The Leira Chronicles- The Complete Austin Series

by Martha Carr

  “How do I do that?” asked Leira.

  “You have to feel it.” he replied without a thought.

  She made a face. “Then we’re fucked,” she told him, “and I’ll have to use the human method of gallons of coffee.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Correk thought about his response to her answer before trying another time. “Leira, you have Royal Elven blood flowing through your veins. It elevates your magic to an entirely new level. You’re more than capable of this. Come on, you’re telling me that you’re backing away from a challenge?”

  Leira gripped the steering wheel, her knuckles whitening. “Point taken.” God, she wanted the coffee. “Give me the first lesson.”

  Correk turned in his seat to face her and tapped the center of his chest with his fingers. “You have to feel it in here. Draw on the feeling as if it is a living, breathing, being within you, because it is. Name something that you already believe without question.”

  Leira’s eyebrows drew together, running through the possibilities. “I believe in my own ability to survive all this shit.”

  He made a twisting maybe sort of motion with his hand. “Reach for something more. Something positive.”

  “I believe… I believe that the people who hang out at Estelle’s care about me.”

  It was the first time she had ever acknowledged it to herself. “They’ve done a decent job of being a family to me. A smoking, drinking, bowling family. I know if I needed them, any one of them would drop everything to come and help.”

  Leira felt the growing warmth in the center of her chest. A surge of energy that felt solid, felt real.

  He nodded. “Draw on that belief,” said Correk. “It is the belief in others, the connections you have that matter most that will be the most powerful. Now, pull that belief into the idea that you need to be alert, focused and able to sustain this energy for the next few days. It won’t stop you from sleeping when you choose to, but the choice will become yours. It is a power of the Light Elves and for a Royal Elf is immutable.”

  Leira felt the energy wash over her like she was taking a drug. She was able to think with speed and clarity.

  “Oricerans have apparently been coming over to Earth for quite some time, if my magical lineage is to be believed.” She flashed her lights to catch the attention of the slow Impala in front of her. Thankfully, they slid aside as she barrelled past them. “No wonder there’s a need for the Silver Griffins.”

  “It’s a little more complicated than that. Our two worlds have a unique connection that has gone on for many millennia. Every twenty-five thousand eight hundred years portals, like the ones you have passed through open and stay open. But those are larger and very public. Anyone can walk right through them at any time.”

  “Are we getting close to one of those years?” she asked. They came over a rise and from the top she could quickly see what pattern she would need to take through the miles of cars ahead of her in order to make the fastest time. She wove in and out of traffic easily, missing bumpers by mere inches and maneuvering her way out of a snarl of slow-moving traffic.

  “We are only decades from when the process starts. A little under sixty-five hundred years till it hits its peak and crests.”

  “That means the last one was about nineteen-thousand three hundred years ago,” said Leira, doing the math in her head. “I think.”

  Why was it always a problem to subtract fives, threes and eights in her mind?

  “Frankly, residents of Oriceran have lived on Earth forever. Every time the portals have started to close some humans chose Oriceran for the magic, and some magical species chose Earth for their own reasons. Technology has its own allure too. Some were also fugitives from Oriceran law, and some formed relationships with a human and were unwilling to leave.”

  “What you’re telling me is that there are magical people all around the world,” Leira said.

  “Yes, entire magical communities and many of them live in plain sight. There are even many different types, too many to name.”

  “Even Light Elves?”

  “A full-blooded light Elf is pretty hard to hide,” said Correk, tapping his ear. “The points are a dead giveaway. Early American settlers kept referring to us as demons and that was a problem. Magic never did go over very well with the Puritans.”

  “Were those distant relatives who got burned at the stake in old Salem?” asked Leira.

  “No, even a human being with a small percentage of Elven blood would have easily been able to confuse and persuade the simpletons of old Salem. Those were most likely innocent human beings. But if you know where to look it gets easier and easier to spot your distant cousins. You knew a half Elf as Elvis Presley. His mother had a sense of humor and gave him a first name as a clue.”

  “I can see that,” said Leira. “He has a certain luck. That explains the singing.”

  “And the dancing. Oh yes,” said Correk, “we know how to dance but it’s something normally only shared with your partner. It’s considered intimate.”

  “Those rockin’ hips,” said Leira, smiling, despite how she felt. It was one of her best defense mechanisms. She knew how to compartmentalize her feelings and put them aside altogether if there was a job to be done. It helped make her a good homicide detective. But she could sense things were changing and being able to intertwine her emotions in with her thoughts was becoming essential. The magic within her was waking up.

  They drove all night, making only occasional stops to put more gas in the car or use the bathroom. Correk had his first soda, choosing a Dr. Pepper. He took a sip, screwed up his face, commented on the bubbles, swallowed and did it all over again till the bottle was drained.

  “It’s like watching National Geographic,” Leira said.

  It was just around breakfast time the next day when they arrived in Chicago. They pulled in the parking lot of one of the no-tell motels along part of Lincoln Avenue. It was along route forty-one and dated back to when the road was the main state thoroughfare. It was replaced long ago by bigger highways and the motels were mostly ignored by everybody except those who wanted to use it by the hour or were trying to hide.

