by Martha Carr
Light jazz played while Ernie waited, considering how he would tell this story later. It would be a lot more exciting and he’d play a bigger part. Maybe he’d say he saw the girl’s hands light up. Peter wouldn’t need to know.
“Hello?” The music stopped and there was a series of clicks on the phone.
“Your location has been recorded. Someone will be there shortly. Do not leave the premises. Get a picture of the offenders but do not approach.”
“We, I mean, I, yeah, I,” he said, wondering if this could get him a promotion. “I think it’s just the one offender. A pretty cute girl.”
“Get a picture. Don’t leave the premises,” the voice said firmly and then another click. They were gone.
“Rude,” Ernie said, putting the phone back in his pocket.
Peter barreled out, breathing hard.
“I can’t find her,” he said, panic rising in his voice.
“What? What do you mean? She was just there. The tournament just got started. Did you at least get a name?”
Peter shook his head hard. “No! The Pin Pushers clammed up. That little old lady kept poking me with her finger.”
Ernie was disgusted. “Dude, you’re a wizard. You know magic and you’re afraid of a chain-smoking grandma?”
“That’s no one’s grandma,” Peter said. “We can’t use that magic any more than anyone else.”
“Except to save our own lives,” said Ernie, rolling his eyes and looking around.
“I’d like to see you explain to the Order how you were saving your life from a five-foot old lady. What’s with the tie?” Peter asked him, flipping it up in the air with his hand.
“You know, Men in Black. We’re the good guys keeping the world safe from magic and all things it doesn’t need to know. I’m Will Smith. It’s a vibe of coolness.”
“It’s a vibe of ridiculous. We’re at a bowling alley. You already stick out like a sore thumb even when you’re wearing the bowling shirt.”
“Nah, chicks dig it. I look responsible, like I take things seriously. Check it out, I even have the sunglasses,” he said, reaching into his shirt pocket and slipping on a pair of black Raybans.
A blue minivan pulled in and parked in the back of the lot. Two couples got out dressed in jeans and t-shirts, headed for the bowling alley.
Ernie held the door nodding his head and saying, “Ma’am.”
They stopped and looked at him sternly.
“Really?” asked Peter, exasperated. He leaned toward Ernie and said, “Those are the Silver Griffins that we’re waiting for. They don’t run around in black suits or battle gear.”
“Except when necessary,” said the taller wizard, winking at Ernie.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The woman pressed her mouth together. “Don’t encourage them. They’re new and they need to learn the right way to keep themselves out of trouble,” said the witch, who was clearly in charge.
“Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen,” whispered Peter.
“What are you doing?” asked the wizard. “Counting to yourself? I get it. Takes a few years to really fit into the Order of the Silver Griffins. The key is remembering you’re part of a team. A healthy dose of courage doesn’t hurt, either.”
“In case someone tries to use magic on you?” Ernie asked. It was his greatest fear and his greatest wish, depending on how something like that turned out in the end.
“We see all kinds of things in our service,” said the wizard.
“If you’re done with trying to impress the novices,” said the stern witch.
“I’m Ernie, I mean Silver Griffin two hundred and one,” said Ernie, putting out his hand to the friendlier wizard, who shook it back.
“We don’t do a lot of chitchat in the field, Ernie. We like to stick to the mission. Things tend to turn out better that way.”
The witch at the front of the group scowled at Ernie but he didn’t notice. He was too busy basking in the glow of being a part of a mission.
“Our first mission,” he said in a reverent voice.
“Oh, for the love of…” the witch snapped.
“Ernie doesn’t mean anything by it. We’re both new. Recent recruits.”
“You don’t say,” said the woman in the front of the group. She looked more like somebody’s mom here to pick up her kid from a birthday party. She pulled a portable wand out of her pocket, letting it unfold and click in place.
“Oh man, she has the latest version!” exclaimed Ernie, reaching out to touch it. Peter batted his hand away.
“Keep watch,” she said to the others. The other witch and wizard went just inside the building while the wizard who was being friendly with Ernie stood on the stairs, looking out toward the parking lot. He kept the same easygoing look on his face while he kept watch.
“Don’t let his demeanor fool you. He’s dispatched plenty of magical creatures who wanted to cause trouble here on Earth,” said the witch, as she tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. A charm bracelet dangled from her wrist.
Peter noticed the charm with the two interlocking circles that represented the Silver Griffins and the connection between Earth and Oriceran. It was swinging between a charm shaped like a soccer ball and a large dog.
Ernie swallowed hard, looking at the wizard. “Dispatched? You mean dead?”
“Of course I mean dead. Well, dead or Trevilsom Prison where you’ll wish you had died. We have hard and fast rules. You wantonly display magic in front of the home team, the humans, and we take care of it. There are no second chances,” she said. She had been with the Silver Griffins for well over a decade. “Now, which one of you saw the woman performing magic?” she asked.
“That was… well… that was,” Ernie stuttered. He was afraid to move a muscle.
“You then,” said the witch. She traced a small circle with her wand next to Peter’s ear. A shimmering gold circle appeared, unwinding into a thin line, vanishing into the wand,
“Memorialum,” she said quietly but firmly.
