Enemies of Magic: The Revelations of Oriceran (The Leira Chronicles Book 7)

by Martha Carr

  CONTENTS

  LMBPN

  Dedication

  Legal

  Oriceran Map - USA

  Oriceran Map

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Author Notes - Martha Carr

  Author Notes - Michael Anderle

  Social Links

  Books by Martha Carr

  Books by Michael Anderle

  Enemies of Magic

  The Leira Chronicles Book 7

  By Martha Carr and Michael Anderle

  A part of

  The Revelations of Oriceran Universe

  Written and Created

  by Michael Anderle & Martha Carr

  The Oriceran Universe

  (and what happens within / characters / situations / worlds) are

  Copyright (c) 2017-2018 by Martha Carr and LMPBN Publishing.

  DEDICATION

  From Martha

  To everyone who still believes in magic

  and all the possibilities that holds.

  To all the readers who make this

  entire ride so much fun.

  And to my son, Louie and the wonderful Katie

  who remind me all the time of what

  really matters and how wonderful

  life can be in any given moment.

  From Michael

  To Family, Friends and

  Those Who Love

  To Read.

  May We All Enjoy Grace

  To Live The Life We Are

  Called.

  ENEMIES OF MAGIC Team

  JIT Beta Readers

  Joshua Ahles

  Micky Cocker

  Kelly O’Donnell

  Larry Omans

  James Caplan

  Edward Rosenfeld

  Sarah Weir

  Peter Manis

  Thomas Ogden

  Erika Everest

  If we’ve missed anyone, please let us know!

  ENEMIES OF MAGIC (this book) is a work of fiction.

  All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.

  This book Copyright © 2018 Martha Carr and Michael T. Anderle

  Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing

  LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact info@kurtherianbooks.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  LMBPN Publishing

  PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy

  Las Vegas, NV 89109

  First US edition, March 2018

  The Oriceran (and what happens within / characters / situations / worlds) are Copyright (c) 2017-18 by Martha Carr and LMPBN Publishing.

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  CHAPTER ONE

  Correk felt the last shivers of magic drain away from Leira. He looked at the smile on her face and thought twice about saying anything. "Fuck it." He took her by the arm, walking away from the others across the grass of Turner's velvety lawn.

  Leira's smile grew broader. "Correk, did you just say fuck? Wow, I am really rubbing off on you." She put her hands on her hips, standing straighter as the bracelet slid down her wrist, resting against her hand.

  He was flustered, searching for the right words. "You didn't cure a disease, you can stand down. No parade is coming."

  "No, but I managed to remove a stick." Her laugh came out easy and relaxed. "Why are you still holding on to my arm, big guy?" She looked down at her arm and up at Correk, a crooked smile on her face. Correk's fingers were pressing into her arm.

  Jackson watched them from afar as Turner went on about the present state of magic on Earth. He was barely listening, giving an occasional "Uh huh." His focus was on his newly found daughter and the way she looked at the tall Elf.

  Correk reluctantly dropped his hand, letting his fingers graze her hand. "You heard what Turner Underwood said. This is only a temporary fix." He leaned in closer to make his point. "And one that could fail." Please take it seriously.

  "I can read your mind by that wrinkle across your forehead. I'm taking it seriously." She tapped the side of her head. "Well aware that things could go south at any moment. That's been the message from the very beginning when you and the King made a sudden visit at the hospital." The smile faded a little from her face. "Frankly, long before that day. Remember, I grew up with a mother that was supposed to be crazy and then had my grandmother disappear without a trace one day. I know things can suddenly change." She took a step back a step, holding her hands out wide at her side. "For this one moment, right here, I'm going to enjoy this feeling because the reverse is also true. Dammit, things can also weirdly go right. I'm not asking you to give me this one, Correk. It's mine and I'm claiming it."

  Correk smiled despite his growing concern, the wrinkles deepening around his eyes. "A form of deadly optimism."

  Turner snapped his fingers in front of Jackson's face, close to his eyes, startling him. He stumbled back a step and blushed right up to his pointed ears, visible through his long hair. "Snap out of it! She's grown already and probably better at handling tricky situations than you are."

  Jackson rubbed the back of his neck, feeling sheepish. "That goes without saying. She's a marvel but that's what I'd expect from a Berens woman."

  "One more reminder for you. Eireka is happy, finally. She's earned it." He held up his hand to stop Jackson and tapped his cane hard against the floor. "Doesn't matter that this wasn't exactly your doing. Fifteen years in a mental hospital because she told the world that magic is real. Let her have this peace."

  Jackson took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "It will take some time to adjust to having so much more and all at an arm’s length."

