She is only nineteen, Ignatius. Hardly an adult. Two days ago, her biggest concerns involved popcorn; now the fate of an entire world rests on her shoulders. My posture would be stooped, too.
“Gramps?”
He started.
“Oh, sorry, sorry, just trying to get my thoughts in order. It’s been a rough couple of days, hasn’t it?”
“You’re telling me,” Maria answered, yawning again. Sherlock mimicked her, though Ignatius thought it was purely out of infatuation, not lethargy. Ever since he had brought Sherlock home over a decade ago, Maria and he had been inseparable. The Bloodhound had proven his worth with his ability to sniff out nearly anything—dark magic, included—but it was the bond between his granddaughter and the dog that really made Ignatius feel like he had chosen the right puppy. Sure, he could be quite ornery at times, digging in the trashcan, bringing home dead animals as presents, and, as of late, urinating on Gnomes, but none of that bothered Ignatius, because Sherlock was family.
“Oh, Grandfatherrrrrr…”
This time, Ignatius didn’t startle. He just turned to Maria and smiled softly.
“The plans?” Maria asked again. She then looked down at Sherlock and chuckled. The dog must’ve made a snide comment—turned out he was quite good at that.
“The plans are simple, my dear,” Ignatius said, turning a watchful eye on Sherlock, who did not shrink beneath Ignatius’s gaze. “You shall go on home, and I will visit Ves Ielan in search of the Gnome Gelbus.”
Maria’s forehead wrinkled, her mouth frowned. “What!? No way. This isn’t your quest. It’s our quest.”
“Maria, dear, as powerful as you’ve become, I don’t believe you are ready for the horrors of Ves Ielan just yet. You need rest. Besides, have you forgotten about the nice gentlemen who sought you out at Salem’s with a bouquet of roses already? He will be waiting for you soon enough.”
“But—” Maria protested, and Ignatius cut her off.
Ah, she is so much like my dear Zimmy.
“No buts, Maria. A shared quest such as ours requires many moving parts. Everyone must pull their own weight.
Maria was shaking her head. “No, Gramps, I can’t.”
“You must and you will. I, as leader of this quest, order you.” He raised his voice to a steady boom. Those back at the invisible Elven castle surely heard the drifting echoes of his words.
“Why? I’m okay, I promise! I can fend for myself.” Maria’s hands shook, but her face was fearful.
She is scared, worried because she cares about you—an old wizard from a forgotten village. It is more than you deserve, Ignatius.
“You may very well have to fend for yourself before our journey is over, but until then, go back home to Earth and rest. Check on Tabitha. Rest some more. And enjoy your date with that nice young man. Be normal while you still can, Maria.”
“I’m not normal. I never was. Normal is boring.”
Ignatius couldn’t help himself. He chuckled.
“You are right about that, but I don’t mean normal in the same sense that you do. There is Earth normal, where you work a nine-to-five with health insurance, dental insurance, and a 401k, and then there’s normal-normal, as in you don’t communicate with spirits trapped in the world between or Bloodhounds, and lastly, there is nineteen-year-old normal, where you go on dates and laugh with your friends and enjoy your life. I want that for you, Maria. I want you to not fear or worry. I want you to be nineteen-year-old normal.”
Maria smiled, but there was still rebellion in her eyes; eyes that were the same shade as her mother’s.
Zimmy, I’ve lost you already; I’m so sorry, but I cannot lose another, he thought.
The wind blew. It had a sharpness to it that reminded him of the beginning of an Ohio winter.
“Go, Maria. I will be back with the information and when I have it, I will need you to save the village. I will need you for the most important part, my dear. You are not safe here with the music box. There are too many after you.”
“But—”
Sherlock suddenly barked. Maria leaned down to talk to him.
“You think so?” she asked.
Sherlock nodded. That was easy enough to understand.
“Fine,” Maria said, looking back to Ignatius. “I’ll go back…for now. But if you die, I’m gonna kill you!”
Ignatius chuckled again. “You have your mother’s sense of humor.”