  When Leira rented the room the clerk behind the counter looked lazily up and glanced at Correk still waiting in the car. “Double occupancy, I take it,” he said. “You want it for the night?”

  “We’ll need the room through the weekend,” she said, giving him a cold hard look. She was tempted to flash her badge but she was operating outside of the rules. Getting caught on a case that wasn’t assigned to her outside of her jurisdiction was breaking the law. She resisted the urge and instead remembered what Correk had said to her.

  She stared at the clerk coolly, summoning the feeling of belief within her that all was well and they would succeed. A calm settled over her that she was sure the clerk could see, evidenced by the change in his personality. He suddenly became more amiable.

  “Room two oh two on the second floor. It’s one of our better rooms. The maid’s been in that one today and the comforter hasn’t been used, well, that much,” he said, holding up his thumb and forefinger an inch apart. “Ice machine will be halfway down outside this door and there’s plenty of fast food restaurants everywhere you look. Welcome to Chicago and Lincoln Square.”

  She got back to the car and found Correk chewing a piece of beef jerky. He was beginning to look a little nauseous.

  She opened her door and leaned in. “I have the room key but I don’t feel good about leaving our stuff there. We should really get some real food in you before this gets ugly,” she said.

  “This is your world, what do you suggest? And no more Cheetos,” he said, putting a hand on his stomach gingerly.

  “Yeah, that’s phase two of eating too many Cheetos, and throwing in corn nuts and beef jerky on top of it with a Dr. Pepper. You have to work up to that. This is a marathon, Correk, not a sprint. Let’s see, we’re in Chicago. We need to go find Lou Malnati’s deep dish pizza. It’ll
either fill you up or kill you off, but either way you’ll be out of your faux food misery.”

  “What’s a pizza?” he asked.

  “How is it possible in all of your eavesdropping you didn’t pick up on so many barely-edible delights? Lou Malnati’s is a thick crust followed by a ton of melted, gooey cheese, with homemade tomato sauce on top. More toppings are optional.”

  “Anything you’d call a vegetable?”

  “You can get a mushroom or a green pepper thrown on there if you need to,” said Leira. “Try a slice and then we’ll head out to locate Bill Somers.”

  Leira found the restaurant easily as if she was following an old memory in her head.

  “How did you know where to go without a map?” asked Correk.

  “Not sure, really. My grandmother used to take me on road trips a lot when I was younger. We’d go to Santa Monica, upstate New York, Chicago. She always said we needed to recharge. What? I saw that,” she said, as they walked into the restaurant.

  “I’ll explain later,” he said.

  “Can we have a table near the front window?” Leira asked.

  “Right this way,” said the waitress. She showed them to a booth and set down two tall plastic menus in front of them.

  Correk took one look at the menu and winced, looking up at the waitress and asking, “Do you have anything smaller, you know, thinner?” he asked, pointing at the picture of the three-inch deep pizza.

  The waitress and Leira gaped at him.

  “We don’t really do thin crust here, honey,” the waitress said. “You’re in the wrong city. Try New York. How about a nice green salad for you? You look like you might need it.”

  “We’ll get a small deep dish and maybe a salad on the side,” said Leira.

  “And a Dr. Pepper,” said Correk, with a little too much enthusiasm.

  The waitress tapped her forehead behind Correk’s back with her eyebrows raised, asking Leira a question. Leira ignored her.

  She returned with a paper placemat and a small box of crayons and set them off to the side. “I’ll just leave those here, in case there’s an artist in the family,” she said.

  Leira laughed, and then glanced out the window toward the car to see if the troll was awake. No movement.

  “Tell me what that look was about when I mentioned the road trips,” said Leira.

  “Your grandmother knew that there was Elven blood in your family. It’s common for the magical communities here on Earth to live near what are known as kemana or green sectors. They are locations on Earth that have large amounts of quartz imbued with magical energy. It was done before the portals closed the last time. They’re used as a kind of charging station so that Oricerans can maintain at least a minimum of magical ability. They’ve also become a way for different species to find each other. Like a community bulletin board.”

  The waitress came back with their pizza and a stand to set it on and Correk got quiet.

  “Here, let me help you, honey,” said the waitress. She was determined to help him get his slice. She put it on a plate for him and stepped back. “Try a knife and fork. It’ll be okay,” she said.

  Correk looked at Leira for some help to get rid of her but Leira was enjoying it too much to say anything. The waitress wouldn’t leave until he tried a bite and assured her that he liked it.

  “Now that’s what I call service,” said Leira, after the waitress finally bustled away to tend to someone else.

  “She’s treating me like I’m a child.”

  Leira nodded. “I think you hit the nail on the head.”

  “You know, this really is delicious but I have a feeling I’m only making matters worse.”

  “Now you’re catching on to the American diet,” said Leira, smiling as she bit into her pizza. Memories of sitting here with her grandmother came flooding back to her. Just enjoy it Leira, she thought. More answers will come soon enough.