The wizard standing on the stairs joined them, pulling a device from his pocket no bigger than a smartphone and held it to the tip of the witch’s wand. The phone sucked out the swirling gold lines with a soft whoosh, as the wizard tapped the small screen.
“So cool,” said Ernie, trying to look over his shoulder. “Look at that, Peter! It’s what you saw! Like we’re looking through your eyeballs.”
The images played on the screen, intently focused on Leira as she set up to throw the bowling ball. For a moment, the focus drew in on her ass. Everyone turned to look at a blushing Peter.
“It’s my day off. I thought she was cute,” he said sheepishly.
“There are no real days off,” said the witch.
They turned back to the screen and watched as she seemed to be concentrating and let the ball fly, her fingertips aglow. A look of panic came over Leira’s face and she shoved her hands into her pockets.
“It’s the detective,” said the witch. “Just like the reports from the Order said.”
“Reports? You know about her?”
“You might say she’s a friendly. We’re here to help if she runs into trouble.”
“She’s with us!” said Peter, brightening.
“That’s Light Elf magic. She must be only half human. They left that out of our briefing,” the wizard said.
“Doesn’t look like she knew that was coming,” the witch observed.
“That’s good news, right?” asked Peter. “Intentions matter.”
“We let the Order decide those things. Our job is to track magical objects that are loose in the wild, like the suburbs,” the wizard smiled, “and take them into possession to be stored in our vault.”
“And to hunt down and stop all magical creatures from wantonly displaying magic where humans could see it,” the witch said pointedly. “It’s fine,” she said, looking at Peter’s anxious face. “Leira Berens is a special case. We have orders to stay back and only step in if the detec
tive or the elf traveling with her need assistance.”
“Roger that.” Ernie saluted. The witch stared at him for a moment mumbling something about thin pickings for new recruits.
“You do realize we’re expected to blend in as well,” she said, looking him up and down.
“Totally,” said Peter, jumping in to try and protect his friend.
“How long you been a Silver Griffin?” Ernie asked the wizard.
“Going on my second decade. Third generation. My great grandfather was born on Oriceran.”
“No kidding!”
The witch’s phone started to vibrate and she pushed the button. The other witch’s voice came over it, the urgency clear.
“We have a level one problem in here. Get in here immediately.”
“Level one,” said Peter, trying to remember his training. “Isn’t that the worst level saved for some outdated Atlantean thing or something?”
The witch didn’t answer his question or even look back. She ran into the bowling alley, not bothering to keep a low profile, drawing stares and looks of concern from other bowlers. Soon, someone was bound to ask if they could help.
Peter knew they were breaching protocol right and left, which meant whatever the other witch and wizard found, it was bad.
“Diggin’ the Men in Black thing you’ve got going on here,” the wizard said to Ernie, as they ran in behind the witch.
“Right?” said Ernie, smiling broadly, and punched Peter in the shoulder.
“You’re still going to need to blend in,” said the wizard.
They found the witch and wizard by the snack counter. The witch was holding a silvery bag that was wriggling wildly, left and right. People were taking notice, glancing at the bag and whispering to each other.
“This is bad, Ernie,” Peter whispered.
“What’s in there?” asked the witch, her eyes wide with alarm.
“Not something I’ve ever seen before or ever expected to see,” said the other witch as she carefully folded back the long bag so that the lead witch could get a better look.
“No,” she gasped, the color draining from her face. “How is this possible?”
Twisting wildly in the middle of the bag, a long black tentacle tried to escape.
“Stop!” yelled the witch holding the bag as the tentacle swarmed to the opening, reaching for her with its suction cups.
Before she could shut the bag, the tentacle wrapped itself around her neck in one fluid motion, and started drawing tighter like a noose, the suction cups planting themselves firmly on her skin.
“Ga,” was the only sound she was able to make.
The lead witch whipped out her wand and said loudly, “Into the fire!”
Purple flames appeared around the tentacle, which only made it squeeze harder. The witch gasped for air, trying to clutch at her throat. The wizard held her hands back.
Peter could smell burning seafood as the tentacle started to glow purple from the flames. The witch fell back into the wizard’s arms. The tentacle darkened and turned to ash, a small cloud of soot drifting across the front of her blue velour jacket.
“Is she breathing?” Ernie asked, trembling.
The wizard passed his hand over the witch’s face, gently puffing air. The witch’s chest rose and fell with each gentle puff until she finally took a breath on her own and her eyes popped open.
He helped her stand, saying to Ernie and Peter, “Much gentler than mouth to mouth.”
“Everyone all right?” The manager of the bowling alley, a large fellow with wisps of air on the top of his head and a bushy greying moustache was hustling toward them. “Your friend need an ambulance?” he said, looking concerned.
The head witch looked around and saw that every face was turned toward them. More than one person had their cell phone out and was filming the whole thing.
Peter stepped back, his eyes wide, as the witch drew out her wand in full view of everyone and held it high in the air.
“Never was, never will be,” she intoned. Rays poured out of her wand in widening shafts of white light that were so bright Peter expected them to hurt his eyes. Instead, a growing sense of peace filled him as the light caressed the entire bowling alley, even seeking out the kitchen and the rest rooms till everything within the four main walls was bathed in the light.
