Midwest Magic Chronicles Box Set

by Flint Maxwell

  “Yes, Your Worship, I have heard.” He regretted the words as soon as they’d left his tongue. No doubt the Widow would hear this and think he was withholding information from her. She had been known to get…volatile once or twice before with those who opposed and conspired against her.

  “Dreadful news. Can my children not do anything right?”

  Jinxton fell to one knee and bowed his head to the giant spider in front of him. “I am sorry, My Queen.”

  “ ‘Sorry’ does not protect us, nor does it retrieve the music box. My beloved is waiting in the world in between.”

  “What will you have me do, My Queen?” Jinxton asked. “I will do anything.”

  Silence.

  Jinxton closed his eyes and winced, trying to brace himself for the oncoming death. He had lived this long; in his time serving as a guard to the Queen, he had seen eight other guards ripped apart in this very room. He figured it was only a matter of time before the same befell him. And now that time had come, it seemed.

  But when he opened his eyes, the Widow was still on the platform. She hadn’t moved.

  Very quietly, she spoke. “Call the Orcs.”

  Surprise took him. The only thing that could have been more surprising at that moment would’ve been getting out of there alive.

  “The Orcs, My Queen?”

  “You heard what I said. Call them.”

  “But…our treaty, My Queen.”

  “The treaty means nothing to me now. All that matters is that Ignatius Mangood dies a painful death, and the music box is in my possession, where it rightfully belongs.”

  “Who should I call? The King? Or shall I go directly to the General?”

  “The King, Jinxton. I would hate to start another war in the process of this. We are too weak for that—but not for long. Once the music box is mine, I will free the enslaved, trapped in the world in between, and I will rule this world the way I was meant to…with my king by my side.”

  Jinxton bowed his head. “As you wish, My Queen. I will send word at once.”

  “Their best trackers,” the Widow said. “As many as they can spare. I will pay their weight in gold.”

  “Yes, Your Highness.”

  With that, Jinxton left. As soon as he crossed the threshold back into the shadows, he breathed a sigh of relief. The air was musty and dank, but it had never tasted sweeter. When he had escaped the lair altogether, Cap, the other guard, looked at him with wide eyes, surprised that Jinxton had survived. Jinxton let out a laugh like that of an Arachnid tainted by the Stone and fell to his knees. Tears in his eyes, he bent over and kissed the forest floor over and over again.

  Not long after that, he sent a raven to the Orc King in the Terran Mountains, and a new plan was put into motion.

  Chapter Five

  When they arrived on the other side of the portal, Maria stuck the landing. A little wobbly, yeah, but better than landing face-first in the grass. Sherlock wasted no time in bounding across the wide open field. He galloped, moving faster than he had since the fight with Malakai, barking his head off, and shouting, Here we come, you Gnome bastards!

  “Geez, he really doesn’t like Gnomes for some reason,” Maria told her grandfather, who was standing in front of her with his hands on his hips and gazing at the night sky, which was now breaking into dawn—or whatever they called dawn on Oriceran. “Any reason why?”

  “No, none that I’m aware of,” Gramps said. He turned to look at her over his shoulder. There was a slight smile on his face. “Don’t worry, Sherlock will soon learn humility.”

  “As if that’s possible for a telepathic dog.”

  “Now is he telepathic or are you?” Gramps asked.

  “Ah, the questions that really matter; I’d assume me, because I can hear his thoughts and he can’t hear mine…or can he?” Maria took a step toward her grandfather and watched Sherlock with him. By the orange light on the horizon, she could see him jumping and snapping at various insect-like creatures that had taken flight at his arrival.

  “Ah, smart girl,” Gramps said.

  Then, out of nowhere, Sherlock shuddered to a stop. It was as if he’d hit an invisible wall. His voice filled Maria’s head.

  OWWWW, WHAT THE HELL!?

  “Sherlock? Are you okay?”

  Do I look okay?

  The answer was a definite no. Sherlock looked like a tangled up Slinky toy, his ass over his head.

  Was it a fucking Gnome? Is there a Gnome hiding somewhere? I’ll kill him, I’ll rip—

  “Not a Gnome,” Maria answered. She was just a few steps away from him now. “Do you see any Gnomes?”

