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Protection of Magic: The Revelations of Oriceran (The Leira Chronicles Book 3)

Page 5

by Martha Carr


  "If I remember correctly, Light Elves take rigorous honesty very seriously." Eireka watched him, a slight smile on her face.

  "That was the truth. She'll have to ask better questions. Besides, if we take every phone call we'll never get out of here. All you'll remember of this day is me standing next to you, ignoring you, talking into the air. If we add a few selfies to the mix I fear my ears will permanently round themselves out."

  "Uh huh, I see your point. Sorry, I'm a little rusty with the humor. Nice glamour though. These things are addictive." She bit down on another Cheetos. "No, don't give him one. I can't imagine that's a good idea."

  "He's happily eating grapes. Besides, he's had his share of orange dust for the week, and I can't take the orange farts. It's like the troll is the sausage factory and I'm tired of seeing how the farts are made."

  "What should we see next?" Eireka looked up at the large wooden sign shaped like a cowboy boot outside of Allens boots. "We need cowboy boots. On me. Come on, I have that large pile of money from the hospital. One splurge."

  "A Light Elf in cowboy boots. Won't be ridiculous at all."

  "Maybe they'll have a tiny pair for a doll that we can buy Yumfuck."

  "Okay, now I'm intrigued." Correk tried brushing the orange powder off his hands but only managed to spread the crumbs around his front.

  "Don't move! I remember this one." Eireka pulled out a wipe, gently dabbing the front of his tunic.

  A young man wearing a Grateful Dead t-shirt walked by, his arm around his girlfriend. The girl was wearing a black lacy bra covered by a sheer top that only came halfway down her waist.

  "Nice outfit, dude. You heard of..."

  "Medieval Times, yes, very familiar. Like being home again," said Correk, as the couple kept walking down the street. Eireka giggled as she wiped off her fingers.

  "Is that the only reason someone might dress like this on the streets?" he asked.

  "Yes, yes it is." Eireka tried to do something resembling Leira's dead fish look but failed. She broke into laughter.

  "Fine," he said, laughing, "then let's take it the rest of the way home and try some cowboy boots on this mother."

  "You have been watching a lot of TV," said Eireka, rolling her eyes.

  A tiny rallying cry erupted from Correk's pocket. "Motherfuckers!" Correk held open the door to the store.

  "Nice ventriloquism," said an older woman wearing a white crocheted vest as she dropped a dollar in his hand. Eireka laughed as they wandered into the store and stood at the end of the aisles, their mouths open, staring at the rows upon rows of boots.

  "Can I help you?"

  A short young woman with a glossy dark ponytail and bright white teeth stood behind them. She was wearing jeans tucked into blue cowboy boots embroidered with gold thread.

  "I want those," said Eireka, pointing at the woman's boots. The woman smiled as Correk stared at her teeth. Eireka caught him pulling in just a little magic. She gave him a hard tap on the arm. "She's not one of us. Those are human teeth or at least made by humans and glossed to perfection. No magic."

  "I thought for sure that was a glamour."

  Eireka shrugged. "Of sorts, just the human kind. Come on, let's try on some boots. Oh look, they do have little tiny red ones!"

  "Those are for dollhouses. The little girls love them. You have one at home?" said the woman, still smiling as she pulled out a box. Eireka didn't even get a chance to answer. "Size seven, right? I can usually call 'em. What about you, big guy? Ready to join us here in Texas? Maybe start with some roach killer boots? Got just the pair for you. Have a seat." She pointed to a long bench. "I'll be right back. Don't move y'all," she said, as she disappeared around the corner, heading down a different aisle.

  "Why do I feel compelled to obey her?" asked Correk, smiling.

  "Texas women are not to be trifled with. Now you know where Leira got that from, along with her fierce loyalty. I wonder if I'll ever stop feeling guilty."

  "I believe you will, with time. I have this theory. Maybe it comes from living so many years. The bigger picture is a lot bigger. At first, we make so many mistakes, step on other people most of the time without even meaning to. Sometimes things just happen and you end up separated from the people you love. But...," he held up a finger, "then life takes another turn and suddenly things change. You get these strange do-overs that don't exactly resemble what you missed or what you wrecked but they're so close, you know it's another chance. And if you can just let go and be in the moment it heals even the deepest wounds."

