones. Let him do his job.”

  Told you. The cat had come out from the bedroom to listen to the exchange.

  “Hush, cat. Fine, keep hunting the mice, just don’t leave them in the bed, okay?”

  Sure, sure. You only had to ask.

  Darakin turned back to Nora. “Well, I’m sorry he woke you up.”

  “It’s okay. I had to get up anyway. I have to do some laundry. What about you? Don’t you want to wash your clothes?”

  Darakin flushed with embarrassment. “I’m afraid these are all I have. I’ll wash them, but I’ll be … less than clothed while I do it.”

  “Really? You don’t have a change of clothing?”

  “No. Remember, summoned here involuntarily? Didn’t have time to pack a bag.”

  “Of course not. Well, you really need to wear something that looks more like you belong. Those make you look like something from a romance novel cover.”

  “A what?”

  “A romance novel.” Nora walked out to the living room and pulled a book from a shelf. She held it up for Darakin to see the cover art that portrayed a well-muscled man wearing black britches and a loose, laced white blouse.

  Darakin looked at the novel and down at his clothes. “Hey, that looks like what I’m wearing.”

  “That’s my point, sweetie. These novels are about people from the past. You need some jeans to make you look more modern. Let’s go shopping.”

  “Nora, I have only a few of these dollars left and I still have to repay you for the tablecloth and the plant. I shouldn’t be making frivolous purchases.”

  “You can pay me back eventually. And trust me, this isn’t frivolous, you need to do this.”

  “Well, okay.”

  “Come on, have some breakfast and then we’ll go buy you something to wear. That way we can wash your stuff.” She poured each of them a bowl of cereal and added some milk.

  Darakin stared at the bowl in front of him. “What’s this?”

  “Cereal. Now eat.”

  “What’s it made of?”

  “Oat grain. Surely you have grains and such in your realm.”

  “Of course we do. But why is it shaped into circles?”

  Nora laughs. “Remember those machines I told you about? Well, they make the cereal shaped like this. But it’s mostly just oats, so eat.”

  Darakin took a spoonful and put it in his mouth. “Hey, thish ish pwetty good!”

  “It’s not polite to speak with your mouth full.”

  “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I’m glad you like it. What did you usually have for breakfast back home?”

  “Bread. Maybe some butter, if there was any available. And tea, of course.”

  “Well, these cereals are good for a quick meal when you’re in a hurry.”

  “Oh.” After a brief pause, Darakin continued. “So, we’re going to the tailor?”

  “No, not the tailor. Just a retail shop to buy jeans. Those are pants made of denim by machines.”

  “Oh.”

  The two finished breakfast in silence.

  Mrowley sat on one of the vacant chairs, sniffing the air with envy.