  That’s why I specified…invisible Gnomes. They could be anywhere, Maria.

  She helped him up.

  “Invisibility is a myth. Not real, Sherlock.”

  But then again, magic wasn’t supposed to be real; giant spiders, either—in fact, none of this was supposed to be real.

  Gramps addressed the thoughts coming to her mind. “Oh, my dear, don’t be too sure of that. It seems Sherlock has hit not an invisible Gnome, but an invisible fence. For we are here." He looked up at seemingly nothing. "At the Light Elves' invisible castle.

  "Invisible? You can't be serious…are you?" Maria asked. This is way too fucking cool.

  He walked between them and raised a hand toward the sky.

  Maria’s mouth hung open.

  Above them, a door opened, and standing in the opening was a tall, slender but slightly muscular man…except for the long silken hair and the pointed ears. His face was a mask of unfriendliness. He was not the type of person Maria would’ve asked for directions from, had she stumbled across him while she was lost. Then she noticed that once the “door” had been opened, she was no longer looking at the vast field that had only been there seconds ago, but was looking at the inside of a monumental castle.

  What is going on here? It just gets more and more weird, doesn’t it? Maria thought to herself.

  Sherlock was equally baffled. He didn’t even bark at the tall man standing in front of them. She thought he would’ve at least stuck his snout into the door and sniffed for Gnomes. Luckily, that wasn’t the case.

  The man’s face broke out into a smile. It was a kind smile, and it changed his demeanor almost instantly. Maria noticed for the first, but not the last time that this particular man was quite handsome.

  Light Elf, Sherlock said. Almost just as bad as a Gnome. He growled low.

  “Ah,” Maria said under her breath. It made sense to her now.

  “Ignatius Mangood,” the Light Elf shouted in a high, sweet melodic voice. "Come, come, join us, old friend. Your companions, too."

  "Hold on," Gramps whispered.

  Mangood, Maria thought. After all of this, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to my grandfather’s true last name. Mangood, that sounds like something out of an epic fantasy novel. He’s always been Ignatius Apple to me, just as I’ve always been Maria Apple. Does this mean my real name is…Maria Mangood? I don’t know if I like the sound of that. "Wait…hold on?"

  Suddenly, the three of them were lifted in the air, soaring up to meet the Elf hanging from an invisible doorway in an invisible castle. Maria's fear overtook her. If they didn't slow down or stop soon, they would soon meet the distant mountains.

  Alas, they did stop, just as Maria closed her eyes.

  When she opened them, she was standing in a large shimmering room.

  Holy shit, she thought. This is crazy.

  “Where in the two moons have you been, old friend?” the Light Elf asked.

  “Earth,” Gramps answered. “I’ve been on Earth, where I would’ve stayed had certain circumstances not forced my hand.”

  “Oh, that does not sound good.”

  “It’s much worse than it sounds, actually,” Gramps said.

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Truly I am. But know you are always welcome here in our castle.” The Light Elf made a sweeping gesture to the now-nothingness behind him. Maria blinke
d a few times slowly.

  “What the heck?” she said. “I just saw the inside of the castle and now it’s gone. What kind of magic is this?”

  “There’s plenty of magic you don’t quite know yet, Maria,” Gramps said, smiling at her. “Even magic I don’t understand. That’s the beauty of Oriceran. We are surrounded by mystery, by beauty, by magic.” He looked out at the distant mountains on the horizon. Maria had never seen him look at anything like that.

  “Ah, Ignatius, you speak so poetically,” the Light Elf said. “Our sweet home.”

  As Gramps shook his head, the hazy look in his eyes vanished. It was as if he wasn’t there at all before, and was just now coming back.

  “Thank you, E’olin. Speaking of the castle, what's with the fence? That wasn't here the last time I visited, was it?”

  “We were forced to up our security after a break-in and a murder. A very important necklace was stolen.”

  Gramps raised his eyebrows.

  “No, don’t worry. A wonderful half Light Elf named Leira has helped us. Still, we’ve learned our lesson here. Better safe than sorry,” E’olin said.

  “Sorry to hear that, E’olin,” Gramps said.