Maria said nothing. She looked longingly up to the rising sun and purplish sky.
Ignatius raised his hand and held it out to her. Glaring at it, she sighed, but she finally took it. Then each of them took one of Sherlock’s paws as he sat up on his hind legs, his droopy eyes watchful. The circle was closed, and the singing began.
Not long after, a portal was opened, and Ignatius was looking into the living room of his house, where his comfy recliner sat in front of his television, its screen dark and devoid of The Young and the Restless and General Hospital. Ah, how he longed for the comfort of his own home, for the warmth of the blankets on his lap, and a cold Coca-Cola nearby that he could sip at his own leisure.
He looked away, back at Maria. “Go on,” he said. “The both of you.”
Sherlock padded up to him and sat on his haunches. He put his paw up. This stunned Ignatius. He had never done this before. The shaking trick was exclusive to Maria.
“He wants me to tell you he loves you,” Maria said.
A tear welled up in Ignatius’s eye. “I love you, too, Sherlock. You’re a good boy.”
Sherlock’s tail wagged, fanning the long grass in every direction.
“And I love you, Maria, my dear. I will see you soon.”
She nodded, a sad smile on her face.
With that, she and Sherlock disappeared through the portal. It closed moments after, as the song playing inside of Ignatius’s head stilled. He looked out to the distant mountains and prayed to any Gods that would listen to keep Maria and Sherlock safe, and to help guide him on this journey.
***
Maria looked back over her shoulder, at her grandfather standing there in that alien field.
Then the portal closed, and he was gone; she hoped not forever.
Oh, thank God, home sweet, home. Let me out, I need to use the bathroom.
“Again?” Maria snapped, and then she sighed. “Fine.”
They went out the back door and onto the porch. Sherlock took off into the tall grass. An odd feeling came over Maria, and she turned around.
She could see the marks from Malakai, when he’d tried to break in and get the music box only days ago; it had felt so much longer than that.
I guess that’s what traveling across worlds does to you.
Sherlock started barking, and Maria’s heart dropped into her stomach. The image of Malakai was too fresh in her mind, but as she looked out at her frolicking dog—a word she’d learned from Gramps—she realized he was only barking at a moth flapping its wings through their backyard.
She shook her head and laughed.
It was early in the morning. She still had tons of time to get ready for her date with Joe. As much as she wanted to use that time to help Gramps, she couldn’t deny how sleepy she was. She didn’t just want it; her body craved it.
“C’mon, dummy!” she yelled out to Sherlock, who stopped snapping at thin air as the moth floated high above him, and looked sheepishly back to her.
Five more minutes! C’mon!
“No, you did your business. Can’t trust you not to go around and pee on anyone. You’re on pee-probation.”
Sherlock slinked back toward the porch, his head down and his ears drooping over his eyes.
“That sad puppy dog face doesn’t work when you’re ancient, buddy.”
If I had a middle finger, I’d use it, he replied.
“You know what? Last time I was at Pet’s Mart, I saw adult doggy diapers. The dog on the picture looked particularly miserable. I happen to have some extra money. Why don’t I take
a trip down there and pick up a few so you don’t go all fire hose on anymore Gnomes?”
NO! You wouldn’t.
“I would.” Maria crossed her arms and tapped her foot.
Fine, you win again. No fun.
“Oh, cool it. It’s normal not to pee on Gnomes, you know?”
Says who?
“Society.”
Screw society. I’m a dog. I’ll pee on whatever the hell I want to pee on.
“Then you’ll wear diapers and only pee on yourself.”
Sherlock rolled his eyes and went into the house. Maria closed the door behind him.
“But I will give you a treat because I’m not that much of a bitch.” She pulled a Milkbone out of the box and tossed it to him. He snatched it like he was a puppy, young and spry. “Remind me to never put another one of those in my pocket again.”
You had one in there? Oh, man, I thought I smelled it! Figured I was just hallucinating from the Oriceran berries I ate.
