The Midwest Wanderer: The Revelations of Oriceran (Midwest Magic Chronicles Book 2)

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The Midwest Wanderer: The Revelations of Oriceran (Midwest Magic Chronicles Book 2) Page 2

by Flint Maxwell


  “Besides, my broken coccyx, yeah, I guess, I am,” Claire answered.

  Did she just say— Sherlock began, but Maria cut him off.

  “Coccyx, Sherlock. It’s her tailbone. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

  “Yes, we must all get our minds out of this proverbial gutter,” Ignatius declared. “For we are in dangerous territory.”

  For the first time, Maria looked beyond her group, and the reality—or perhaps, unreality—of the situation hit her hard.

  She was on another planet. She had just gone through a portal to another planet. A place where wizards and witches and so many other magical creatures and races existed, creatures and races she had always thought were make-believe, or just another part of her grandfather’s wild imagination.

  But it wasn’t.

  All of it was true.

  If she’d had any doubt after slaying a humanoid spider, wielding a magical sword, or blowing up more than a few things with her magic, she didn’t any more, as she looked out among the vast expanse of strange land surrounding her and the rest of her tribe.

  They had landed in a clearing of a dense forest. The trees towered over them, taller than any trees Maria had seen in Ohio; over these trees, looming and somewhat ominous in the night sky, were the peaks of mountains.

  “Where are we?” Maria asked.

  “We are home,” Ignatius said. He swept his hand out behind him toward the other end of the clearing.

  “Home? I thought we were here to find a Gnome to tell us more about the world in between.”

  Claire, awestruck, said, “Wow."

  Sherlock, meanwhile, was having a blast sniffing around the edges of the clearing. Maria witnessed him lift his leg three times to mark his territory. She was surprised the dog had any urine left. He must have a reserve tank specifically meant for the marking of territories.

  “We are, we are!” Ignatius assured her. “Though it will prove to be next to impossible. The Gnomes are secret keepers who'd die before they'd unlock the vault for us."

  "What are our other options?" Maria asked. "We're desperate here."

  "I know, I know, have no worries. We will figure it out. I just wanted you to get a look at Dominion. The place where you came from," Gramps said.

  Maria’s heart thundered in her chest. She couldn’t say why, but she was scared. Home? How crazy this all is, she thought. I’ll never get used to any of it.

  “Where is it?” she found herself asking.

  “Through the trees,” Ignatius replied. “If the sun was out, you’d be able to see it. Well…what’s left of it.” He looked down at the ground, the smile quickly vanishing from his face.

  Maria crossed over to him and put her hand on his arm. “It’s okay,” she soothed. “We will get them back.”

  “I know we will,” Gramps nodded. “I know.”

  “This sentimentality is great and all,” Tabby interrupted, “and I don’t mean to be rude, but can we maybe, possibly get out of this forest?”

  Gramps smiled warmly. “You must’ve read my mind, Tabitha!”

  Claire snickered. “ ‘Tabitha’.”

  “Can it,” Tabby ordered.

  “Come, come,” Gramps directed, “I shall be your tour guide today, but be wary; the closer we get to the Dark Forest, the closer we get to danger.”

  Maria tapped the bottom of her sword’s hilt. “I’ve got this.”

  Gramps smiled. “Now, Maria, don’t get cocky. You must remain humble.”

  She nodded.

  “And, Sherlock! Leave that poor Raffin alone!” Gramps boomed.

  Sherlock jumped at the sound of his voice, and turned his head in their direction, his eyes catching a glint of moonlight from one of the two moons.

  Two moons, Maria mused. How crazy.

  All of it was crazy, though—she had at least accepted that.

  “Come over here!” Gramps demanded.

  His head down, eyes flickering up, Sherlock trotted over to the rest of them. Maria heard a squeaking coming from the spot Sherlock had just left, quickly followed by a rustling as the Raffin fled into the nearby brush.

  “What is a Raffin?” Tabby asked. “Is it…dangerous?”

  “Oh, heavens no!” Gramps said. “Well…erm, only if you don’t tickle their bellies or offer them food.”

