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

by Martha Carr

  Correk sat slowly back in the chair, listening to what she was saying. He had missed all of it. "Did the bracelet do its job?"

  Fuck... Leira might not tell Correk everything but she wouldn't lie to him. "Mostly. Took it off because I had to. Got the bracelet back on and won't be taking it off again anytime soon. Not a smart idea. But that's not even the part I wanted to tell you."

  "Wait, what?" He slid forward to the edge of the seat but Leira was on a roll and kept talking.

  "I went to the sanctuary to see Perrom and get some answers." She brushed her dark bangs off her forehead. "Fuck, I'm not explaining this well."

  "You're doing fine." I don't want to leave her... but it's time to go. He put his hands together in front of his chest, lacing his fingers together.

  She stopped right in front of the television. "Hey!" barked the troll. "Move it or lose it!"

  Leira arched an eyebrow at him and took a step to the side.

  "He believes he's watching an instructional video. Like job training," said Correk.

  "For what, moody posing in a rubber costume?"

  "You saw Perrom?" He was helping her get back on track, watching her move, realizing she was turning to him because she trusted him. We have all changed when we weren't looking.

  "Yes, I saw Perrom," she said, pointing at him. "I went to the sanctuary to get answers to something. This bracelet is pulling in energy of a different kind, or maybe it's me. I keep feeling this connection whenever I'm close to the modified animals."

  "Is that what we're calling it now?"

  "Have to call that nightmare something. Perrom took me to where the rescued animals were being held and I felt it again. A connection!"

  "You don't normally get this excited."

  Can't jump to the end of this story. He'll never hear the rest of what I'm saying, if I do. "I touched the artifact connected to one of the animals. It was almost by accident and when I did I felt a surge of dark magic pour through me, almost as large as the light source. I could even hear the sound in my ears like it was real."

  Correk sat forward, tensing his muscles. "It was real. You don't see electricity but you know it's there. Darkness passed through you. Are you alright?"

  He's focused on me. Not going to be the point in about two minutes. Leira's eyes widened as she put up her hands. "The light joined the darkness, modulating it. The two joined together like one stream for just a few minutes. Might have been longer. Inside the stream time doesn't seem relevant. I saw things. A large estate somewhere, two of them, I think. There were Witches and Wizards gathering. I think it was the old families who still practice dark magic. Lacey said they're pissed off about human beings messing in their territory and turns out they're surprisingly proactive and really well organized. An anti-Silver Griffins. The magic showed me that down in some kind of basement from another era there was a... can't think of a better word than beast. Fur, fangs, stood upright and really angry, pulling at the chain around its ankle. I think it's living in one of the old homes." Reel out the rest of the story.

  "Like an eight-foot troll kind of beast?"

  Leira looked back at the five-inch troll who smiled up at her, showing all his tiny sharp teeth.

  "No, more gruesome but maybe that's because I know Yumfuck is on my side."

  "How do you know what the beast is for?"

  "That's why I was looking for you. I couldn't tell if that was past or present. Time bent back on itself. But he was wearing around his neck an old talisman with an infinity symbol on it."

  Correk felt a chill move through him. "Old dark magic. Rhazdon's old symbol. It must have been a powerful artifact filled with dark magic."

  "Yes, that's the dark stream that ran through me like I was a conduit for it. I became a human wand. It was ancient from before the gates opened the last time. Inside of the magic I knew what they were planning to do with him. They're building their own army of monsters to hold back the humans." Leira gripped Correk by the shoulders, her eyes widening from wonder at the horror she had seen and felt. "Right before the magic ripped me back and split apart, I saw something." She squeezed his shoulders, feeling the full measure of what dark magic could do in the wrong hands. "It changes everything and we have to stop it before they can do it again. The beast... it shifted. I saw the beast become a man. Fuck." Leira took in a deep breath, nausea coming over her as she remembered the vision. "They're using people against themselves turning them into fucking beasts."

  "That's not possible." There was an edge to Correk's voice and his expression turned to stone.

  "Apparently it is because I saw it and I felt it." Leira swallowed hard.

  "They've unlocked the worst kind of magic. Rhazdon must have stolen it from the Gnomes' vault when she broke into it. The balance of power may be shifting."

  "Lacey called it. The old families are afraid that power could tilt away from them and they're ready to go there in order to keep it, or gain more. They're afraid of what the humans might figure out on their own and they've found a way to scare them back into their cages."

  "That won't work. People will bring out a bigger weapon and start a war. Hunt the magical community if they have to. Human beings don't take well to someone hunting them."

  "I knew you'd understand. We need to tell Turner Underwood and come up with a plan."

  "Don't you mean tell General Anderson?"

  "No, not yet. I can't tell him exactly where I saw the house or how many houses and I got the very real impression there's already more than one prototype. More than one beast, and not all the same. They're doing their own experimenting but with even darker intentions, if you can believe that. I keep thinking of a piece of advice Lois gave me early on that human beings have their limits when it comes to our kind. If he knew that humans were part of the experimentation all of our roles become different. He would feel compelled to tell others. Dark forces like Axiom would actually work with the government to stop it. Everything would become jumbled. I'd prefer not to get to chaos just yet, if I can help it. But I need your help if we're going to rein this in before it gets any further."

