Waking Magic: The Revelations of Oriceran (The Leira Chronicles Book 1)

by Martha Carr

  “It’s medicine. You’re never going to remember all of this. Here, let me write it on your hand,” said Leira grabbing a pen from a nearby drawer. She wrote Dayquil, toilet paper, snacks in the palm of his hand. “Wait, get Coke too. Not Pepsi, very important,” she said, adding to the list on his hand.

  “I appreciate that you assumed I could read English.”

  “It’s become apparent that Light Elves are giant peepers and you’ve been watching humans on Earth for a long time. Go, so you can get back and we can figure out who the hell else is after that necklace.”

  Correk shut the door behind him as quietly as he could and tried to stay to the shadows as he made his way around the patio to the side gate. Everyone was still at the bar, laughing at Paul’s stories.

  “Bert!” Paul called to him, waving him over. “Happy hour’s almost over!”

  Correk waved but kept moving. There was too much to do already.

  “See you in a couple hours,” Estelle said from behind the bar. She was standing on her box pouring peanuts into bowls. “We’ll loan you a bowling shirt. Hey, you fools quit your drinking. I don’t plan on losing tonight to those less thans, the E-bowlas,” she said, sliding a bowl of peanuts in their direction. “What’ll you have, honey?” she asked in her deep-throated croak to a young woman with long blonde hair.

  Correk went out the gate and around the house, keeping his head down, trying to blend in with the crowd moving up and down the sidewalk in front of the bars.

  He looked to the left and saw the red and white sign in the distance. He weaved through the crowd, not looking at anyone, making his way to the store.

  A black tentacle slithered through the grass next to the street, gleaming in the street light, following just a few feet behind him. A drunk woman in high heels holding a red plastic cup staggered onto the grass, her heel grazing the tentacle.

  “Oh my God, Darlene!” her friend shrieked, backing away and pointing. The tentacle melted into the street, turning into liquid as it ran down the gutter, still headed in the same direction as Correk.

  “What? What?” the woman yelled, looking at her feet.

  “Shit, I could have sworn I saw a snake right by your shoes, Darlene!” They both peered at the grass.

  “Those dirty martinis always mess you up, Jasmine,” she, laughed. They held on to each other laughing, the plastic cups in their hands spilling onto the sidewalk.

  Correk glanced back but didn’t see anything and quickly turned away, not wanting to draw any attention to himself.

  The black liquid in the gutter reformed into a tentacle, and slithered after Correk, keeping to the grass.

  “Hey, look out,” yelled a man on a bike as Correk darted across the street. A truck leaned on the horn. Correk leaned back, whispering “Decantata,” his eyes glowing, and the truck swerved enough to avoid grazing him. The driver shook his fist out the window. Correk looked around to see if anyone had noticed.

  A few people had turned to see why someone was honking but quickly went back to what they were doing. No one had seen him cast the spell except the tentacle that curled up by the lamp post, waiting, as Correk went into the drugstore.

  He stood dazed in the front of the aisles looking out over the rows of things to buy. Directly in front of him were square fuzzy pillows that could vibrate. Each one had a large, ‘try me’ sticker on the front. Correk pressed gently and felt a tingle go through his hand as the pillow hummed. “Hmm,” he said, tucking one under his arm. He wandered down the makeup aisle passing by the large Revlon and L’Oreal signs, smelling a lotion scented with peppermint. He put a little on his hand and rubbed it in.

  “We don’t do samples here, mister,” said a short, stocky woman in a bright red vest.

  “Of course,” said Correk, taking the lotion.

  He moved down the aisle and turned the corner, amazed at the rows upon rows of products meant to hold something, cure something, or dress something up.

  The same clerk came up behind him as he was looking at athletic socks and handed him a shopping basket. “Looks like you’re gonna need this,” she said. She wandered off before he could answer.

  He threw two pairs into the basket along with the other things.

  “Can you point me in the direction of the Doritos?” he called to her.