  I certainly wasn’t planning on tickling the little son of a bitch, Sherlock said. I was offering him to myself as food.

  Maria glared at Sherlock, who flinched away from her death stare. “What did I say about eating things?”

  You said don’t eat any Gnomes! A Raffin isn’t a Gnome!

  “I said don’t pee on any Gnomes,” Maria corrected him.

  So…I can eat them?

  “NO!”

  “Hush, now,” Gramps said. “There will be no eating of or peeing on any magical creatures.” He turned matter-of-factly and headed for the opposite side of the clearing. There was no way Gramps could've heard Sherlock's thoughts, only Maria could, but sometimes he was just good like that.

  Claire shook her head. “I never thought we’d have to be reminded of that rule.” She gave an exasperated glance in Sherlock’s direction.

  “Yeah,” Tabby agreed, “seems like something like that would be pretty self-explanatory.”

  Maria walked past them, smiling. “With Sherlock, you never know,” she teased.

  Sherlock looked up at Claire and Tabby and did his best to smile, which was pretty unsettling, as it looked a lot like he was baring his fangs at them.

  They all followed Ignatius into the dense forest beyond.

  Maria clutched the music box, which was inside her satchel, to her chest, and thought she felt an odd buzzing beneath the canvas material.

  A warning…

  ***

  They saw the village about five minutes later, though Maria wasn’t sure if five minutes had passed or five years. Time seemed to work differently on Oriceran.

  Gramps stopped short on the edge of the forest. Maria stopped behind him, and not long after, the rest of the group stopped as well.

  Gramps brought a hand up to his chest and moaned.

  “Gramps?” Maria asked.

  He moaned again.

  Maria walked next to him and put her arm around his shoulders. “It’s all right,” she said softly.

  But she knew it was far from all right; the village of Dominion, the place Ignatius Mangood had once fought for, was in ruins.

  The gates were blackened, weathered by war and age. Buildings stood half-destroyed, the ground scorched. Maria thought she could still smell the fire.

  I thought the Arachnids took it over? Sherlock asked, startling Maria. He put his head up into the air and sniffed deeply a few times. I don’t smell any of those freaks nearby.

  Maria told Gramps what Sherlock had said.

  Gramps nodded. “Typical of them.” He shook his head. “They take over a place, destroy it, and leave it to the weeds when it has served its purpose.”

  Maria wasn’t surprised to see that Gramps had tears in his eyes.

  Claire came up on Maria’s right. “You all right?” she asked Maria.

  Maria nodded, but it was a lie. Seeing Gramps like that had shaken her. He was always so happy, and now he was broken-hearted; someone as wonderful as Ignatius Apple didn’t deserve that. Ever.

  “Do you want to look around?” she asked Gramps.

  “Oh…I don’t know.”

  “It might help,” Maria offered, but then the thought of seeing the skeletons of the people he had lived amongst and protected crossed her mind, and she wasn’t so sure.

  Gramps suddenly perked up. “You know, you’re right, Maria. It would do me good. And I’ve always wanted you to see the place where you came from.”

  “Me too,” Maria answered. She returned his smile through her fresh doubts.

  “We’re actually going in there?” Tabby shuddered.

  “I’m with Tab on this one,” Claire agreed.

 
Likewise, Sherlock added. Never thought I’d agree with them…

  “Oh, it will be fine; the Arachnids are gone. Besides, we have Maria Apple on our side,” Gramps said, still smiling.

  Maria nodded and patted the hilt of the sheathed sword that hung on her hip.

  “I won’t let anyone or anything mess with us,” she assured them.

  “That’s my girl,” Gramps commended, then he muttered something under his breath, and sparks began to flicker off his fingers, lighting the dark path ahead of them.

  “Great, now all the weird creatures are going to know where we are,” Tabby whispered.

  Claire rolled her eyes.

  Gramps, who was well ahead of the two girls, looked back and said, “Oh, believe me, they don’t need to see us. The really bad ones can smell us from a mile away!”