  Turner clapped his hand down on Jackson's shoulder. "Well said, my friend. What, you're surprised? Yes, we're friends, we have been all along. Your stubborn streak got in the way but in the end, I came to see that you made the right decision. You were never meant to be a Fixer."

  Leira's ears perked up and she caught the last words. "You were supposed to be a Fixer?"

  Jackson walked closer toward Leira despite Turner clearing his throat in the background. "Once upon a time I was a rising star in Elven land. It was a long time ago in a
land far, far away." Jackson swallowed hard, watching his daughter laugh. His eyes shined for a moment, wet with tears as he blinked, hiding the sadness rising in his throat. He smiled and looked at her. At least she's happy. Now, if we can all help her learn how to be safe.

  "I was a student of Turner Underwood's, much like you,” said Jackson. “I'm afraid I flunked out at some point and went my own way. It was a moment in time when Turner was still willing to mentor the occasional Elf on Oriceran. Never liked venturing too far from home. My dog needs me." And I met Eireka and thought my life was going in a completely different direction.

  "If we can break up the storytelling and get back to the work at hand." Turner leaned forward on his cane as he grew solemn. "There are a few troubling developments that can't be overlooked and are out of the Silver Griffins purview. The first being the local population's desire to grab artifacts and use them to create a Frankenstein kind of magic."

  "You mean the people of Earth. Quite a large local population." Leira ran her hand through her dark bangs. The bracelet glimmered briefly, unnoticed as Leira felt a pang of something strange pass through her from somewhere else. She gave a slight shake to her head. What the fuck was that? Ignore it for now. Too many helping hands right in front of me. "You wave something like unlimited power under human beings' noses and they tend to go ga-ga. It's an aphrodisiac to them. Mix in the possibility of living a helluva lot longer and their motivation goes through the roof in a very dark way. General Anderson has been filling me and Hagan in on reports that a few rogue companies think they can come up with some magic elixir or machine. It's the Sneetches come to life."

  All three Elves looked at her with puzzled expressions.

  "Oh, come on. Sneetches? Dr. Seuss? Horton hearing that Who. Thought for sure that guy was an Elf or some kind of Wizard. You're playing with me, right? Some have stars on their bellies. When the dude couldn't make something rhyme he made up the word! All that weird shit he came up with and none of it was from magic. Wow..."

  "It's like you stroke out on occasion." Correk hid his smile behind his fist as he pretended to cough.

  "I know what I'm getting all of you for Christmas. Hell, I may not wait that long! You are missing out on Yertle and green eggs and the pants with nobody inside of them." She said the last part in a spooky voice, holding up her hands by her face and waggling her fingers, her eyes wide. "Okay, I give." She dropped her hands. "Bottom line is human beings have a strange fascination with living longer that stretches way back to when they first showed up on this planet. That wrinkle may be tougher to pull them away from than any other."

  Correk crossed his arms. "Then the idea needs to be contained and squashed as fast as possible."

  Turner finished the thought. "Before the idea leaks out to the populace at large and takes hold as even a hint of a possibility."

  "And becomes something on the 'as seen on TV' aisle," Correk added.

  Leira gave him a crooked smile. "I really have rubbed off on you. Taught you a few valuable things about my world. Yes, this is my world. Doesn't matter where my ancestors came from. This planet has a way of growing on you and then there's Texas... But this particular fight is not yours, gentlemen. Not one of you comes from Earth in any way shape or form. Closest would be Turner, and you have other things to do." Leira nodded in Correk's direction. "This is PDF business, at least for now. There's already too many beings of every kind wrapped up in the artifacts war. This country actually does have a dog in this fight and General Anderson is already expecting the PDF to spearhead the battle."

  "You'll ask if you need help?" Jackson wrinkled his forehead even as he marveled at Leira's calm command.

  "Cross my heart," she said, making an X across the left side of her chest.

  "We have other things to attend to, Correk. There's a lot to learn if you're to be the next Fixer and not as much time as I'd like." Turner took out a linen handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped his forehead, sliding it back into his pocket. Leira saw a glimmer of how tired the elderly Elf was becoming but knew better than to say anything. Let him call his own shots. If he needs help, he'll ask.

  "I could help you two, you know," said Jackson. "It's either that or I'm going sightseeing around town."

  Turner looked him up and down. "You have a point. There's still enough people who think the idea of magic is just a reality show headline without much merit."

  "I'm honored that you think I could be the tipping point into the truth all by myself."

  "Wouldn't be the first time," huffed Turner.

  "I can tell there's a few good stories I'd like to hear," said Leira. "That will have to wait for another father and daughter moment. Maybe we can cook up s'mores by the guest house one of these days."