All the humans looked around, dazed, with goofy, lopsided grins on their faces. A large man dropped the bowling ball in his hands, giggling as he watched it slowly roll down the gutter.
The light hummed and grew steadily louder until it ended with a sharp snap and disappeared. Everyone froze, suspended in time.
“This will only last a few minutes so we need to make this count. Help her out of here. Both of you are coming with us,” she said, pushing them toward the door.
“What just happened?” said a dazed Ernie.
“What about them?” Peter asked. He was pointing at a small group in one of the middle lanes who were all still moving, nodding to the witches and wizards.
“A group of Arpaks, most likely,” said the wizard, holding up his phone. “Yeah, I was right,” he said. Peter looked at the screen on his phone and could see a silhouette of the people in front of them but they appeared to have grown large wings. He looked back and forth between the average looking people standing in the lane and the image on the small screen.
“Arpaks always blend in so easily,” said the wizard. “They’ll follow the usual protocol and play along. The spell took out the last thirty minutes of memory. All the humans will take up where their memory’s left off. Some will think they need to pee again or go get something to eat and then just change their minds when they realize they must be wrong.”
“Does this happen all the time?” Peter asked, helping to get the injured witch to the door.
“That is going to leave a mark,” Ernie said, wincing as he looked at the red welts on the witch’s neck. They were starting to swell. “Is that normal?” he asked, gently pointing to the large bubbles growing on her skin.
The lead witch turned around and gasped before catching herself.
“Hurry,” she said.
The wizard said to Ernie, “There’s no way for us to know what that thing could do. That kind of dark magic hasn’t been seen for six hundred years. I’ve seen a tentacle or two in my day but not one that can do that.”
“It’s supposed to all be under lock and key!” said the lead witch as they went out the doors. “Under lock and key on an entirely different planet!”
“It’s getting worse,” Ernie said, wrinkling his nose. “It’s starting to smell like rotted fish.”
The welts on the witch’s neck were starting to bubble and creep up toward her face.
“What’s happening?” pleaded the injured witch, as the wizard once again stopped her from touching the pulsing wounds around her neck.
“There’s no time to waste. We have only seconds left. I can’t even alert them we’re coming,” said the head witch, as she waved her wand in a large circle and golden sparks started to spit out of thin air, creating a large hole in the air, right there in front of the bowling alley.
“A fucking portal,” said Peter, drawing closer. “That’s Oriceran,” he said, peering through. “My Nana told me all about it.”
They were high atop a cliff with a view that went on for miles. Strange birds flew nearby.
Ernie pulled back, inching away from the portal. The witch grabbed him by the arm and dragged him back.
“We’ll have to explain once we’re there,” said the tall wizard.
“Agreed,” said the wounded witch’s partner as he picked her up in his arms and stepped through the portal. The other wizard followed quickly.
“Come on, come on. There’s only a couple of minutes left before time starts again. Get in here. That’s an order!”
Peter snapped to and dutifully stepped through, grabbing Ernie’s hand and dragging him. He felt an odd tug as he passed through to Oriceran and Ernie�
�s hand slip out of his.
The last thing he heard before the portal zipped shut, sparks shooting everywhere, was a short plaintive cry. “What the hell?”
Ernie had hesitated a moment too long and slipped, out of Peter’s grasp into the world in between.
“No!” cried the lead witch. She raised her wand but it was too late. They were safely in Oriceran and the portal was closed. Ernie was lost.
“Where did he go?” Peter shouted, frantic.
“The world in between,” one of the wizards gasped. His voice was angry as he spit out, “This was all handled badly. Where he is, that’s worse than death! Trapped for eternity with other lost souls. The living and the dead!”
“What the fuck? No, I’m not leaving this spot till you tell me how we get him out of there. He’ll never survive it!”
“I don’t have time to baby you,” said the lead witch, taking Peter by the arm, “so I’m going to tell you the facts, as much as we know. He’ll survive it and that’s the problem. The world in between seems to be some kind of waystation between Earth and Oriceran and whatever afterlife there is. He can see us and sometimes, maybe, we will be able to see him.”
Peter’s look of fear was turning to horror and he tried to sit down.
“Not just here, Peter. Ernie will be able to travel through the realm he’s in and hear everything in both worlds. Even communicate sometimes but that’s about it. Right now, we don’t know any more than that. I can’t do anything else for him but if you don’t come with me, and quickly, my friend here will die.”
The boils along the witch’s neck spread and were turning black. The veins in her arms were also a deep, dark black.
“This magic is beyond me. It’s beyond all of us here. Our only hope for her is one of the healers on this side of the world who is old enough to remember the old ways when they had to fight Rhazdon’s cult. Now get off your ass and move!” she shouted and slapped him hard across the face. There were tears in her eyes.
“You are an elite member of the Silver Griffins,” she shouted into his face. “We serve to protect all magical beings and sometimes we die doing that, or worse! You’ve been given an order and I expect you to follow it. If you can’t be trusted to do that, there’s no place for you in the Order of the Silver Griffins.”