  The troll leaned over to give Correk a wink even as he stood up, listening in on the conversation. He hopped down and went over to Leira who scooped him and put him on her shoulder. Correk didn't look in his direction and focused on Leira, grimacing.

  "Turner Underwood went out for the night. He wouldn't tell me any more than that but he'll be back soon. Till then, we can spread the word among the kemanas. The old families are no friends of other Oricerans living on this world. They will run through the underground cities creating havoc if it helps them with their mission. And the beings who live underground can act as our lookouts, letting us know if they see things."

  "All over the world."

  "That's the idea. This will take some organization and planning."

  "We need to find Turner and come up with a plan. If we don't stop them this will make the prophets right but not in the way they expected. The gates will open to mayhem." Leira took out her buzzing phone and looked down. "It's my mother again. She keeps calling but not leaving a message. We should probably get over there. Who knows what else has blown up."

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Turner Underwood was traveling to a kemana located under Paris. The entrance was near the Eiffel Tower that stood over the kemana like a giant iron antennae. It was built by the local magical community in the late 19th century and over the decades that followed different groups filled it with their own little bits of magic as a way to leave something of themselves behind in Paris. He went to the patisserie just down the street and waved to the owner who gave him a begrudging grunt and a nod as he passed through to the back, picking up a hard roll still warm from the oven as he went by.

  He got to the old kitchen that had ovens lining one of the walls. Most of them had been modernized but there was still one tall oven with a black iron front that had been in use for just over a hundred years and was said to put out the best baguette
s. Turner pocketed the roll as his eyes glowed briefly and he whispered an ancient spell given only to the most trusted of magical customers. An old Norse spell from thousands of years ago.

  "Hniga dyrr soemiligr landi."

  The front of the oven creaked and easily opened, hinged like a door, revealing a staircase behind it that descended into the Earth. There were lanterns lit near the top to guide the way as Turner knocked his cane against each step and the oven closed behind him.

  The bakers standing around in the kitchen wearing grey aprons covered in flour barely noticed except to look up and see if it might be a friend. Beings had been using the shop since the tower was erected and the shop was built as an entrance. An older, redheaded baker with a cigarette firmly clenched in his teeth smiled as he saw who it was and went back to pounding out the dough, rolling it over as he blew a perfect O into the air.

  Turner walked steadily down the stairs, placing the cane on the step below and stepping down, one after the other. The descent was a mile into the ground alongside a dazzling yellow crystal. Many believed it was what gave Parisians so many inspired ideas about art and fashion and literature. Turner knew he was getting close when the lanterns gave way to the natural light given off by the pieces of the rock buried into the wall every few feet. It gave everything a warm, golden glow.

  Leira and Correk had caught up with him just as he was coming home from his date, singing a bit of the song he had heard earlier that night at Cheer Up Charlie's on Red River not too far from downtown Austin. He saw their grim faces, waiting patiently, leaning against the green Mustang and knew there was trouble.

  He frowned, tapping his cane hard against the next step, remembering what Leira had told him. "They've crossed a line!" he shouted to no one in particular. His words echoed off the walls and floated out into the opening that was getting closer.

  "There has always been an unwritten rule for the benefit of all of us! You leave humans out of it!" Anger plowed up through his chest making it hard for him to concentrate or to breathe deeply. For thousands of years purveyors of magic had agreed to the rule, despite whether they dabbled in the light or the darkness. "We can blow each other up, torture each other, concoct whatever horrible spells we want to but no one touches the native population!" He bellowed, his chin quivering with anger, shaking his fists.

  Only once before had anyone thought to menace the natives of the planet. The Atlanteans and their arrogance had spilled over and they meddled in local affairs, manipulating people. It didn't end well and the Atlanteans fled, went underground or were wiped off the map. Their kingdom was destroyed and sunk to the bottom of the cold ocean floor, eventually forgotten by time.

  Turner collected himself, pausing on a step as he took a deep breath, held it and let it out, remembering his morning meditations by the lake. He pressed down his purple tie, making sure the pearl tie clip was still firmly in place, and steadied his homburg, waiting till he was calm enough to walk through the crowds without being noticed. "Let's do this."

  He took the last steps and wandered into the French street scene that closely resembled what was going on upstairs with Kilomeas and Gnomes and Elves sitting at outdoor cafes, smoking little cigarettes and drinking endless cups of dark coffee arguing about the state of affairs. A pixie flitted by, close to Turner's head on her way to the cheese shop. Two smaller pixies floated by in her wake, following right behind her.

  The aroma floated out of the open door from the shop and caught Turner off guard making him instantly relax. He made a mental note to stop in there before returning to the topside. This city always did that to him, above or below ground. He could lose himself here for days and look at art or listen to people argue passionately about whether or not graphic novels were really novels or if coffee was better than wine.