  Eireka put a hand on Correk's arm. "Thank you for that. I suppose a hundred-year perspective comes in handy sometimes."

  "Imagine how full of myself I'll be at five hundred years. Keep your eyes open for them, Eireka. You'll get your chance to share a few moments with Leira you thought were lost. No magic necessary."

  "Like those teeth," she said, trying to smile.

  "Oh, those teeth are amazing! Earth has the most interesting things to offer that don't exactly have a function but I get drawn to them anyway."

  "Like a moth to a back porch light."

  "Here we go." The young woman was back with a short pile of larger boxes. "Size twelve I'm betting. Try these on first. Learn to do a little two-stepping in these bad boys." She pulled out a pair of dark brown leather boots with a buckle across the ankle. "And with your love of costume, you add a pair of tight jeans, a flannel shirt and a cowboy hat and with that long hair, you'll fit right in. The ladies will be all over you," she said, giving him a long wink.

  Correk started and looked down at the boots, doing his best not to make eye contact again.

  "Here, let me help you with the boots."

  "I've got it, thank you," he said, hurriedly. He floundered, pulling and twisting till he got both boots on and stood up, stamping his feet, his hands on his hips.

  "I can already see it," said Eireka.

  "What'd I tell you?" asked the woman.

  Eireka turned and noticed a pair of boots sitting in a box by another bench, waiting to be reshelved. They were maroon with pearl white stitching in a series of dots up and down the boots. Eireka went over and pulled out a boot, rubbing a finger down the front, feeling the soft leather. Leira would love these. She let out a worried sigh.

  "You should get them for her." Correk was standing next to her, standing a little taller in the boots. "She'll love them."

  "I don't know. I used to know." A lump caught in her throat.

  "She'll love them. Time she got out of running shoes from time to time. You've noticed what she wears on her hand."

  Eireka looked up, holding her breath for a moment.

  "My old ring. I noticed. The boots would be a start for all the things I couldn't buy her, didn't get to see her wear." She looked at the saleswoman still standing nearby.

  "We'll take all three. Hand me the boxes and I'll go pay for them." Eireka held up her hand, stopping Correk before he could protest. "My treat, I insist. Let me do something nice for a cousin. Most I've been able to buy anyone in a long time was something out of a vending machine."

  "Ain't that sweet." The young woman handed Correk her card. "You ever want to learn how to do a little dancing in those boots, you give me a call. Name's Brittany." She gave him another long, slow wink before stepping over the boxes, her hand already out, heading for another group of dazed tourists standing at the ends of the aisles, frozen to the spot. "Hi y'all, welcome to Allen's Boots. What are you looking for?" At the last moment, she turned around and blew Correk a kiss.

  Eireka gave a crooked smile as she slid the boxes onto the counter. "Wear them out," she said to Correk, before he could pull of the boots. "I want this tiny pair too," she added, grabbing a pair of the small, hand-stitched red doll boots. She rubbed the soft maroon boots again, daring to hope. "A small do over," she whispered to herself, a catch in her throat.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  They wandered out onto South Congress as passerby looked Correk up and down. Correk
was in his clothes from Oriceran and the cowboy boots, holding the shopping bags.

  An older man harrumphed as he passed him, muttering, "Weird, even for Austin."

  A couple of girls wearing UT hoodies smiled as they passed him, the shorter brunette turning around and saying, "I'd do him," as she looked right at him. Correk raised his eyebrows and was about to say something when a man holding a banjo next to his open case barked at him, "Move along man, you're taking away the focus. I'm working here!" The man rolled his eyes and did his best to shoo Correk away.

  "Do I look that odd?"

  "I can't decide if you look like a tourist who had a little too much cash to spend or a local who works at Medieval Times and just got off work. Nah, it's the tourist. Ooooh, hey, let's go over there!" Eireka was pointing across the street at a small parking lot in front of a church.

