Magic Underground: The Complete Collection (Magic Underground Anthologies Book 4)

by Melinda Kucsera

  “I’m satisfied,” she announced. “Call me if you have someone or something you’d like me to appraise… like that scarab you just won. In the meantime, I am going to see you at the Gem Show in Chicago again this year, am I right?”

  “You are,” he replied coyly. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “I’m thinking I might need to go to Zorba’s again with you. My taste-buds ache for orzo and ouzo, and my feet yearn to dance in circles!”

  “Carol, my dear,” he said, “I think this is going to be a long and beautiful friendship.”

  “I believe it is, my friend, it already is.” She saw the face again in the dispersing crowd, and this time recognized it as Gertrude’s other daughter, Bobbi. She must have been waiting for Carol for some time, at least while the Tarot-Show was going on. “I have to go now, Freddie. There’s someone I’m supposed to be meeting with. It was so good to see you and, although it was an obvious trap, I’m glad to have lost to you. I stole it from you first, after all. At least I know where that ring is. And now I will always know what you’re going to do with it.”

  “Absolutely,” he said. “Be well, my dear. I’ll see you in Chicago when next we meet!” And he gave his flourishing bow and went behind the velvety back curtain of the fortuneteller’s stage.

  Carol moved out into the walkway and greeted Bobbi.

  “Hi, Aunt Carol. What was that all about? I’ve been looking for you for hours!” She looked a little frazzled.

  “Oh, nothing really. Just making a gambit. I had to sacrifice a pawn; I think it will pay off in the end. So, tell me, what’s it like being up in that haunted Fort?”

  As Carol slipped her arm in Bobbi’s and they wandered off together, she knew, without knowing, that her words would someday come true.

  To read more about Carol’s adventures, written by Leah W. Van Dinther, get the other two books in the Magic Underground trilogy: Hidden Magic and Wayward Magic. Also check out Ghost Stalkers at: http://www.ghost-stalkers.com/

  About the Author

  Born in Philadelphia, Leah W. Van Dinther never wanted to fit into the mold of “normal.” She spent her childhood around old buildings, art, society, and horses, and usually had her nose buried in a book. She accumulated knowledge like a hoard of treasure and, at some point in her younger years, realized that her greatest wish (outside of horses) was to have a library like the one in Alexandria. Lo-and-behold, the Internet was invented, and her wish came true!

  Leah has been a poet, a writer, a waitress, a cook, a dessert-chef, a Montessori teacher, an artist, a rock-star, and a horse trainer. She still accumulates knowledge like it’s going out of style and in a dizzying array of topics. No really, it would make your head spin.

  She married a wonderful artist/musician/author/chef who challenges her, supports her, helps her, and loves her unconditionally to this day. His smile also makes her weak in the knees.

  After spending twenty-two years in Western Montana, Leah now lives in California with her family, and her horses, Badger and Zeina. She is very glad to be up in the mountains, but thankful that there is not so much snow.

  For more information about the author, please visit: http://www.ghost-stalkers.com.

  The Ones Who Choose

  C. S. Johnson

  “The Ones Who Choose” is the final story within my Omelas Revisited series. In the conclusion to Skyla’s story, she struggles with the pains reality brings, heightening her appreciation and terror at her life before she knew of the Bloodmagic that binds the young boy to the town’s suffering. There is truly magic at work in the world, and the darkest magic of all comes from evil. Pain, suffering, shame, and despair can all work magic in our lives, and it is truly thanks to the power of love—especially the sacrificial love of truth—that we can be free to reflect, return, and multiply any goodness in this world. While Skyla’s story has some limitations and power our reality doesn’t, her choices can inspire us all to own our suffering and help carry others’ pains.

  C. S. Johnson

  Thanks to Skyla and Aiden, Ai is free and the magic surrounding the City is weakening. But now, unexpected danger and chaos reign. Can Skyla find a way to save the city before it's too late for everyone?