  “Aisle two,” she yelled back, bored. “Right across from the milk in the refrigerated section.” He looked over the aisles, hesitating. She sighed and pointed. “That way. You’d think he’d never seen a CVS before,” she mumbled, wandering off toward the photo counter.

  “Ice Cream Magic Personal Ice Cream Maker,” Correk read. “That’s not magic,” he said, reading the directions on the back. “That’s poor science.” He worked his way down the shelf picking up the ultralight, slim book light and magnifier, tossing it into the basket. “Cat’s Meow Motorized Wand,” he mumbled. “What do they need with all of this?” he wondered and tossed it in the basket. At the end of the aisle was a red oval sign that read, ‘As Seen on TV!’

  “She did warn me about this,” he said, pulling himself away from a Hurricane Spin Scrubber. He went in the direction the clerk had pointed, pulling out the empty Doritos bag, looking for a match.

  “Damn,” he said in awe, as he stood in front of the rows of different flavored Doritos. “This is incredible.” He pulled out the cool ranch. He filled the basket with bags of Cheetos and corn nuts, sea salt potato chips and honey roasted peanuts.

  At the end of the aisle he found the different flavors of beef jerky and threw in one of each, along with a Whitman’s Sampler and a box of mini-Charleston Chews.

  He got in line behind a man buying diapers and glanced down at his hand.

  “Dammit,” he said, “She was right.”

  “Problem?” asked the clerk.

  “Toilet paper and Dayquil? I’ll need the Coke, not the Pepsi,” he added, showing the clerk his hand.

  “Let me guess. Wife is sick, it’s coming out both ends and you’re having to take over. I’d guess for the first time in a very long time. Never mind. Coke’s right there. You want the regular, the cherry, the lime or the diet? Take the regular, can’t go wrong with that. Right this way. Let me walk you to the other things on your list. Can I help you carry any of that? The pillow, sure.”

  She kept up the running commentary as she walked him to the toilet paper. “You care about softness or thickness? You don’t know, do you? Okay, let’s go for on sale. Come on, this way,” she said, holding on to the pillow and the toilet paper for him. “Dayquil. I imagine whoever’s waiting for you at home didn’t want the stuff that would knock her out. Probably needs to keep one eye on you, huh?” she laughed. Correk raised an eyebrow and reached for the Dayquil.

  “Listen, don’t feel bad. We get guys like you in here all the time. On Mother’s Day, Valentine’s Day and Christmas Eve this place is packed with you guys, buying all kinds of weird shit and asking if we’ll wrap it. Guy talked me into wrapping a skillet and a spatula once. Said his wife needed a new one. Bet she hit him with it.”

  “Thank you for your assistance,” Correk said stiffly, standing up straighter to make himself look more dignified. He set the basket on the counter as the clerk added the other things and went around to ring him up.

  “You have a discount card? What about a phone number? It’s like you just got here or something. You must be from another country. Don’t have much of an accent, though. Should get to know the area while you’re here.”

  The clerk bagged everything in large shopping bags, pushing them over the counter to Correk.

  “That’s a hundred and fifty-six dollars and ninety-seven cents. Just slide your card,” she said, pointing at the small black machine partially hidden by one of the bags. “Dear Lord, honey, you need to get out more. You one of those fellas that just uses cash most of the time? Dollar, dollar bill! That’s what my Ernie is always saying. Don’t know where he got that from. There you go. You need cash back? Press no. Sign there. All d
one!” she chirped, clapping like he had achieved something remarkable.

  “Thank you,” he said, as she held the door for him. The line waiting behind him glowered as he grabbed his bags and headed for the door.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Out on the street the sun had set and the moon was out.

  Correk looked up at the lone moon, missing his own planet’s two silvery orbs. It wasn’t like him to be homesick. He remembered the look on Ossonia’s face when he tumbled through the portal.

  The black tentacle unwound itself from the shadows and slithered into the gutter again, following just close enough to see where Correk was going and waited patiently just inside of the gate, watching him walk back to the cottage on the far side of the patio.

