Myths and Magic: An Epic Fantasy and Speculative Fiction Boxed Set

by K.N. Lee

  Across the room from my eager friend, I dropped down onto the loveseat, and ignored the huffs and puffs she directed at me. It wasn’t possible to continue my avoidance any longer, Jazz wouldn’t allow it. She was only giving me time to adjust, to get my thoughts in order, very generous coming from her. Jazz was an impatient one, a side of her I was well acquainted with.

  She sat up, threw her arms in the air, and groaned. “So, how long is this going to take?”

  “What?” anything, including playing dumb for was worth a shot if it would hold off the conversation she had come to have.

  “Look, I know you’ve been out of the real world for a while, but damn!” She sat up on the couch and faced me with stern eyes. “Dish…now!”

  “What is it that you want to know?” I fluttered my eyelashes innocently playing with fire.

  “Everything,” she rolled her eyes and sucked her teeth.

  “More specific please,” buying more time, I smiled.

  “Okay, so now I have to put on my detective hat and dig for the dirt?” She crossed her legs shaking her foot in the air. “Where did y'all go?”

  “Go?” I tried to look perplexed, but only managed a sad level of childish mocking.

  “Well, I know for a fact that you didn’t come straight home.” She smiled slyly making no effort to hide her pride about her insight.

  “How?”

  She cocked her head to the side and winked. Jazz had eyes and ears all over Chicago, and finding out whether I came home or not wouldn’t exactly be a challenge for her.

  “Stop stalling and tell me what happened.”

  “Nothing happened,” I lied. “Well, at least nothing that you would consider interesting.”

  She let out an exhausted sigh and rolled her eyes.

  “We went to this little park, I don’t know where, we talked, and then sat there for hours not talking. I fell asleep on the blanket, and when I woke up I was home,” I spat out the facts as fast as I could, trailing off and purposely excluding the events that unfolded after I woke up in his car.

  “Blanket,” she said suspiciously, already detecting the holes in my story. I swear the girl really could be a top private eye. “Where, when, and how does a blanket come into play?”

  “He set up this little picnic for us,” she was asking too many questions already, soon she would get it out of me. I leaned back on the loveseat and hoped my defenses were stronger now.

  “Oh, so there was a picnic?” She raised her eyebrows expecting the news to get even juicier.

  “Yeah, one of those fruit and veggie platters and some juice, nothing special,” I was trying to dismiss the subject, but my gut told me that she was not about to let it go.

  “Oh, so you just had a picnic, sat and talked…” she searched for a weak point to dig her nails in deeper. “And what did we learn about Lacal?” Eyes lit up, she leaned forward on the couch, anxious to finally know more about the only person to ever elude her.

  “Not much, I did most of the talking,” disappointment spread across her face, giving me some hope that this would be enough to kill the topic.

  “Great, the one time you should be reserved, you can’t stop talking? Now I have to pull teeth to get scraps of information,” She let out another exasperated sigh and got off the couch. “So, you got anything to eat?”

  I was relieved to be off the subject even though there was no chance it would last long. Eventually Jazz would come up with more questions for me to answer. I followed her into the kitchen feeling relieved that she hadn’t decided to leave. That would have left me alone with my thoughts again, and I knew all too well how those could take a path of their own, leading me in any number of directions. Most of which, I had no intentions of going. Not while Jazz, private eye, was on the scene.

  Leaning on the counter, I watched as Jazz raided the kitchen finding all the ingredients she needed. She made a sandwich that looked too big for her to consume. However, I had no doubt that she could. She cut up some melon, and grabbed a bottle of orange juice from the fridge; all before snagging a bag of chips out of the pantry. I was sure they had to be stale, but for Jazz that would mean nothing but a change in flavor.

  Her appetite hadn’t changed. If it wasn’t for the two hours she worked out every morning, she wouldn’t be able to fit through the door. It was a love-hate relationship that she had with food. She loved to eat it, but she hated the aftermath, or should I say what she had to do to prevent the aftermath.

