Midwest Magic Chronicles Box Set

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Midwest Magic Chronicles Box Set Page 65

by Flint Maxwell


  “I named no names. It is just a thought. We must trust no one but each other, Maria. The enemy is vast. They know no bounds.”

  She shook her head. He’s not in his right mind, and he expects to go to Oriceran, to the grave of his only daughter, dig her up, and be successful? No, I need to accompany him.

  “I know what you are thinking, Maria. I’m fine. A little shaken and a little toasted, but otherwise fine. I can do this on my own,” Gramps said. It was eerie how he could read her mind sometimes. “I should do this on my own. Zimmy was my daughter, and I failed her—”

  “Gramps, don’t say that. You didn’t fail her. She was murdered; it wasn’t your fault.”

  Gramps hung his head, ignoring her pardon, and continued. “Not only did I fail her, but I failed Dominion, my king—your father—and the villagers trapped in the world in between. But I won’t fail you. I won’t let you get hurt. I will protect you until this task is completed, and those villagers are free of their chains.”

  She hugged her grandfather, not letting him get another word in edgewise. Caught by surprise, he hugged her back.

  “Aw, my dear, sweet Maria. You melt an old man’s stony heart, you know that?”

  “I am coming with you, Gramps. That’s final.”

  He smiled. It was a somber smile; he was not letting up. He would stand his ground. Maria saw that as plain as she had seen a dragon rise up from Lake Fever.

  “I will tell you what,” Gramps said after a moment of intense staring. “You cannot accompany me on this journey, but I’ll not go alone.”

  Maria narrowed her eyes.

  “Salem and I have talked; he has agreed to provide the necessary backup in case of an ambush.”

  Maria smiled.

  It was not a genuine smile, but it deceived her grandfather. He patted her on the shoulder. “There, there, does that not cheer you up so?”

  Maria nodded. “It’s better than nothing, but I should still be coming with you. I’m powerful, and I’m learning how to control that power enough to be effective.”

  Gramps laughed. It was a nice sound, after all the gloom. “ Effective? Maria, you are far more than ‘effective’ at this point. Not one living soul on Oriceran—at least to my knowledge—can say that they have tamed a Rogue Dragon, nor survived the Trials of Antenele. You are beyond ‘effective’. You are beyond ‘powerful’. That is why you are so precious—not only to me, because I love you, dear, but to all of the worlds. If evil gets out of hand, Maria Apple will be there to stomp it back in its place. If the gates open and the undesirables flood Earth, Maria Apple will be there to turn them back. If the—”

  She held up a hand and nodded, her face reddening. “Okay, okay, I get it, Gramps.”

  “I don’t know if you truly do, Maria. That is why I cannot have you accompanying me on this task.”

  “But I can ride a freaking dragon and that’s perfectly okay?”

  Gramps sighed as he lowered himself into the nearest chair. His knees popped with the movement, and the sigh turned into exclamations of pain and shock. “Getting old, getting old,” he murmured before he turned his attention back on Maria. “If it was up to me, I wouldn’t have let you ride that dragon.”

  “It was up to you! You could’ve stopped me,” she argued.

  “No, I’m afraid I couldn’t. Once you set your mind on something, you don’t give up.”

  “Is that a veiled comment of approval?” Maria asked.

  Gramps arched his eyebrow. “What? No! No! I mean it when I say you can’t come with me. That’s final.”

  “Hmm,” she mused, bringing a hand up to her chin. She was not surprised to spot soot beneath her fingernails. “We’ll see about that.”

  “I mean it,” Gramps warned. “If I see you on Oriceran before it is time for us to take on the Widow, then…”

  “Then what?” Maria challenged. Her tone was playful. She was just kidding around, but when he answered, his tone was deadly serious.

  “Then…then I’ll ground you, Maria! I mean it!”

  I’m a ‘beyond powerful’ witch, and he wants to ground me? Maria rolled her eyes, and her gaze fell on something from the chest. It was a sketch of a tall and lithe young man. He was dressed in red robes that reminded Maria of the garb the soldiers in Duke’s memory had worn, except this was not a soldier’s uniform. No, these were the clothes of a commoner.