  “Estelle, you got a damn snake in here,” yelled a woman who was trying to bash the tentacle with a deck chair. The tentacle slithered under the gate and out into the darkness, back to where it had come from.

  Correk looked back from the cottage door, catching a glimpse of the tentacle before it disappeared.

  “No,” he whispered, a cold chill passing through him.

  “Damn snakes!” said Estelle. “You’ll get it next time, honey,” she said, coughed.

  “Hey, there’s Bert!” Mike exclaimed from the bar. He had changed into his blue bowling shirt. “We found you a shirt!” he yelled, waving a large blue shirt, ‘Pin Pushers’ clearly visible.

  “We gave it to Leira,” said Janice.

  “Keep your shirt on,” said Craig.

  “So funny,” said Mike. “Keep drinking. It helps your game.”

  Correk tried to shake off an eerie feeling and went into the cottage.

  “Did you get everything?” Leira asked, still wrapped in a blanket on the couch.

  “You’re not well enough to go anywhere tonight,” Correk, said grimly.

  “Not true,” she replied, shaking off the blanket. She was already dressed in her bowling shirt. “I already feel better. Something weird must be going around, but, I never stay sick for long. Good DNA.”

  “Look, I think whoever else wants that necklace too has put a tail on us,” Correk said hesitantly. “I can’t be sure of what I saw. There was hardly any light and it was only for a second…”

  “But…” said Leira, rising off the couch. “What do you think you saw?”

  “A black tentacle. Something I’ve only ever heard of from stories in the past.”

  “You mean like an Atlantean. That’s not necessarily bad news,” said Leira before she looked at him a second time. “Or is it?”

  “If it’s an Atlantean who wants the necklace, it’s for a spell. Dark magic of some sort.”

  “It doesn’t have to be a dark plot. It could just be good old fashioned greed, which is a very popular motive,” Leira said. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. Don’t worry,” she patted his arm. “We got this.”

  She noticed all the bags he’d dropped on the red velvet chair. “Whoa, what happened here? You went down that aisle, didn’t you? Rookie mistake. Hey, this pillow is pretty sweet,” she said, holding it against her chest as it vibrated.

  “I don’t think I’ve seen a Whitman’s box of candy since…” Leira stopped herself. She was about to say, since her grandmother was here. She put the pillow down and took the bags from Correk. “We should get going.”

  He followed her into the kitchen. “I got your Doritos and something called a Cheeto.”

  “I can see that. You got a nice mashup of junk food. Will make for a great road trip even if we’re hunting for a killer and a suspect to be named later,” she said, her mood growing darker.

  The troll moaned from the other room.

  “Yumfuck’s going to be a problem at the bowling alley,” Leira said, as she put the Coke in the refrigerator.

  “You can tell him to stay in his nest. He’ll listen to you.”

  “What? That would have been very useful to know yesterday.”

  “I didn’t know you were taking a troll home with you.”

  “Just tell him to stay, like a pet?”

  “It’s a little more than that. Say Nesturnium to him,” Correk instructed. “Stand right in front of him, and wave your hand over him.”

  “Next thing you’re going to tell me to wave a dead chicken over my head under a full moon.”

  “Live chicken, and takes two full moons, like on Oriceran.” Correk moved to the opposite side of the bedroom where he could face Leira.

  “So, you do know sarcasm,” Leira said. “Okay, here goes. Nesturnium,” she said, waving her hand over the troll. Her hand tingled and she felt her face warm. The troll trilled and settled down in its nest.

  Correk saw her eyes starting to glow. Not human, he thought. Not entirely at least.

  “That’s a relief,” she said, watching the troll’s tiny chest move up and down as it slept. “Come on, let’s get our bowl on.”

  “How do you put on a bowl?”

  “So much slang, so little time,” said Leira. “Keep that hat on. I can explain away everything else. This is Austin. Keep it weird, dude. But your ears would cause some questions. Here, change into this,” she tossed him a blue bowling shirt. “Estelle brought it over while you were gone. It’ll help normalize the Robin Hood pants.” She grabbed two pairs of socks, glancing at Correk’s feet in the large boots. “These will never fit you,” she said, waving the socks, “but they’ll have to do.”