  She sat at the table and began to dig in. I followed her lead, grabbed a few strawberries, and sat across the table from her. It didn’t escape me how easy sitting there had become. Yes, the fact that I noticed at all most likely meant that I still had a few lingering qualms, but they weren’t enough to make me want to move away. I summed it up to being around Jazz, and the comfort of old times she brought with her.

  15

  “Not hungry?” She asked, eyeing the handful of fruit I had as she smashed her sandwich to a height that would fit into her mouth.

  “Not really.”

  “You got a lot on your mind?” That hungry look was in her eyes, the kind that could only be satisfied with gossip, not food.

  “I don’t know,” nothing except the lack of distraction Jazz had actually been able to provide me with.

  “Is it Lac-aaaal?” She started to resume the inquisition. She stretched out the sound of his name, teasing me.

  “I guess,” downplaying the situation was my only disguise and it was a weak one.

  “What about him?” She crunched into a stale chip and smiled at me.

  “He is just so…intense,” I popped a piece of the fruit in my mouth and attempted once again to organize my thoughts.

  “What do you mean by that?” She cocked her head to the side.

  “I'm not sure. It’s something about him that draws me in and I start to feel like I am losing myself” Already, I was giving her way to much information, but talking about it was actually making it easier to sort out.

  “Sounds hot,” she slurped her juice and stared at me, eager for more dirt.

  “In a way it is, but it’s also kind of scary. I don’t exactly enjoy not being able to control myself.” I had lost interest in eating the fruit and played with it in my hands.

  “Especially, if it’s one sided,” her claws dug further forcing me to give in. She knew that would make me want to defend myself. What girl wants to look as if she is pining after someone who n return, isn’t interested?

  “I don’t think it is,” I tossed it out there and waited for her response. My stomach began to knot up.

  “For real?” This was all she managed to choke out. I thought she would tell me it was impossible and confirm my fears that I had managed to imagine an attraction that was not there.

  “Yeah, but I could be wrong. You know I haven’t had to do much analyzing of the opposite sex for a while, but I am pretty sure he was just as into me as I was him.” Remembering his face as he fought to hold back while I was in his lap, it had to be true, especially considering the condition of my torn jeans! Damn, I would never find another pair that fit like that.

  “Girl one day out of your coma and you already got Mr. Untouchable, head over heels for you? You do realize that a lot of girls are going to want to kill you now, right? I mean damn, they will be out for blood!” She laughed and was now leaning across the table, eyes bucked, and waiting for more.

  Looking across the table at my eager friend, I wanted to tell Jazz everything. I had been out of the ‘real world’ for a long time and it couldn’t hurt to get some outside perspective on this situation. Especially, from someone like Jazz who held the title of expert in all things social.

  “Something else happened,” I dropped the teaser, knowing she would bite.

  “Really? What?” Yeah, she was hooked.

  “Well, I kind of attacked him,” my body froze, bracing for impact.

  “Attacked?” She dropped the piece of fruit she was about to pop int
o her already stuffed mouth, and scooted to the edge of her seat. Her hands slammed on the table frightening me. I shook it off and continued.

  “One second I’m getting ready to hop out of his car, and the next, I'm like straddled across his lap; kissing him, and ripping his shirt off,” I put my hands over my face hoping my cheeks hadn’t turned as red as they felt.

  “Ripping his shirt off?! Oh my God girl,” She took a swig of juice to help wash down the food in her mouth, so she wouldn’t choke when she rolled her neck at me. “You sat here trying to bore me to death with blankets and picnics when you have juice like this?”

  “It’s just that I'm not exactly sure how he reacted. I kind of ran out of the car and into the house.”

  “So, you attacked him and then fled the scene of the crime?” She let out a snicker that thankfully helped ease the tension.

  “Yeah, something like that,” I sighed and leaned back in my seat dropping my head back to stare at the ceiling.