  Maria picked up the drawing. It seemed so lifelike; her grandfather had quite a talent when it came to drawing and sculpting and other forms of artistry. His room was chock full of sketches just like these, of landscapes carved from wood, and of paintings of great battle scenes.

  “Who is this?” Maria asked.

  “Huh?” Gramps turned to see what she was holding. When he saw, he smiled. That’s a genuine smile. His eyes glazed over with a hazy memory. “Oh, that is Matimus. We called him ‘Mat’ for short.”

  “This…this is a real person?”

  “Well, no, Maria, that is a drawing.” He snapped his fingers inches away from Maria’s eyes, probably seeing if they would dilate and contract. “Are you sure you’re okay? That battle didn’t inflict permanent damage upon you, did it?”

  She pushed his hand away and again rolled the eyes he’d been so close to. “I’m fine, Gramps, and you know what I meant. This Matimus was from Dominion?”

  “Yes, he was the finest treasurer in all the land,” Gramps answered. “One of my closest friends, as well.”

  “Treasurer? I didn’t think Dominion would need a treasurer,” Maria began. Then she thought back to her visit to the town’s ruins, and to the vision she had during the final stage of the Trials of Antenele. “I guess I didn’t think Dominion needed a king or a castle, either. Now that I think of it, I didn’t think they’d need an army.”

  Gramps nodded. “Oh, you’d be surprised what we needed—especially being so close to the Dark Forest. The first settlers of Dominion were nothing but sitting ducks to the beasts that inhabited the forest. And as for your father—think of his royal title as no more than a small town mayor. It was only when the Arachnids started attacking that his job became almost too much to handle.”

  “But he handled it.” It wasn’t a question.

  Gramps nodded. “He did. We all did. If it weren’t for the traitorous ways of Malakai—my own friend, my own kin—we would not be having this conversation. I would probably never have come to live permanently on Earth, and your mother and father would both most likely be alive.” A great sadness tugged at the corners of Gramps’s eyes. He looked longingly down at his sketch. “Matimus would be alive and well, and so would Magni, Charles, Deanna, and so many more of my friends who I lost. No, not friends…family.”

  Maria smiled somberly. “But we are having this conversation. We are here, we are alive, we are healthy, and we have the music box.” She patted the bag containing the artifact. “With it and the Jewel of Deception, we will see your family again.”

  “So much like your mother,” Gramps said. He placed the sketch of Matimus back in the chest and brought out others. There was a young woman with long, golden hair. She wore a permanent grin on her face. “This is Deanna,” he informed her. “She was a doctor, the town’s finest healer.” Then came another sketch; this one of two people standing side by side, a man and a woman. The man had his arm around the woman’s shoulders, while the woman wrapped hers around the man’s waist. “Magni,” Gramps pointed to the woman. “And this fine lad is Charles. They were young and so in love. I’ve not seen a love as pure as theirs in all of my life.”

  Maria’s own sadness came over her. “Did they make it? I mean…did my mom put them in the world in between?”

  “As inseparable as they were,” Gramps began, tears glistening on the surface of his eyes, ready to spill down his cheeks, “I’m afraid they were separated when the battle took place. Charles was not part of those of us who guarded the king, but he volunteered to fight—along with many of the other able men in town. He was killed in the
sacking of the gate. I witnessed it myself.” Now Gramps swiped at his eyes, stopping the tears before they could fall.

  “And Magni?”

  “She was put into the world in between, yes,” Gramps said. “What good that did her, or any of the others inside. They were not meant to be in there for as long as they have been. Yes, time does not work the same in the world in between, but that place will certainly take a toll on the fine minds such as those that made Dominion as wonderful as it was.”

  “Don’t say that, Gramps,” Maria said. She picked up the sketch of Magni and Charles. “You have to have hope. Without hope, we’re nothing. We’ve failed before we can even start.”

  Gramps nodded. “You are right. I never thought I’d see the day where my granddaughter, not even two decades old, would impart such sage wisdom on an old wizard like myself. I am proud of you, Maria; more proud than I can put into words. What you’ve done, what you’ve accomplished in such a short span of time, is amazing.”

  “I learned from the best,” she said, smiling.