Maria’s hand came up and pinched the bridge of her nose. “You’re telling me you were eating berries in a strange world? You must be kidding.”
Sherlock stifled a burp. Nope, he said, baring his teeth in what looked like a snarling grin. I eat everything, you know that.
All she could do was shake her head. “Okay, I’m taking a nap.”
Right, I could use one, too. We gotta get our beauty rest for our date with Joe.
“Our date?” Maria snorted. “I think you’re gonna have to sit this one out, Sherlock.”
What? I thought we were going to Applebee’s…you know, three for twenty bucks.
“It’s two for twenty bucks, and hell no. I won’t have you farting, and Joe thinking it was me.”
I’ll plug it up. Come on! Don’t let me miss out on Applebee’s.
“I’ll bring something home for you, I promise.”
Grumbling, Sherlock said, Fine.
Upstairs they went, but not before Maria grabbed her cell phone off the kitchen counter. She dialed Tabby’s number. She didn’t answer. So she called Claire instead. Like usual, Claire was playing on her phone, and answered on the first ring.
“Hello? Maria? W-T-F, are you calling me from Oriceran? Whatever cell service you have, I want!” Claire said.
“No, no, I’m back.”
“Did you save that village already? Damn, girl, you’re killing it.”
“Also no,” Maria answered glumly. “Gramps wanted me to come back because he had to track down a rogue Gnome at some hardcore bar or something like that. I didn’t want to come back, but he was dead serious, and rather than piss him off, I figured I’d come back to appease him.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on,” Claire said. “Did you just say a rogue Gnome?”
“Yep.”
“What is life? Geez, just yesterday I was worried about missing the new season of the Kardashians, and here I am talking to one of my best friends about Gnomes and magical music boxes. Do you think I need to get my passport stamped now that I’ve been to Oriceran? Or that I need to get vaccinations or something…you know, like be quarantined for a certain number of weeks because I’ve been to alien lands?”
“Claire, you’re rambling. But my answers are no, no, and maybe.”
“Maybe!?”
“Kidding. I think we’re all right. Earth and Oriceran are tied together. Family, in a way. We’ll be okay.” Maria paused. “Listen, the reason I’m calling is because I’m wondering how Tabby is doing? Does she hate me?”
“Oh! I’m sitting with her right now!”
“You are? Where? Her house?”
“No, we’re in the hospital. You only left us a few hours ago. They’re just doing a routine check up.”
Guilt washed over Maria. “But she’s okay? You didn’t tell them what happened…did you?”
“Yeah, Maria, we told the nurses and doctors that Tab got attacked by a couple of giant spiders. Yeah, totally.”
Maria laughed. “I’m sorry, I’m just a little high-strung. It’s been an odd few days. Can I talk to Tabby?”
“She’s actually sleeping right now. Doc said she can go, but the hospital beds are just so damn comfy, you know?”
“I don’t, but speaking of beds, I’m going to find mine. I’ll text you after the date and let you know how it went.”
It was then that Claire squeee-ed so loudly that Maria had to hold the phone away from her ear unless she wanted permanent hearing loss. The squee-ing went on for a solid twenty seconds, Maria asked, “Are you done?”
To which Claire replied with more squee-ing.
Finally, the line went quiet. Maria was scared to say anything for some time at the risk of more of Claire’s squee-ing.
“Okay, okay, I’m done. Promise me one thing, Maria.”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t take Sherlock on the date with you. Please.”
Hey, I heard that! Sherlock said from the hallway. Remember I’m a dog. I have supersonic hearing.
Maria waved him away.
You tell Claire her invitation to Dog Prom is officially revoked.
The phone came away from Maria’s ear. She covered the mouthpiece with her hand. “Wait—what? What the hell is Dog Prom? You know what, never mind.” Then back to Claire, “Don’t worry, I’m not going to take him. He’s going to stay home and be a good boy…unless he wants diapers.”
“Diapers? No, just quit feeding him bacon and eggs. It does not smell good coming out the other end.”