  The Ones Who Choose

  It was past nightfall as I ran through the City by the Sea. After the sun went down and the night only offered starlight, I’d left Ai in the seaside caves with Aidan.

  Now I was trying to outrun my fear and hoping against hope there was something better to run toward.

  “I fear you’ve condemned us all.”

  The words, so stark and hopeless, slapped through my mind, again and again, pulling at the pain in my heart.

  The harshness of the air, strangely full of ash and mist, beat into my mouth as I panted, setting my lungs on fire. There was a storm coming, and I instinctively knew it would be much worse than the usual ones we had in our seaside town.

  “Ouch,” I whimpered, rubbing the back of my hand against my forehead. The shard I’d had placed there since my birth buzzed with frightful anger, and I didn’t know if it was because I was feeling it myself, or if the Community thought I was supposed to feel it.

  A gash of lightning struck across the skies, and at the resounding, thunderous clap that crashed in time with the flicker of lights, I stumbled and fell. My knee scraped against the ground, and I could feel the sting of blood rushing out of my bruised skin.

  No one took away my pain this time.

  I sobbed, the sound jarring against the ominous darkness of the oncoming storm. Endless questions about my pain, and why I deserved it, and how this could happen, and how I was going to ever recover from this—all of these questions overwhelmed me and left me crying louder.

  Is this because of Ai?

  At the thought of the boy Aidan and I had rescued, I started to calm down. My tears slowed instead of disappearing, and I took several deep, gulping breaths as I sat on the ground, clutching my blood-covered knee, moping over my injury as much as the damage to my new dress. The white lacy fabric absorbed the scarlet of my blood as quickly as the lightning shot through the sky, and it was a long moment that I sat there, mourning.

  Despite all of that foreign pain and dread, it was nothing when compared to the truth.

  I suffered now because of my own actions, instead of those consequences being transferred to Ai, the small boy my Community had tortured for an unknown time, using him and strange technology and something Ai referred to as “Bloodmagic” to absorb all of the Community’s ills.

  At that thought, I touched the shard on my forehead again, and as my fingertips grazed it, it began to hum almost angrily.

  There was a shard on Ai’s forehead, too, one I’d seen grow bloody red with pain and suffering. I nearly doubled over as I recalled the first time I saw him. My stomach heaved with a stitch in my side, and I nearly cried out, fearing the worst at the sudden sickness.

  After an easy life of perfection, only understanding the Imperfect Past as stories and facts about humanity’s previous times, I was not used to suffering from my own pain.

  I hated feeling weak, even more than I hated feeling helpless.

  I struggled to stand, positioning myself against the wind and storm, as I limped forward, heading for my home.

  Together with Aidan—the one who loved me, the one who’d lived next to me all my life—I had freed Ai from his captivity in the tower, the one where the City by the Sea had come to celebrate the Summer Festival and the Learning Ceremony. It was the very ceremony where we were inducted into the Community as full members, if we decided to stay in the city. If we wanted to leave, we were granted that right.

  Thanks to Aidan’s distraction, I’d been able to take the wounded, malnourished boy to the caves down by the oceanfront. Several hours had passed since his rescue, and I needed to go and get something to help Ai with all his sustained injuries.

  After all those years of experiencing such pain, Ai was badly injured, suffering, and
he told me it was only because of Bloodmagic that he was alive. Now that he was free of the Community’s prison, the bond he had with the Bloodmagic was weakening, and if I didn’t help him, he would die.

  I have to get home.

  Death—something only the Elders in my Community ever oversaw—propelled me forward like nothing else.

  I had to help Ai. After all he had suffered, it was the least I could do.

  I needed my sewing kit, maybe some of my older clothes to use as bandages; if I could find anything for him to eat, that might help, too. Of course, even if I did have something that could help heal him entirely, I didn’t know if it would be enough to help with the Bloodmagic Ai told me about.