  Gramps couldn’t stop the tears this time. They fell freely and fast. Maria teared up a bit, too.

  After a moment, she picked up another sketch and said, “Tell me about her, Gramps.”

  “Gladly.” And he went on and on about the citizens of Dominion. He spoke with such a passion that Maria was reminded of the bedtime stories he had told her every night to help her fall asleep or to forget a particularly nasty dream.

  There was Kira, a beautiful redheaded woman. Her talent was art. People would come from miles away to have Kira paint their portraits. It is said that even the Light Elves’ king had once commissioned a portrait of the Fall of Rhazdon many years ago. Kira refused payment, but the Light Elves, wonderful people they are, insisted. That payment was enough to feed Kira and her family for many moons.

  Then there was Sage, a young woman near Maria’s age. She had naturally curly blonde hair and a smile that would light up the room. She was, according to Gramps, a woman of many talents, but the talent that touched the people of Dominion the deepest was her affinity for humor. She could make the stoniest Orc crack a smile.

  Then there was Parmella: a witch who, upon first look at Gramps’s sketch, was a woman in her late thirties. However, Gramps told Maria that Parmella was one of the oldest witches in the village. Her natural beauty was not a spell—she had just aged as gracefully as anyone in Oriceran. Many thought she was part Light Elf, but Parmella always denied it. Despite her youthful appearance, her wisdom knew no bounds. The king often called upon her for counsel; she was one of the few citizens who could say they had that honor. Gramps smiled and mentioned, “Oh yes, and she made the most delicious chocolate chip cookies I’ve ever had the pleasure of eating.”

  And there was Michein, a young woman whose silky blonde hair stretched nearly to the backs of her ankles. In Gramps’s sketch, her smile popped off of the page. Michein was the town animal lover. It was said she lived with as many animals as there were in the neighboring forests. She didn’t ‘own’ the animals, though. Instead, they were among her family. It was also said she could converse with them.

  “Like me?” Maria asked.

  “Not quite. I believe it was more along the lines of her understanding the animals, and in some way, they understood her.” Gramps sighed as he put the paper back into the chest. “One of the greatest people I knew.”

  “Who is this?” Maria asked, pointing to the next visible sketch.

  “Ah, that is Franklin. He was a businessman. He negotiated with the neighboring people, making deals, helping run the monetary system, bartering…you know, all the boring infrastructural stuff a town must have in order to be successful. I know, I know, probably not what you expected, is it?”

  “No,” she answered.

  “Remember, Maria, there’s always more to people than meets the eyes. One look at Franklin, and you’d never expect he was also the town’s greatest athlete.”

  Maria cocked her head, surprised. “This old guy?”

  “Yes. Name a sport, and Franklin could beat anyone who challenged him. I never beat him in Rallendgull, but I got close on a few occasions.” Gramps sighed longingly again.

  “Rallendgull?”

  “Ah, yes. It is like a combination of Earth’s basketball and bowling.”

  Maria tried to picture it, but had little success.

  “It is quite fun,” Gramps continued. He rubbed his shoulder. “Though it is often damaging to the body. I’ve not seen it played anywhere else in Oriceran. Shame, shame. That sport could’ve been quite big.”

  “Bring it to Earth. You could probably make a fortune.”

  Gramps laughed. “I don’t think the Earth people would…adapt. Not to mention we would need the Moving Trees.”

  “Moving Trees?” Maria asked.

  Gramps waved the question away. “An answer for another time.”

  He continued showing his granddaughter the sketches he’d done in his nineteen years as an Earth citizen, flipping through a large sketchpad tablet. There was Davidton, Suzanna, Lola, Chester, Olive, Markton, Feliniona, and many more.

  “Of course, these are not all who were lost, that day your mother tried to save them. There were many others I haven’t gotten around to sketching, but believe me: their images are fresh in my mind. So fresh, it is as if we never left Dominion. As if the grass and wildflowers still grow around the king’s castle, and the sun still shines through the trees, and everyone’s faces still light up with smiles as bright as the sun’s rays.”

  Maria put her hand on Gramps’s forearm. She felt him shaking beneath her touch. “Don’t worry,” she soothed. “We’re gonna get them out of there. Mark my words.”