  "Finally, something I'm familiar with. A good s'more. I've made my share of those over a campfire."

  "Of course, you know what those are... What is it with cheap and easy food and Elves?" Leira tilted her head and smiled. A surge passed through her again. A feeling she didn't recognize. The jewel in the bracelet dimly glowed. She let it pass through, not calling on magic. No need to alert the forces and let my eyes glow. Dead giveaway there's a ghost in the system. What was that? Felt like something was reaching out to me for help.

  Turner doffed his hat and dipped it as he said goodbye. "We will meet again, Leira for another lesson. Till then, gentlemen follow me."

  Correk hesitated, wanting to say something to Leira but he could feel the eyes of Turner and Jackson watching him. "Pizza later?”

  "Sounds good. We can ask my mother and Nana if they want to go."

  Correk opened his mouth to say something but stopped. Jackson let out a snort of laughter behind him. "Why was I worried?" he muttered to himself as Turner poked him hard in the side with the head of his cane.

  "Sure," Correk finally said, as he patted Leira's shoulder. She looked at him puzzled and patted him back, tapping him on the shoulder.

  "Okay, then." She shrugged, waiting for him to say something more.

  "Interesting mating rituals on Earth," Jackson whispered. "Battling dark forces with moments of terror followed by awkward jokes. Not sure which one inflicts greater pain. It's like they're each other's chastity belt." He let out another snort. "I suppose that should make me feel relieved."

  "Come on, Correk. We're burning daylight. Leira, you're distracting my pupil. Time for you to go." He waved his hands at her.

  Leira looked from Correk to Turner, her brows knit together. "Pizza later," she said, and turned to go.

  Jackson rolled his eyes and slapped Correk on the back. "I know what lesson we should start with or you're going to be a very lonely Elf. Not a good look on a Fixer."

  "Fuck off, Jackson."

  Turner rocked back on his heels and let out a deep, throaty laugh. "You'll be just fine, Correk."

  CHAPTER TWO

  "Shake it off, Correk. Feelings may fuel magic, but they can also distract." Turner's pocket buzzed and he reached inside his suit jacket for his phone, holding up a finger to Correk. "Hang on." He turned his back and listened closely.

  Jackson had draped himself over one of the heavy patio chairs, his leg hanging over the armrest. "The Fixer gets phone calls to alert him. Not quite as glamorous as you expected, is it?"

  Correk studied Jackson, his muscled arms folded across his chest. "I don't see the resemblance. Any chance Mara made a mistake?"

  Jackson swung his leg around to the front, a scowl growing on his face. He curled his hands into fists as Correk arched an eyebrow. Let him go first.

  "Break it up! Nothing worse than Elven hormones." Turner put his phone away, shaking his head in frustration. "One of the problems with a thousand years of life. You can be a juvenile ass for so much longer. Jackson, stay here if you want and my chef will feed you some of the best Tex-Mex you're going to find while you're on this planet. He has some brisket from Full House BBQ in Georgetown. Melt in your mouth."

  "I know that's your way of saying, ke
ep my ass planted right here."

  "If I wanted your ass to stay here, I'd make it happen." Turner raised his voice as he waved his arm in frustration, a stream of blue light jetting across the lawn of his estate, knocking Jackson back against the chair. He whipped around and glared at Correk who held up his hands, pressing his lips together and easily seeing it was in his best interests to stay silent.

  Jackson's eyes immediately glowed and anger swept through him as he whipped out his hands to create a fireball but quickly thought better of it and pulled back, his arms vibrating from the effort.

  "Still a short fuse, I see..." Turner shut his eyes and lifted his chin, breathing in deeply.

  "More of your chai?" Jackson felt a dull ache in his back but did nothing to let on he was smarting.

  "I think he calls it chi." Correk's eyes were narrowed.

  "Don't assume you can help me or know anything about me," snapped Jackson. "You and I have nothing in common."

  "Except a very clever Elven woman named Leira." Turner opened his eyes.

  "I always could ruffle your feathers better than most. That has to be worth something."

  "That's not magic. Just an astute eye mixed with your strong desire to play the jackass most of the time. You were a gifted student."

  "Not healthy to live with regret, Turner." Jackson felt the wince from his own words. Turner noticed but chose to look away.

  "Jackson, those words are very true. We may possess great magical power literally at our fingertips." He held out his hands and lit up the tips of his fingers in different colors, tapping each one as they played out a different chord, creating a soothing tune. "But even we can never change the past. If you have regrets about what came before, your part in it, then I suggest you make an amends to everyone, including yourself."

  Jackson let out an annoyed snort as Correk quietly watched the two Elves, interested in the answer to healing the past.