  “Yes, sorry, E’olin,” Maria said softly. E’olin? More and more her life was turning into something out of The Lord of the Rings or The Wheel of Time.

  Sherlock sniffed the air deeply. Gnomes, he said. I smell them.

  “Leave the Gnomes alone, Sherlock,” Maria said.

  “Ah, yes, your friend must have a strong nose,” E’olin said. “I admire that.”

  Sherlock ignored him.

  “What do you say, Sherlock?”

  He looked up at her with his blood-rimmed eyes. There was a slight anger in them.

  “Sherlock?” Maria repeated.

  Sherlock barked a thank you.

  “What a lovely creature!” E’olin said.

  Yeah, yeah, your mother, pal, Sherlock replied.

  Maria gave him a death glare, which he promptly ignored.

  “So, Ignatius, what brings you here to our lovely home?” E’olin asked.

  Gramps shifted. “Well, about that…our friend Sherlock here speaks true. We are here to visit the Gnomes. There is certain information we need extracted.”

  “Ah, the library. A wonderful place it is. We’ve heard of beings traveling the world to visit our stacks, but never someone from another world. Earth; it’s been so long since I’ve been there. How is it these days? Do folks still travel by horseback and wield six-shooters? Oh, how I loved playing cowboy!”

  “No, you’re a couple hundred years off,” Maria said, then, “Geez, how old are you?”

  The Light Elf smirked. “It’s not polite on any world to ask one their proper age.”

  “Oh…sorry.”

  E’olin leaned over with his hand covering one side of his mouth and whispered, “Very old.”

  Maria and Gramps caught eyes. Gramps was smiling.

  “Come, come, I’ll take you to the stacks.” E’olin stepped aside. Sherlock was the first one to go inside the invisible castle, snarling.

  “Sherlock,” Maria snapped. “Behave yourself.”

  Don’t tell me what to do!

  “I saw a nice patch of vegetables a little ways back. I won’t hesitate to whip up something healthy for you to snack on,” she threatened.

  That reined him in. Maria caught up to him with Gramps behind her.

  They were walking on nothing, then, all of a sudden, they were walking on the most beautiful floor Maria had ever had laid her eyes on. It sparkled. Marble, maybe, but Maria wasn’t sure if they even had marble here on Oriceran. It was probably some kind of exotic mineral from somewhere even more exotic on the planet.

  Sweeping staircases emerged from the walls. The castle was huge; there must’ve been a hundred floors.

  “This way,” E’olin said, motioning to one of the staircases, which was also made out of the same beautiful material as the floor. “But I must warn you, if you are trying to extract information from a Gnome, you are going to be quite disappointed.”

  Two female Light Elves passed them on the steps. “Ignatius!” they said simultaneously, tittering.

  “Ladies,” Gramps said. He smiled at them and tipped an imaginary hat.

  “Not now, fair maidens,” E’olin said, shooing them down the steps. “Ignatius Mangood has business to attend to.”

  “Well, actually—” Gramps started to say.

  “Gramps.” Maria used the same voice she was so fond of using on Sherlock.

  “What?” Gramps said defensively. His arms were out in a “Who me?” gesture. “It’s not my fault I’ve still got the moves.”

  “Oh, Gramps, I really, really, really don’t need to hear about your moves,” Maria said.

  I second that. I’ve seen enough of his shirtless dancing in the mornings when he’s getting dressed and listening to the radio, Sherlock said.

  Maria burst out laughing even though that was an image she didn’t particularly want in her head.

  “Ah, Ignatius was quite the ladies’ man, wasn’t he?” E’olin mused.

  Maria plugged her ears and shook her head. “No, thank you!”

  The steps were revealing themselves one at a time to the newcomers as their shoes touched them. It was quite scary. Maria wondered if one tried running up them what would happen. Would the steps be able to keep up with her? She thought yes. The answer was simple: Magic.

  Finally, sweaty and short of breath, the group stopped at a landing. At one point, Sherlock looked as if he were going to collapse. Maria had whispered, “Gnomes,” into his ear and it hadn’t done much to perk him up at all. He was that tired. But once the prospect of a landing presented itself in front of them, Sherlock let out his growl.