  The door to the back room swung open, and Salem popped his head in. “If you don’t hurry up and come out here, Sherlock’s gonna eat all the ice cream.”

  I heard that! Sherlock yelled. Why does no one understand the fact that I have supersonic dog hearing?

  “Actually, Salem,” Gramps said, “I was wondering if we could discuss something.”

  “Yeah, we can. In between spoonfuls of buckeye ice cream, my old friend. Come, come, there won’t be any left. Sherlock is a canine vacuum cleaner.”

  I heard that, too! Sherlock shouted inside of Maria’s mind. She couldn’t help but smile.

  Salem sighed when he saw the serious expression on Gramps’s face. “Oh, old friend, you already know my answer.”

  The serious expression gave way to a look of sadness—eyebrows drawn, lips frowning. “Are you sure? It could be dangerous,” Gramps said.

  Salem walked the length of the floor and clapped a hand on Gramps’s shoulder. “I’d never let you go do something like that alone.”

  Gramps looked up, a smile blossoming.

  “You mean it?”

  “Of course I do,” Salem answered.

  “Thank you.” Gramps put his hand over the one Salem was resting on his shoulder. “Although, where were you when I had to fight the Volcano Fairies?”

  Maria raised both eyebrows. “Volcano Fairies.”

  Salem shuddered at the mention of their name. “Horrid things. I don’t want their image in my head. Not when we are celebrating.” He laughed. “Like Raffins with bigger teeth, they are.”

  “Exactly, which is why I needed your help back then, friend,” Gramps scolded with a smile on his face and a hint of humor in his voice.

  “No, no, you did just fine without me,” Salem said. “Handled them like the powerful wizard you are.” Salem winked then nudged Gramps with his elbow.

  “I still have the scars to prove the going wasn’t as easy as you might think.” Rolling his eyes, Gramps asked, “Wanna see? Little buggers got me right on the behind!”

  “No, no!” Maria said, waving her hand. “I don’t think anyone wants to see that!”

  Salem chucked. “Except maybe that lovely dark witch, Frieda. Shall I call her in here?”

  Maria was surprised to see Gramps’s fac
e go a shade of red. Wow, she thinks, I knew he liked her, but does he love her?

  “Don’t make me zap you, Salem,” Gramps said.

  “I just call ‘em how I see ‘em.” Salem paused and smirked. “You old dog, you.” Something seemed to catch his attention over Gramps’s shoulder. He was looking at the chest on the table, and its contents next to it. “Oh my! Is that—”

  Before he could finish, Gramps nodded and said, “It is.”

  “How long has it been since we’ve used this?”

  “Far too long, I reckon. I doubt it’s still useful; the potency of the magic alone would’ve depleted after all these years.”

  Gramps was holding something in his hand. Maria saw it was a vial, the glass crystalline and coming to a sharp point on each end. Inside of the glass swirled a deep purple liquid. It was radiant, as if the sun were inside of Salem’s Ice Cream and lighting its surface. Maria found herself entranced by it.

  “What is that?” she asked breathlessly. “I’ve never seen something so beautiful.”

  Raucous laughter again floated in from the dining room, but as Maria stared at the vial, the sound seemed like a distant echo to her.

  Gramps closed his hand with a snap.

  Whatever spell had come over Maria vanished, and she came back to the present like being jolted awake from a terrible nightmare, covered in sweat, chest rising and falling rapidly.

  “Ah, yes. It can have that effect on a person,” Gramps said. “That’s why it’s better off in this chest where it can’t harm anyone.”

  Still, Maria found herself bewitched by the small vial.

  “What is it?” she asked again.

  Gramps wasn’t going to answer her; she wouldn’t have found out if Salem hadn’t been there with them.

  “A communication liquid. Earthlings might call it a ‘magic potion,’ but we Oricerans think that sounds a bit…schlocky. ‘Communication liquid’ is much more…professional.” Salem smiled.

  He went to the table and started rooting through the contents of the chest that hadn’t been revealed. Maria was both surprised and unsurprised to see his arm disappear nearly to the shoulder when he reached in, despite the chest being no bigger than two feet deep…at least to the naked eye.

 

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