  "Spoken like a Berens woman," said Correk, scowling. "What's over there?"

  "The cupcake place. I haven't had one of those yet."

  "I've never tried the earthly version of them. We have something that's a little cake on Oriceran made with honey. Delightful. Oh, okay we're going..."

  Eireka was already running across the street as soon as the light changed, practically jogging down to the parked blue metallic Airstream with Cupcake Queen printed in maroon along the side in big letters. She got in the back of the short line scanning the wooden menu propped up near the Airstream.

  "I'll take a Double Dose, no... wait, a Bachelor Button... or a Peachy Queen." She was wringing her hands, looking back at the sign and looking up at the young man in the window.

  "Lady, it's just a cupcake. I work here and I don't get that excited."

  Eireka fixed him with a determined glare. "Ever been without the freedom to make a choice about when to turn out the lights or when you can even use a bathroom or what you might want to have for lunch? Then kindly shut the fuck up till you do. I'll take one of each... to go."

  "Double up on all the chocolate ones," said Correk, as he caught up to her. The man rolled his eyes and disappeared from the window for a minute, gathering the cupcakes.

  "Those look nothing like an Oriceran small cake. I have to admit, human Earthlings have perfected the art of pointless food. Bravo," he said, doing a small bow.

  Eireka laughed. "That bow kind of goes with your whole outfit. Hey, I have an idea. Can we try and find every kind of pointless food I haven't been able to eat for the past fifteen fucking years? Oh my God, goddammit, it even feels good to swear! Swear too much in there and it rattled the staff!" She opened her arms wide and leaned her head back, yelling, "I'm back motherfuckers!"

  A tall, thin older woman neatly dressed in jeans and an expensive suede jacket, her neck draped in jewelry raised her water bottle to Eireka. "Happy to have you back in the fold, motherfucker." A large charm bracelet jangled on her wrist as she smiled and kept on walking. Eireka looked at Correk and smiled. "Something cool about human beings, right?"

  The clerk was back at the window. "Yeah, yeah, kumbaya. Okay, come on, here's your order. Could you pay and kindly move away from my establishment? I asked nicely," he said, looking directly at Correk.

  "She's the scary one," said Correk, opening the box and taking out one of the Double Dose, biting into the chocolate buttercream. "Oh my gawf," he said enthusiastically, his mouth full of cake. "There is so much to discover about your planet."

  "Oh great, so crazy," said the young man. "Okay, move along."

  Eireka took out the Peachy Queen, taking as big a bite as she could and breaking off a chunk for the troll, pushing it into Correk's pocket. A tiny "Yumfuck, ooooh yumfuck," could be heard, drawing smiles from the few people in line.

  "You're super clever," said a thin young woman with straight brown hair that hung to her waist. She was smiling at Correk. "You like a street performer or something?"

  "I'm an advisor to a king, actually."

  "Okay, that's cool. Got to make your own reality sometimes," she said, nodding her head.

  Another tall, thin girl in the back of the line leaned out to get a better look at Correk and gave him a smile, and a small wave. As he walked by her she said quietly, "Hello Cousin," a common Oriceran greeting among the Light Elves. "Tell everyone back home hello from Kaycee." She looked up at him through her eyelashes and let her eyes glow for just a second. Correk smiled and nodded and kept walking, taking another bite of the cupcake.

  The young man in the Airstream was already busy grumbling at the next patron. At the last moment, before they got to the corner, Correk mumbled a spell under his breath and sent an annoying gnat to buzz around the young man's head for the rest of the day.

  Eireka looked at him. "That's kind of juvenile, you know."

  "Indeed. Best kind of magic some days."

  "Thank you."

  "You're welcome, motherfucker." He raised his cupcake in a toast.

  "That was awesome, wasn't it? Oooh, a crowd. Let's go see what's worth standing around for on the sidewalk."

  "You know, Eireka, I think you're in the middle of your own personal do over," said Correk, content to do his best to keep up, just a few feet behind her. "You remind me more of a teenager," he said, catching up to her at the edge of the crowd.