  I slowed to a stop, as I finally spotted my house. It was brightly lit, the windows pouring out light, but even from where I was, I could hear my House Mother and House Father fighting; upstairs, River was in his room, yelling at both of them to shut up and smashing the glass out of the window panes.

  Ai’s earlier warning about Bloodmagic came back to me, strong and certain.

  “He wasn’t lying,” I whispered, nearly choking on the words. “This is terrible.”

  Before I’d left to return home, Ai started talking to me about the Bloodmagic.

  After I’d rescued him from the tower, I had taken him down to the caves. I’d settled him in one as best as I could, and then faced the cave entrance, keeping a lookout for Aiden. I was more concerned for Aidan at first; I didn’t know if he was coming or not. There was a good chance that when Ai was taken, the Community Elders would find a way to keep everyone in the tower until they had answers. As much as we were both in this together, I didn’t know what to expect now that we’d accomplished something this big.

  But as Ai kept talking to me, and considering his talk of condemnation, I began to ask Ai questions. It didn’t take us long to talk about Bloodmagic.

  “Bloodmagic is their word for the sacrifice,” Ai said.

  “What?” My head snapped to look at him, as if to make sure he wasn’t trying to fool me. Instantly, I regretted my action, seeing his mangled body and the sad condition it was in. That was part of the reason I’d offered to stand watch in the caves, keeping my focus on the entrance. While I did not want the Community Elders to find us, and although I was watching for Aidan, I did not want to look at Ai too much. He made me feel uncomfortable.

  Ai slumped beside me, looking out toward the cave entrance. The last of the sunlight was gone, and the temperature dropped. Ai did not seem to notice, even if he was nearly naked, with only a thin cloth around his loins.

  “They call humanity’s curse ‘Bloodmagic,’” Ai said. “That is their name for it. I don’t think they like to think about it much.”

  “If this is why you’ve been hurt, they probably don’t like to think of it,” I said. I glanced at him quickly, before reverting my eyes back to the cave entrance. “This is terrible.”

  “It is,” Ai agreed. “But it is like I told you before. All of my suffering is your suffering.”

  “That’s not right.”

  He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I have been alive for nearly a century, thanks to the Bloodmagic, and this is just the way things are. That is why I would prefer that you return me to my tower room.”

  “What?” I gasped at the remark. “No. Why would you want that?”

  “The Community won’t survive long, Skyla,” Ai said. “Without the Bloodmagic Covenant, the full effects of suffering will return to your friends and family swiftly and mercilessly. They will suffer, and in their suffering, they will make others suffer more. They might even begin to enjoy hurting others if we don’t hurry.”

  “But you will suffer if you return,” I said. “And I will make you suffer, too. I don’t want that. Can’t something else be done about the Bloodmagic?”

  “There is nothing that can be done about human nature,” Ai said quietly. “We are prone to self-destruction, and we live in a world where pain and suffering are constants. All the countries and nations of the world have wrestled with this question, and in the end, all of the pain still exists. Many tried to fix the problem and only made it worse.

  “So they decided to try something else. And it works.” He reached up and touched the shard on his forehead, the one what was darkening along with the sky. “If I am not returned, the suffering will only increase, and you will see people at their very worst. Every evil, selfish, and ignorant thought will manifest into danger and disaster. I’ve been able to hold off their degeneracy for a long time, and without me, they will exponentially become violent and careless.”

  “Surely we still have some more time to stop them.” I put my hands together, trying to think of something else. “Maybe it is a matter of education. The adults here are smart. They’ll be able learn how to deal with the pains our Community has.”

  Ai shook his head. “You don’t understand,” he said with a sad sigh. “But you will, once you see it. You must promise me you will not forget me when you do, or you could be at risk, too.”

  From that moment, we lapsed into silence, and I was grateful.

  I shivered as we sat there, but I didn’t think it was because of the chill in the air.

  I began to understand what Ai had meant as I opened the door to my house.