  The smell is worse here, he said. Those damn Gnomes.

  “Try to keep it in your pants,” Maria said. “I know you got a thing for the Gnomes. All this growling and big bad talk is just a front. It’s okay. I understand.”

  How dare you!? I’m not even wearing pants! I can’t keep something in my pants if I’m not wearing them, Maria.

  “It’s a figure of speech.”

  Gramps and E’olin were walking ahead of them. The library revealed itself in much the same way the steps had. Maria was, surprisingly, getting used to the idea of an invisible castle that manifested itself with magic.

  Sherlock turned his head away from Maria and went after Gramps.

  I’ll show you, he said. As soon as I see a Gnome, I’m going—

  A Gnome came out of nowhere, stopping just a few feet away from Sherlock. The Bloodhound skirted to a halt abruptly, as if another invisible wall were there. The growling immediately stopped, too. They stared at each other like two gunslingers meeting in a dusty, desert street—only if Sherlock were not a gunslinger at all, but was instead a scared dog, almost three times larger than the Gnome, with his tail stuck between his legs.

  Maria had to put a hand over her mouth to hold back her laughter; Gramps and E’olin had already continued down the still-appearing corridor to the library. About five seconds later, Sherlock took to whimpering.

  “Aw, you big baby!” Maria teased, walking up to the Bloodhound.

  But then she got a good look at the Gnome. It was not what she’d expected at all. What should’ve been cute and cuddly was anything but. When someone mentioned a Gnome, Maria’s mind immediately went to one thing: Garden Gnomes, naturally. The Gnome in front of her was nothing like a garden gnome. She only knew this for sure because he opened his mouth and croaked out a curt response to the two aliens gawking at him.

  “Never seen a Gnome before? Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he said in a nasally voice. Then he scurried away on two stout legs, clutching his bowler hat to the top of his head.

  That’s right, Maria. A bowler hat, she thought to herself. What is going on with my life?

  Not just a bowler hat, but the Gnome was wearing a suit as well, like someone had
dressed him up as some kind of joke.

  “Ah,” E’olin said, spooking Maria. “That’s Grumpy…he’s one of the more vocal Gnomes.”

  “Are you sure that was a Gnome? And ‘Grumpy’? Is that really—”

  E’olin waved a hand. “No, no. His name is—” Then E’olin went on, speaking in a language Maria could not understand. “We just call him Grumpy because, well, you’ve witnessed why firsthand.”

  Maria nodded and looked at Gramps, who was standing impatiently down the hall. “He really thinks a creature like that is going to help us?”

  E’olin shrugged, as if to say Told you so.

  They walked on to meet up with Gramps, and Sherlock began growling and muttering about what he’d do if he saw another Gnome.

  I was caught off-guard, that’s all. My neck hurts from hitting the castle wall outside. I’m hungry. I need a nap.

  “Yada-yada-yada,” Maria whispered toward him.

  Maria thought seeing an invisible castle and a Gnome for the first time would be the only things to take her breath away, but she realized she was wrong as she stood in the doorway of the library.

  “H—How…?” she managed to say, her voice coming out in a wheeze.

  Gramps looked at her and shrugged, and Maria already knew what the answer would be.

  “Magic,” E’olin and Gramps said at the same time.

  The library stretched for what seemed like miles. There must be a million books…maybe even more than that!

  There were various creatures Maria couldn’t identify walking through the nearby stacks with large, leatherbound books held under their arms…or what she thought were arms. She also spotted a few more Gnomes—the little flowers on their bowler hats swaying with the movement of the wearer. Mighty fast movement, that was, too—faster than they had any right to move, given their body structure. Maria wondered then if that was also by way of magic, and she came to the conclusion it was.

  “Ignatius, I must leave you in the hands of the Gnomes.” E’olin gave Gramps a sweeping bow, and not one strand of his long, silky hair fell out of place.

  This was also what Maria thought of as magic. She would’ve given away most of her possessions to know that spell on a hot and humid day in Akron. She’d never had very well behaved hair, which was probably the reason she never tried to brush it. Maybe she could get the spell off E’olin before she went back to Earth for her date with Joe.