  Claire was dumbstruck that Gramps had been able to hear them all the way back there. She looked at Maria, who just shrugged.

  Tabby stopped and looked around. “Was that supposed to make me feel better?” she wanted to know.

  They walked on, leaving her behind.

  She heard something in the trees behind her—a snapping of twigs, a deep breathing, and something that sounded like a loon—and she took off running after the rest of the group.

  ***

  They walked through the gates without a problem. The underlying smell of war and death was thick in the air, but they did their best to ignore it. Even Sherlock knew how deeply seeing his former home in ruins was affecting Gramps, and he kept his telepathic mouth shut.

  As they got deeper into the village and Maria saw the destroyed buildings—which, had they been in better shape and been untouched by war, would’ve reminded her of townhouses in the better parts of Akron—Maria began to feel the same dread she’d felt when she saw the Silver Griffin change into Malakai outside of Salem’s Ice Cream. Not to mention the music box was practically vibrating its way out of her bag, as if it didn’t want to be here. She almost asked Gramps what that was about, but thought better of it.

  Whatever it is, I can handle it.

  Gramps stopped at a fork in the road. There was an upturned wagon on the right side of the fork; one wheel was leaning against the rubble of a large building, and another was in the overgrown brush to the left.

  “There it is,” Gramps whispered to himself.

  He was looking at the tallest building, the Royal Hall. It was the least ruined part of the entire village. For some reason, it gave Maria hope. Why? She already knew what had happened here, what had made Gramps flee to Earth.

  “Wow,” Tabby breathed. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Truly fit for a king and a queen,” Gramps remarked. Now his smile was genuine. “Ah, so many good memories there.” His features darkened. “And so many bad ones…”

  Imagine how many chew toys I could fit in there! Sherlock yipped.

  Maria chuckled. “A hell of a lot.”

  “You must see it,” Gramps insisted to Maria. “You all must see it.”

  “Do you think that’s safe?” Maria asked.

  Tabby and Claire looked back and forth at each other, shifting on their heels.

  Gramps pointed to Maria’s sword, reminding her of what she had said earlier.

  “Right,” Maria recalled.

  ***

  If Maria’s breath was taken when she first stepped into the world of Oriceran, it was nonexistent now that she was in the royal throne room of Dominion.

  It was a vast place—the ceiling was so high up that it seemed there were dark clouds hanging above them. Two great pillars rose in the middle of the room, and a singed banner hung from one. The other pillar was bare, but Maria knew it had held its own banner many years ago—she had seen it in the vision that Duke, the dead boy, had shown her. The one remaining banner looked oddly like a domino. Maria thought about asking, but saw that Gramps was too emotionally drained to even talk. He walked slowly up the long, red carpet to the throne.

  Sherlock was sniffing around. He hit a spot that caused him to turn his head.

  “What?” Maria whispered.

  Dead bodies were here, Sherlock answered.

  Maria's heart sank. She knew of those dead bodies. One of them had been her father, the king. Claire must've noticed Maria's sullen look because she asked, “What is it?”

  Tabby caught the tone of the conversation. “I don’t think I want to know,” she decided.

  “You don’t,” Maria assured her.

  At the end of the carpet, Gramps used what looked like a stand that had once held a torch to lower himself to the floor. He got on one knee and bowed his head. The room was huge, but very quiet; Gramps’s voice drifted back toward them.

  “My king,” he whispered and clapped a fist to his heart.

  He got up slowly.

  Maria walked toward him. “This is where my father sat?”

  Gramps nodded.

  Maria looked over the throne. It was modest in comparison to the rest of the hall; just a chair, high-backed, with a plush seat of faded red. She then looked at the area in front of the throne. In Duke’s memory, Maria had seen the king splayed out on the floor, dead. Of course, she didn’t know that was her father, at the time.

  At least the Arachnids had the good grace to dispose of the bodies, she thought bitterly. But a deeper, darker part of her mind knew they had probably not ‘disposed of’ the bodies; they had probably eaten them, bones and all. The thought was enough to make her stomach churn.