  Mother Annika, my House Mother, was wailing as she moved about the kitchen, where earlier that day, she’d been busy baking for the Summer Festival.

  “My pies,” she cried, pulling a smoking bundle out of the oven. I could smell the burnt peaches wafting up, filling the room as she whirled around and faced my House Father.

  “What are you whining about now, woman?” My House Father, Albert, was even louder than Mother Annika, but he was clearly more angry than anything else. “I told you to shut your mouth, and if you were smart, you’d never open it again. After everything that’s happened today, I need peace and quiet!”

  “I didn’t hear the oven’s timer go off because all you’ve been doing is yelling!” Mother Annika threw her burning pie onto the floor. It smashed, sending mushy peaches all over the kitchen. “For a man who needs peace and quiet, you sure don’t like to shut up yourself!”

  “You both need to shut up,” River yelled from upstairs. “It’s nighttime, and I want to go to sleep. This is why you’re both terrible parents, and I hate you!”

  I bit my lip, trying to swallow my whimper. Father Albert had always been so soft-spoken, so kind and generous. Hearing him yell was enough to make me want to run and hide, and I could only squeeze my eyes shut against the terror I faced from those around me. They were my family, but I did not recognize them.

  It was only the thought of Ai suffering and Aidan depending on me that allowed me to it and slip inside.

  Immediately, I regretted it.

  “Oh, look who’s home at last,” Father Albert said. “And just where were you, Skyla?”

  “I was … around,” I said, feeling guilty at the lie, even if I felt it was necessary.

  “Were you with Aidan?” Father Albert scoffed. “If you want to keep him interested in you for a House Mother, you really should watch how much time you spend with him.”

  “Yes,” Mother Annika agreed. “It’s better to scare him off early, before the contract is final. Or you’ll get stuck with a loser like Albert for a House Father.”

  “Who is the loser here?” Father Albert snapped back. “You can’t even bake pies right. Erika’s the best pie baker in the Community. I could have had her for a House Mother instead of you!”

  “If you want pie, I’ll give you some pie!” Mother Annika screamed back, and while she bent down and began to fling pie remnants at Father Albert, I fled to the stairs.

  I had just placed my foot on the top floor when I heard a smack!

  My hand went over my mouth as the sound repeated itself, and Mother Annika began to scream. Tears welled up in my eyes, as I realized what was happening. My House Father began to berate her as he hit her, condemning her f
or her ingratitude and her insolence.

  This has to stop.

  Before I could yell at them, River came out of his room.

  His eyes were hard as they met mine. “Oh, there you are,” he said. “Aidan’s newest plaything, I guess. Perhaps I should offer you my congratulations, but I feel more obliged to give him my sympathies.”

  “Don’t talk to me.” My voice was hoarse as I hurried past him, heading for my room. I needed my sewing kit, I reminded myself, and then I could leave. I could leave and go back to Aidan.

  If he was still himself, too.

  “Aidan’s too good for you,” River scoffed, following me into my room. “I don’t know what he was thinking. You’re nothing special.”

  I ignored him as I grabbed my sewing kit. Remembering the coolness of the cave, I took my jacket as well.

  “Maybe he’s dumber than I thought,” River said. “It never occurred to me that he would be stupid enough to pick you as a House Partner. Or maybe he thought it would be better to have a stupid House Mother, so he wouldn’t have a hard time telling you what to do.”

  “Aidan’s not stupid,” I snapped. After all the years of finding my frustrations taken away before they could take root and come to fruition, a new sense of freedom ran through me as I faced River. “You’re the stupid one, if you can’t see I don’t want to talk to you.”

  River snarled. “We’ll see who’s stupid,” he said, and then he tried to punch me.

  I ducked and hurried out of my room, slamming the door behind me. I winced as River pounded on it and hoped I would be able to keep him back.

  “Let me out, Skyla!” I heard him walk away and then run for the door: he planned to crash into it and push me aside.