  "In Elven years I'm not even that old." She stood back from the front of the building and looked up. "The Continental Club. I remember this place! We used to sneak in here when I was a teenager way back in the 1980's. Geez, the last century. Look! It's Redd Volkaert!" she said, pointing to the white board propped up against the open door. "I saw him play his guitar back in the day! Let's go in!" Eireka didn't wait for an answer as she barreled past the doorman.

  The large man sitting on the stool by the door just gave a slow, lazy smile and waved Correk on in, saying, "Happens all the time when the good ones are here. She's just feeling it. Redd still has that effect on the ladies. No cover charge, just remember to tip generously. Have a good time."

  They found a small table at the back and two chairs. Correk put the box of cupcakes on the table and slid the shopping bags underneath. The crowd was an even mix of baby boomers and millennials in Austin's version of party clothes. Jeans, t-shirt and a jacket. A waitress came by and shouted over the music, "What'll you have?" squinting, as she listened for their order.

  "Something local and a little different," shouted Eireka. "I'll let you choose."

  "How about a Wild Bear? Ten months in oak barrels and just won a gold medal," shouted the waitress.

  Leira gave her a thumbs up and Correk raised two fingers, nodding.

  Eireka leaned in closer so she could be heard. Correk leaned down to listen. "Thank you for being willing to wander the streets with me," she said.

  "I'm having quite the time. Thank you for being brave enough to head out into the street. And for the boots," he said holding up a foot. The waitress was already back depositing two glasses on their table.

  "Cheers," said Eireka. "Here's to whatever the future holds as long as its with my tribe, whatever that means."

  "Well put," said Correk, taking a swallow. "Damn, that's good. Wonder how it would go with a cupcake."

  "Let's find out." Eireka bit down into a Bachelor Buttons chocolate and cream cheese cupcake, washing it down with a swig of beer. She nodded, giving a shrug. "Not bad, not bad at all," she shouted, chocolate still clinging to her lips.

  Redd swung into another song, leaning back with his guitar propped against his lap. He leaned forward in time to sing the chorus into the mic.

  "What do you call that?" Correk swayed to the music.

  Eireka laughed and leaned across the table. "Country music. Like a story set to a tune. A lot like the way Light Elves on Oriceran talk to each other when you think about it."

  Redd was singing the chorus from a Waylon Jennings song. "Now you better do some thinkin' then you'll find, you got the only daddy that'll walk the line." He leaned back and played his six-string as Correk looked around, creating a tunnel between himself and Eireka and light
ing up the other Oricerans in the room. The glowing figures dotted the room. Eireka touched his arm to connect her energy, helping him. She took a look around at the different spots of light.

  "You know, there were a few magical people in the psych ward with me," she said, speaking into the tunnel. "Some fared better than others."

  "Leira made it a condition of her new job that everyone is released. She'll make sure they live up to their word. Your daughter is very tenacious."

  "She actually gets that from my mother." Eireka wiped her mouth with the small white napkin. She licked her lips and watched Redd sing for a moment. The pain washed across her face for just a moment.

  "I can't promise you anything but I'll at least give it everything I have," said Correk.

  "You have someone in there too, don't you?"

  "An old friend. He fought alongside my father against Rhazdon. Dark magic ripped open an unstable portal during that last great battle. My friend, Malik, pushed my father out of the way but fell into the void. My father died anyway." Correk took a long swig from his beer. "I have never caught another glimpse of him. I don't even know if he was truly alive when he fell in or died from the spell that was aimed at my father." He shook his head. "Rhazdon caused so much harm. I’m grateful every day he was brought down in that fire."

  "I'm sorry. You know exactly what I'm going through but you didn't say anything. You're a good friend. We'll find a way, together."

  A small furry head suddenly appeared out of Correk's pocket. Eireka's eyes opened wide and she smiled despite her alarm. Correk looked down just in time to see the troll bound out of his pocket and bounce off the table and onto the floor, scrambling for the stage.

  "Two moons!" shouted Correk, standing up, trying to catch a glimpse of green hair scampering by everyone's feet. "Damnable thing loves music. They all do. Almost as much as food."

 

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