The two girls broke out into uncontrollable laughter. When that subsided, they said their goodbyes, Maria asking Claire to make sure Tabby called or texted her as soon as she woke up, and Claire promising she would—but knowing Claire, she probably forgot the moment she pressed the ‘END’ button.
Maria changed into a pair of sweats and a tank top. She took the music box out of the satchel, and hung the sword belt up on one of her bedposts.
When she settled in to her soft mattress, and the covers were pulled snugly up to her chin, she opened the box. That sweet music played, a chorus of angels singing her to sleep. Her eyelids grew heavier, her heart rate slowed. She was only dimly aware of Sherlock jumping up on her bed and snuggling up next to her, but she wouldn’t have made him get down even he had a dead squirrel clamped between his jaws.
Ah, home sweet home.
***
“MARIA!” the voice shouted at her.
She knew that voice. It was a friend, a friend in pain.
Where was she? She looked around. The forest was dark and brooding, closing in on the clearing she stood in. Across the way, a dark figure moved toward her.
Fear choked her throat. She wanted to call out and ask who it was, but she could not.
“MARIA!”
The figure stopped about twenty feet away. It was too dark out. She couldn't read his features.
Then he reached a hand out toward her.
“Maria, you have to go! He can’t slay it alone!”
Finally she found her voice, but it came out in a croak. “Duke?”
“Yes, Maria, it’s me.”
“Duke, where are we? I thought you passed on. I thought you went to Heaven.”
“I did, Maria, but I’ve come back to warn you.”
The strength seemed to go out of her legs, causing her to wobble. She caught a nearby branch. It was ice cold to the touch.
Was that branch this close before?
No, she thought, it wasn’t.
The forest was the fear, that much she knew; or at least a representation of the fear that was closing in around her. Closer. Closer. Closer.
“What are you warning me about?”
“The Dragon Tongue… They have risen to the call of Rhazdon once more. What is dead may never truly die. They are there, Maria! They are there!”
“Where?” she shouted back. “Duke! Where?”
But it was too late. The dark, misty figure he had become began to wither away. Grains of sand caught in the wind.
&nb
sp; “Duke!”
“Go, Maria! Go—”
The worst screech Maria had ever heard—Can I even hear in a dream? Because that’s what this is, she thought, a dream—sliced through her eardrums.
The forest, now so close to her she could feel the leaves brushing against her skin, swayed violently back and forth, as if caught in a great thunderstorm. But there was no rain, no thunder, no lighting.
A large creature rose into the air—the source of the terrible screeching, which now bled into an earth-rumbling roar. As it extended its wings and hovered, they stretched long enough to block out the light from the two moons.
Maria reached for her sword and found it was not there.
Then all she saw as the creature swooped down on her were two blazing orange eyes the size of twin suns hanging in the sky…and fire.
CHAPTER EIGHT
She woke up screaming, soaked in her own sweat, her t-shirt and sweatpants plastered to her skin. Sherlock was at the end of the bed, on his back, his legs in the air, his paws twitching. Probably dreaming of chasing Raffins or peeing on Gnomes, she thought.
Outside, the sun was on its way down. Fear struck her almost as hard as it had in her dream—Just a dream, that’s all it was. Thank God.
But she shot up out of bed, causing Sherlock to jump and scream, What is it? Is it the Gnomes!? I’ll kill ‘em.
Maria glanced at her nightstand. Her phone wasn’t there. Where did it go? Why didn’t she have a clock in her room? She jammed her arm between the nightstand and the bed. Rubber. She felt rubber on her fingertips.
“There it is!”
What? What? Gnomes? They followed us, the bastards. I knew it!
She snatched it, ignoring Sherlock and saw the time. It was already 6:00 p.m.—her date was in less than an hour.
WHAT IS IT!?
“Sorry, Sherlock,” she said. “I thought I was late for my date.”
Not cool, Maria. He snarled and stared at her blankly. I have to go outside, like yesterday.
The Midwest Wanderer: The Revelations of Oriceran (Midwest Magic Chronicles Book 2) Page 10