  “Not to worry. I picked up some more while I was out,” he said, digging them out of the bag.

  “How much did you put on my card? Never mind. Good call. But you are to stay out of Target.”

  “This is a lot of trouble in order to be with friends. It’s an odd thing with humans. Great tragedies can occur and you seek each other out to do mundane things like this bowling. It serves no purpose.”

  “I suppose that’s the point. Change in there,” she said, pointing to the bedroom. “And make it snappy.”

  Correk shut the bedroom door. Leira yelled, “I want to win a trophy!”

  “I can fashion you a trophy in a matter of moments,” he yelled back, buttoning up the shirt. The troll was snoring happily in its nest.

  “Trophies are just useless junk unless you earn them by beating the bejeezus out of somebody. It’s even better if it’s someone you know.”

  Correk came out of the bedroom and reached for the knit hat. He noticed the look Leira was giving him.

  “What?” he asked, holding out his arms like he was ready to be inspected. “Do I not look human enough?”

  “Fortunately, in these parts, humans come in every shape, size and description. Very fortunately,” she said. “Come on.”

  Correk pulled the hat down over his ears as Leira grabbed her leather jacket and purse sitting on the chair by the door.

  “What? It’s convenient to leave my stuff right there,” she said, as she waited for him to follow.

  “I have no comment on how you choose to live.”

  “No, just plenty of elven looks.”

  The bar was full of patrons but everyone from the bowling team was already gone, including Estelle. Though her cigarette smoke still hung in the air.

  A few college students from University of Texas were playing cornhole, tossing large bean bags toward the raised wooden board with a hole in the center.

  One of the bean bags landed at Correk’s feet.

  “Hey, dude, can you toss it back?” asked one of the young men.

  Correk hesitated and Leira was about to step in when he flicked the bean bag up in the air with his foot, caught it and threw it all in one fluid motion. The bean bag dropped through the hole.

  “Nice!” the man said, smiling broadly. “Whoa, that was downright evil. You gotta show me how to do that.” Correk headed for the gate. Leira let him pass, a crooked smile on her face.

  “This trophy is in the bag,” she announced.

  “I’ll have you know, Light Elves are known for their athletic ability.”
/>   “Without…”

  “Yes, even without magic,” Correk cut her off. “It’s not really a test of athletic skills if you bring magic into it.”

  “Good to know.”

  Correk let Leira get in the car while he took a long look, scanning the street, paying careful attention to the ground around him. It was too dark to see any further. He couldn’t shake the feeling someone, or something, was watching them.

  “I haven’t been around Light Elves long,” Leira said, as Correk slid into his seat. “What? Did you see anything out there? Hello? When you don’t answer me that usually means there’s more to the story than you’ve told me. I don’t play well with people who keep things from me. So, start talking.”

  Correk considered how much to share with her, including his suspicion that she wasn’t entirely human.

  “Our two worlds connect more than either side would like. It’s just a feeling,” he said finally, not willing to say anything more.

  Leira stopped at the red light and turned to look at Correk, her face set in a determined look.

  “It looks like you and I are partners on this job, at least for now. Whatever sent you through that portal gave you a pretty good shove. They seemed pretty determined. Partners don’t keep shit from each other. That’s how someone ends up dead. I’m the non-magical one in this equation and even though I have a gun, I don’t like the odds. So, you’re going to need to be more forthcoming. You may have been under the impression earlier that I was asking. I wasn’t. Tell me what the fuck is going on or I quit right now. You can be the one to explain it to the grieving queen.” Her voice was hard.

  “All I can give you are pieces that add up to nothing at the moment,” Correk said.

  “That’s how a detective works. We take all those pieces and look for the ones that fit in with them. But, when you don’t give me what you have I have to bust my ass to find out shit you already knew. And now, apparently, with magical shit chasing after the same prize. Gives everything a whole new stink to it.”