  Correk insisted on taking a slice to go, earning him a hug from the waitress. Leira noticed that she tucked the placemat and crayons into the bag. He seemed startled by the hug but was gracious enough to just let her do it.

  “Humans are very odd,” Correk observed as they left the restaurant and walked to the car.

  “Agreed.”

  They tracked Bill Somers all over Chicago for the next two days. At the university, they found Dean Muston who said, “Professor Somers has taken a short break from work.” Both Correk and Leira noticed how relieved the Dean looked when he told them. “I’m sorry, but we’re getting ready for our Centennial celebration of the school. I really don’t have time to help you reunite with Bill Somers.”

  At his small, cramped apartment they found evidence of Oriceran, a clump of tall grasses that had fallen limp. Correk wrapped them gently in a small square of cloth and tucked them in his pocket.

  “No evidence should be left behind,” he said.

  But there was no sign of Bill Somers.

  “Do you think he knows someone is looking for him?” Correk asked.

  “It would appear that way,” said Leira, studying the papers on his desk. “Look at this,” she said. “It’s a receipt for a handmade tuxedo. That’s a lot of money for someone who lives like this. From the little I know of the man, style and fashion doesn’t seem to be high on his list of priorities. He’s getting dressed for a special occasion.”

  She looked down at a piece of paper on the wobbly folding table that served as his dining room table. It was a memo from Somers’ department about what to expect at the celebration.

  “This Centennial is on the same day that you said the energy will transfer from the necklace to whoever has it,” she said, tapping the paper.

  “We’re going to the Centennial, aren’t we?”

  “Seems like our best chance to find Bill Somers and the necklace all in one place. The trick will be to find him before he tries whatever it is he’s going to try. Right now, he’s in the wind and I don’t have my usual tools to find where he might be hiding out. He might be smart enough to stay off the grid until tomorrow and the celebration. Looks like you’re going to need a monkey suit.”

  “Why would I want to dress like a monkey?”

  “It’s our cute way of saying a tux,” said Leira.

  “We have far more sentient beings on Oriceran than there are on Earth and yet we managed to find one unique word for everything.”

  “Come on, you can comfort yourself with more deep dish pizza. Eat too much of that though, and you’ll need a cummerbund to hide the middle.”

  “What are you going to wear?”

  “That’s a very good question. Something that will hide a gun,” said Leira, “and still let me blend in.”

  “I will need to return to Oriceran to recharge before the events tomorrow,” said Correk.

  “Won’t one of the kemana suffice for now? There’s a lot going on here and I could probably use your help.”

  “That’s why I have to go back. I can recharge faster to full capacity in Oriceran and I can make sure the Order accepted what happened in the bowling alley.”

  He took a deep breath and his eyes started to glow. Symbols appeared on his arms and Leira noticed for the first time that they were different from the last time. Correk held out his hand and formed a ball of light, stretching the light in every direction, opening up a portal. Leira could feel the pull in the middle of her being, as well.

  “I can feel it,” she said, surprised.

  “Inhabitants of Oriceran are always aware of when a portal is opening if they’re anywhere nearby. It’s just another sign of your Elven blood awakening inside of you.” He put one foot through the portal, turning back to give her a stern look. “Don’t leave this room.”

  “I know, time moves differently between the two planets. Days can go by on your side and will only be a minute over here. How far can you stretch that out before time moves on here?”

  “Only a week and then hours will start to pass and you will miss time. I will not be gone tha
t long,” he said, stepping all the way through the portal. Leira could see deep woods on the other side.

  “You can direct where you come out to some degree can’t you?”

  The question was lost as the portal closed and gold sparks showered, sputtering in the close air of the musty apartment.

  Leira looked around at the dingy room and wondered if anything was safe to sit on. She noticed a metal folding chair and decided that was the best choice. But she’d barely sat down when she heard a fizzing and cracking from the small bathroom.

  She heard a crash and the sound of a shower curtain being torn down as she rushed into the room. Correk was crawling out of the bathtub, looking sheepish.

  “Are you hurt? I thought you had a better handle on this portal thing.”

  “A portal was opened here recently,” he said, an edge to his voice. “Very recently. That affects the opening of the next portal and draws the energy toward it. It’s certain. Bill Somers has been back to Oriceran.”

  “Are you fully recharged?”

  “You’re not going to ask about the Order?” asked Correk.

  “If it’s good news I don’t need to know and if it’s bad news I don’t want to know. Come on, we have things to do. You can tell me what you’ve learned while we get a jump on Bill Somers. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find him and the necklace before the big party.”

  “There’s only a day left to pull that off.”

  “Stranger things are happening every day,” she said.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The prophets on the council met in the hidden room at the back of the vast Oriceran post office. The mood was somber and the Kilomea’s representative was banging his oversized thorny fist on the table, leaving small holes in the hardwood. “Things have gotten too far out of hand,” he said. He was wearing a deep red cloak over his leather and armor. No one had bothered to put on the familiar blue robe of the prophets.