  “Well, did he…attack back?” My moment of hesitation told her there was something more. “What?”

  The abrupt pressure on my chest caused me to gasp. What the hell was that? Eagerness, that’s what it was, the wave of anticipation, it came from her and physically smashed into me. I felt like my chest would cave in from the weight of her gaze alone. This was new; Lacal was the only one I had ever experienced that sensation with. The emotions, they were intense, and yet, they were not my own. The tangible force pressed against me harder. It was much stronger with Lacal, but it was the same feeling. I stared at her and for a brief moment, I saw the colors of sunset outlining her figure, made of hints of bright red and orange. It was there then I blinked, and it was gone. Perhaps I was more tired than I thought.

  “My clothes didn’t exactly survive the encounter either,” if I hadn’t continued, she would have jumped me.

  “I knew something was up when I saw your change in wardrobe!” She shrieked with pleasure while simultaneously eyeing the wrinkled shirt I had thrown on with contempt.

  The worst should have never been expected from Jazz. She was still the same girl I’d always known; hungry for gossip, and easily excitable. My own self-conscious had me bracing to be judged and ridiculed, but she did neither. Truthfully, I would be the same way if the tables were turned. Looking from the outside in, what happened in the car would appear more exhilarating than confusing.

  “I didn’t even realize it until I was upstairs,” I thought of my appearance, clothes torn, hair wild and heat rushing all over my body as the details of what happened in the car replayed inside my head.

  “Okay, so I have to agree, it’s definitely not one sided. Now, tell me, what is the problem here?” She thought I should be pursuing this. I had my reasons for not doing so. Reasons I did not know how to explain. Like clouds of gray that left their cool touch on my skin!

  “The problem is that, as you pointed out, I have barely been out of my ‘coma’ for a day, and all of this is overwhelming right now. I mean, for all I know, tomorrow I could be right back where I was before. Then what happens?” I got up from the table and tossed the remainder of the fruit into the trash, welcome back anxiety! The best bet was to get my body moving or panic would set in.

  “You’re worrying way too much, Lex. I think you should be enjoying this, enjoying him. Nothing says you have to be with him forever, and like you said, tomorrow you could be right back where you were before. Do you want to be sitting up regretting the fact that you didn’t let yourself live while you had the chance?”

  I looked at my friend and felt the truth in her words, echoing Lacal’s sentiment. I should enjoy this marvel for all that he was. I’d become afraid to live. For so long, my life was too fragile to consider taking any type of risk. My concern was more for schedules and appointments than being alive. Over time, the world had fallen out of my reach. Here was my chance to jump back in and potentially have some real fun and I was turning my back on it.

  Jazz finished swallowing down her meal, and we returned to the comfort of the living room. There we sat for hours talking nonstop first going over all the details of what happened with Lacal. Jazz took little time before dissecting all of his actions, my actions, movements and statements so that she could start spouting off her analysis of what each little thing meant under her social microscope.

  By the end of it all, I felt like I was the top suspect in a murder investigation and had just finished being interrogated by the F.B.I. Her conclusion was that the attraction and chemistry was mutual, no question about it. She also felt my running from the car wouldn’t be a big deal if he liked me as much as she thought he did. I would be lying if I said I’d hoped she was wrong.

  From there, she began to go down the list of all the girls who were sure to absolutely hate my guts once word got out, which with Jazz wouldn’t be very long. I’m sure she sent a text out to the masses when I went to get us the leftover tea from the fridge. Apparently, there was a long queue of girls who had attempted to interact with Lacal on a more than friendship basis. If he did respond, it was only to politely turn down the offer of their company. Learning this was a major stroke to the ego. After listening to her catalog, the names of the girls, (some of whom could be considered the top of the womanly food chain, the hardest to get) not being able to grab his attention, my confidence was shooting sky high.