  “I’ve never met a more honorable man,” Gramps was saying.

  Sherlock suddenly bounded past them and jumped onto the throne; as his weight settled on the cushion, a puff of dust exploded from its sides.

  “Down, Sherlock!” Gramps ordered.

  The Bloodhound whined.

  “The throne doesn’t belong to you, my canine friend.”

  Maria raised her eyebrows at Sherlock, and he came down reluctantly.

  Man, you guys never let me have any fun. First it was the Raffin, and now the throne…what’s next? I can’t even pee on a Gnome?

  “No, you can’t!” Maria scolded.

  “Why is Maria talking to herself?” Tabby asked. “Oh, right; I forgot she can talk to Sherlock. Wow, I’ll never get used to that.”

  “Think about how I feel,” Maria told her.

  “Could be worse,” Claire replied.

  Maria nodded.

  Once Sherlock moved out of the way, Maria followed in Gramps’s footsteps and got down on one knee, putting a clenched fist over her heart.

  “For the king,” she said. My father.

  Gramps looked at her, tears gleaming in his eyes, and smiled.

  Claire and Tabby followed suit.

  “Sherlock,” Maria said. “Sit.”

  Sherlock rolled his droopy eyes, but he did what he was told, even moving his right front leg as far as he could to the left in an attempt to look like the rest of them. It wasn’t perfect, but it was good enough.

  The tears in Gramps’s eyes spilled down his cheek. “I’m so lucky,” he said. “So lucky to have all of you in my life. Thank you. I needed this.”

  Maria hugged him.

  Claire and Tabby moved over and joined in on the hug. Even Sherlock barked and sniffed around their ankles. For a split second, Maria thought he was going to lift his leg. Thankfully, he didn’t; talk about ruining the moment. Instead, he weaseled his way into the middle of the group hug and barked until everyone reached down to pet him.

  “Little attention whore,” Maria rolled her eyes.

  I learned from the best, Sherlock answered with a wink.

  They parted, and Gramps took a deep breath. “I think I’ve seen enough for now—”

  The Bloodhound started to growl—a low rumbling that carried far in the great hall.

  “What is it?” Maria asked.

  “Oh, shit,” Tabby groaned. “I knew it. I knew I should’ve stayed home.”

  “Quiet,” Claire hissed and nudged her. Gramps
looked around the hall. The darkness was near complete in the corners; the only light coming from the window above them through which one of the moons shone.

  Maria thought of the glowing red eyes of Malakai and the other Arachnids she had seen in Duke’s memory. She saw none of those eyes now, but that didn’t mean other creatures weren’t lurking in the shadows, waiting for them.

  She gripped the hilt of her sword and pulled it free. She found that it was much easier to wield on Oriceran than it was on Earth. She also found that the strange buzzing coming from the music box was now thrumming through her entire body.

  Magic, she thought. This is a magical world, and I’m a magical being.

  It gave her confidence. She was ready to take on whatever Sherlock was sensing. His growling hadn’t stopped.

  “I think it’s best we leave. I fear we have overstayed our welcome,” Gramps whispered.

  Sherlock stopped growling long enough to say, You don’t say, old man.

  “What is it?” Maria asked the Bloodhound. “What did you hear?”

  But he didn’t have to answer, because suddenly, Maria heard it, too—the sound of many legs, clicking across the stone floor.

  The sound of Arachnids.

  ***

  Maria had never been one to run from confrontation, but with Tabby and Claire tagging along, it was the best option. She didn’t want her friends to get hurt because of her. They’d already come pretty close to it back at Salem’s Ice Cream, when they had run Malakai over with Claire’s car.

  What if that hadn’t worked? What if Malakai had bounced right off of the Kia, and wound up killing Claire and Tabby? Maria wouldn’t have been able to live with herself.

  She was beginning to regret bringing them along.

  “Go,” she whispered, ushering Claire and Tabby out of the hall first. She held her sword and looked back toward the throne.

  The Arachnids hadn’t appeared yet.

  “Back the way we came,” Gramps ordered.

 

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