  "It's not all happening today. There's still time," he muttered to himself.

  "Flowers?" An older gnome held up purple lilies wrapped in green wax paper, her other hand stretched out. Turner pulled out a small gold coin and placed it in the center of her palm, taking the flowers. This is better. I won't arrive completely empty handed when I share the dire news.

  He passed down the street, marveling at the parts of the Eiffel Tower that were below ground and most never got to see as he passed around to the left and took a side street that quickly turned into three-story walk ups that were renovated in recent years. The Willens that had lived in them for generations sold them for gold coins and were happy to move further down the street to let the Elves move in and redo everything. "Circle of commerce," muttered Turner looking up at a red brick building with a black door as an Elven father could be seen through the window lifting his small son in the air, making him laugh. "Might as well be the circle of life."

  A Willen in a worn printed silk black jacket hurried past him, the sound of metal clinking together from deep within the folds of his skin as he scurried down the road. Turner made a point to keep his distance, not wanting to lose his wallet without even knowing it. The Willen tipped his beret in Turner's direction and he returned the salutation, putting his other hand inside his coat to see if his belongings were still there, just to be sure. "Such clever creatures."

  He traveled even further into the older section, tapping his cane against the older pavers that still lined the roads in that part of the underground city. They had held up remarkably well even after hundreds of years. Pieces of the crystal were set into tall street lamps, lighting the way with the same golden light, giving the illusion of early evening.

  He turned down a narrow road between two houses, coming to a wrought iron gate, concealed by overgrown wisteria vines that were threatening to swallow it. Purple blossoms hung heavy over the top, hiding the latch. He lifted the vines and slipped underneath, lifting the old latch and started up the path that would lead him into a lonely part of the underground city.

  The old mystic who lived at the top of the road would know someone was coming long before they got there and she would prepare for their visit. She never received many visitors and knew long in advance who was coming and often had visions of what they wanted to tell her. It no longer surprised him when she told him what he needed to know before he had a chance to lay out his problem.

  Over the years he had made fewer visits, consumed by his work as the Fixer. He looked down at the date on his watch, calculating how long it had been since his last visit. "Too long since I've made the journey." At some point he would have to bring Correk here and make the introductions for him to this woman. "That should blow his fucking mind all the way back to Oriceran." Turner Underwood chuckled despite the gravity of what brought him to this door.

  He walked up the few worn wooden steps and got to the large carved door that portrayed mermaids swimming up to the edge of the large pane in the middle. He leaned to the right and turned the brass key on the side of the door, letting out a loud, tinny ring. He stood back and patiently waited, watching the old woman shuffle toward the door through the large pane in the center. Her hair was long and silver even when he was a young Elf and was first introduced to her back when he served as an apprentice to the last Fixer almost eight hundred years ago. It was a different world.

  She opened the heavy door easily, despite her age of thousands of years and smiled brightly, her teeth worn down to nubs and her face a sea of wrinkles. "You've come for a visit!" Turner once again gazed upon the face of Tess the seer, the prophet of Oriceran. "So many revere you and believe you're long dead, lost to history. Looking rather good for a dead woman!" It was their old greeting that always got a laugh from Tess.

  "Somehow, the mailman still finds me."

  She reached out with her hands to feel his face, her milky blue eyes staring straight ahead. He felt her cold, bony fingers trace his forehead and swoop down his long nose, running lightly across his cheek bones.

  "It's more than a social call." Turner waited till she was satisfied that she knew how he was doing and had taken his energetic pulse through her fingertips.
He took her hand, placing the purple lilies in her hands. She put her face in the center of them feeling the soft petals against her cheek. "What a wonderful surprise!"

  She stepped back so he could come into her house. It was where she had settled and lived since the last time the gates closed between the two worlds. Almost 25,800 years ago when she was just a small girl.

  The human spark inside of her DNA was transmuted by the magic from Oriceran in a way no one had ever seen before or since, pouring images into her mind of events that were to take place in the distant future. Something magic could never do and made people fear her as well as draw closer, wanting to hear more. But what gave her inner vision also took her sight, leaving her blind. The gift also took her privacy. She retreated from the clamor of both worlds and sought refuge tucked in a corner of an underground city.

  Turner was a lot more brash when he was younger and asked her endless questions that had nothing to do with anything and she had entertained them all with patience. "Why is your house so bare?" He looked around, realizing the house was just as plainly decorated with nothing hanging on the walls, no mementos anywhere, as the last time he had been there.

  "You get knickknacks for your walls and your side tables so you can admire them with your eyes. I'm afraid all that is lost on me. Not to worry. I have a very colorful life in here." She had patiently tapped the side of her head. "I see in full color with light and sound. It's quite a show!"

  Turner followed Tess back to the parlor that was just off the kitchen. Both of them were older now. He took his familiar seat at the table on an old metal chair with a padded vinyl seat. "I'm going to get you a few magnets for your refrigerator. Something with scratch 'n sniff so there's something in it for you."