  Unfortunately, that feeling didn’t last long before it twisted inside me and transformed itself. All of Jazz’s encouragement began to burn, and quickly turned to ash by my own insecurity. I couldn’t compete with those girls and yet, he had turned them all down. How long would it take for him to realize that?

  What was it that he could have possibly seen in me that was so special? What did he expect from me? Would I be able to keep him interested? I wasn’t even sure what it was I had done to spark his interest to begin with! With that, the remainder of my newfound confidence fizzled away.

  Jazz left a little after four in the morning. We finished the night off scanning through channels, and making fun of random reality shows. After locking up the house, I hauled myself up the stairs to my bed. As I climbed underneath my covers, I could only think that this fatigue settling over me meant that I was close to waking up from the dream that I still refused to accept as reality. I closed my eyes and waited.

  16

  Staring up from my pillow, the intricate web of cracks in my ceiling that usually welcomed me awake was missing. Instead, there was a gray sky filled with storm clouds that looked as if they were moments from opening up and drowning me. Low rumbles of thunder shook the bed violently. I placed my back against the headboard reaching out to hold the edge to avoid being tossed off. I found my hold just seconds before my chest was crushed by the strongest blast of wind I had ever felt. It pushed all the air out of my lungs, causing my body to jerk. Tears ran down my face as I wished for the pain to be over and suddenly it was.

  My body collapsed to the bed and I attempted to breathe. Oxygen burned as it spilled into my lungs. I lay there gasping for air and trying to calm the trembling of my body. Finally, I managed to still my nerves and pulled myself up from the mattress to scan the space around me. Afraid to move, my heart sunk into my stomach when I found nothing I could use to save me. I was trapped in emptiness, a void with no end in sight. Beneath the bed, there didn’t look to be anything solid for me to step out onto.

  Another current of air came, but it streamed from underneath me. This time lifting the bed and tilting it to one side. I scrambled to hold on and reached for the opposite side. Now I was flying into the air and barely grasped the edge of the bed frame to avoid falling into the abyss.

  The bed slammed down and made a sound like thunder, it caused my body to flail into the air, but my hands still held on tightly to the bed. My stomach slammed on the edge of the bed frame and almost caused me to lose my grip. I lay there not wanting to move again. Trembling all over, I needed to figure a way out, but I couldn’t hear my thoughts over the sound of my pulse
beating in my ear.

  Above the rhythm of my heart, I could just barely make out what sounded like screaming. My pulse raced, and the blood continued roaring in my ears, mixing with the shrill sound that began to grow in volume. It was seconds before I realized that the scream was coming from my own lips. My head pivoted faster, scanning the space around me, hoping for something, anything that could appear as a savior for me.

  Panic gripped me, and my muscles seized. It wasn't because of the wind that had picked up. It blew even harder than the infamous Hawk that often ravished the streets of Chicago, I could stand those winds, I was used to that, this wind was different. It scared the hell out of me because some part of me, that same evasive, unknown part that called out for Lacal and clawed at me whenever I was near my grandmother, knew that there was something to fear.

  Only now, instead of trying to take over and force my actions against my will, it was warning me that something was coming for me and yelling at me to find a way out. It gave me the energy I needed to bring life back to my body. As I pulled myself up again, I felt something move behind me. I turned, inhaled quickly, and held my breath afraid to make a sound.

  This wasn’t just emptiness surrounding me, just a layer of darkness. Looking closer, I could see that it was moving. It was tangible, and if I reached out I could touch it, I felt the chill that came from it, this dark thing. If it got the chance, it would destroy me.

  It moved with a contemptuous display of life, the wind blew again only this time it registered feeling more like a breath; the powerful cold, and stale breath of this thing. It started to engulf the bed, attempting to swallow it whole and take me with it. It crept towards me devouring the mattress, I watched as it disappeared into nothingness. I smashed my back against what was left of the headboard and tried to pull myself as far away from it as I could get. Hopelessness wrapped around me like a paralyzing blanket; there was nothing left to do and nowhere to go.