The Leira Chronicles- The Complete Austin Series

by Martha Carr

  "What do you mean not the first time?" Correk's voice grew louder.

  "Little lower or my mother will be in here and I'd like to spare her parts of this story if I can."

  "What parts, exactly?"

  "All the parts that involve me. Look, I didn't think it was really anything the first time. We saw my grandmother when I connected my energy to my mother."

  "I know all this."

  "Interrupt me and it takes twice as long. You were doing so well at using your patience skills."

  Correk did his best not to say anything back to her.

  "Much better," said Leira, glaring at him. "As I was saying, my grandmother managed to contact us from that netherworld but the moment I knew it was her, someone kind of spectrally thing shoved her out of the way."

  "That girl," Correk whispered.

  "Yes, but I just let that part go. There seemed to be bigger things on the table. Mom's return, my new job, my grandmother caught in fucking no-wheresville. But the dead body was that girl. And then, there she was in ghost form and the fucking agent with me could see her too. I didn't think that was possible."

  "Not normally." Concern grew on Correk's face.

  "So I improvised."

  "You what? With the world in between?"

  "You yell one more time and I stop talking till later. Got it?" She jabbed the air with her finger. Suddenly, she could feel how tired she was from keeping herself in one piece and still on this side of the veil. "What the hell did you think I was going to do on this job? Something weird is going to be coming up constantly and I'm going to have to think on my feet. So I thought on my feet! I sent my energy out ahead of me to investigate, feel her energy. Find out what asshole killed her."

  "That's impossible." Correk slammed his hands down on the island between them. It only made Leira more determined.

  "I found that gun, and there was the moron who kidnapped the little girl. Of course it's possible."

  "You don't understand. It's not possible. You crossed over the barrier between here and there. This space and the world in between." He pointed to one space and then another. "You did it with magic. That's impossible."

  "Well, I have a Fed who looked several years older in a matter of minutes who will back me up. He could see the whole thing. He saw the world in between, the dead girl and the black mist..."

  Correk rubbed his face with the palms of his hands. "What happened when your energy went into the world in between? You know that's an extension of you. It can't be severed. It's as good as stepping into the world yourself." He was jabbing the air with his hand, the strain showing on his face.

  "Totally get that. Especially when the black airy thing tried to pull the rest of me inside."

  Correk gripped the sides of the island, the symbols lighting up his arms, and crawling up to his neck and face at record speed.

  "If this was a cartoon I have a feeling steam would be coming out of your ears," said Leira, narrowing her eyes. "First, can we acknowledge that I'm standing right here. I didn't go over the edge, and there was a fucking edge. Boy, that's a weird thing you never get used to. Worse than that invisible castle you call home. The floor actually does end. Are you counting? That's a thing in Oriceran too? Take deeper breaths or you'll pass out."

  "Stop babbling."

  "Now that's rude. You want me to tell you what happened you're gonna have to put up with the color commentary. More worried I am, the more jokes I make and today was a regular stand-up routine. Okay, I'll get to the rest of the details."

  "Do you let people you arrest talk to you this way?"

  "Actually, yes. More they run on at the mouth the more likely they are to tell me exactly what I want to know. You could stand to learn a few things about interrogation."

  Correk shut his eyes for a few seconds, tapping the top of the island.

  "The counter top is from Lavender Rock, did you realize? I didn't at first. I wonder if it has any energy stored in it." She waited till Correk opened his eyes. He looked like he was ready to send a fireball in her direction. Leira gave him a crooked smile.

  "You take fucking forever to realize when someone is messing with you." She said it very slowly, leaning over the counter at him.

  "So, none of this is true? That's impossible. I saw what happened to the troll."

  "No, it's true but I'm perfectly capable of telling you in a few sentences. Look, I can take care of myself, for the most part. This thing, whatever we're doing, I don't know, Starsky and Hutch meet the Jetsons isn't going to work if you get this worked up every time. Too much stress for both of us."

  "You almost got pulled into a world where you most likely could never leave," he hissed.

  "But didn't," she said with a hard nod. "Besides, Nana showed up like the cavalry and saved the day. Good thing too because I could not get the agent to let go of the back of my pants no matter how much I yelled. See, that vein is popping out on your forehead again. Everybody’s safe." She held her arms out to her sides. "Really, it was more like her energy showed up and combined with mine. It was just enough to do the trick. Whatever that black mist was, it was super powerful and nasty. Okay, I concede. Don't want to do that again. Ever." She waved her arms in front of her.

  Correk let out a breath slowly. The symbols started to recede.

  "Look, Hagan and I got into some pretty nasty scrapes while we were together. He even got shot not that long ago. But we were still effective because we saw each other as equals and knew we had to run into the fight, every time. Yes, I'm not as well trained on this new job as I'd like to be but there doesn't seem to be a crib sheet or an online course."

  "I'm not going to be able to just watch you put yourself in harm’s way without any kind of help."

  "Then teach me what you do know, as much as you can."

  "That's the part that I don't like. Your abilities... your power is already surpassing what I've ever heard of, much less seen. And here on Earth, no less. I'm not sure I can teach you enough to keep you safe." My mission.

  "Okay, this brings me to the last part of the day's events. Not a dark story. At least I don't think so and my detective skills are on point. Magic or no magic. It was just a strange little moment. I pulled over to just take a break after almost sliding into the world in between and a very old Light Elf down the block opened up one of those tunnels. Said he could feel my pain. Can you do that?"

  "Not on Earth. Takes skill and energy."

  "Well, he could here on Earth. He was talking to me like we were old friends. Started talking about dark things being stirred up. Said he had an idea but he wasn't going to say more till he was sure. He knew my name. He knew about you, too."

  "Did he say his name?"

  "Turner Underwood. Called himself the Fixer for the magical community."

  Correk sagged in the center and leaned back hard against the sink with a thud.

  "Are you okay? You know who that is?"

  "It can't be." Correk's heart pounded in his chest.

  "Okay, now you're doing it to me. I have to admit, it is annoying. What can't be?"

  "That's the name of an old family friend who fought alongside my father."

  "He was there when your father died?" It was Eireka standing in the doorway. "Where do we find him?" Eireka came and stood next to her daughter.

  "We don't. He said he'd find us when the time is right."

  Eireka wrapped an arm around Leira's shoulder, gently hugging her. "Tell me about how you almost died today."

  Leira started and glared at Correk but she could tell by his surprise that he didn't tell Eireka.

  "Like I don't know what it means when a troll goes blue. I knew but apparently unlike you," she said, pointing at Correk, "I have more faith in my daughter to pull off the impossible. So, tell me. What happened today?"

  "Well, first, Nana saved my ass..."

  Chapter Six

  The followers gathered on top of Camelback Mountain overlooking Phoenix, Arizona in the valley below them. The
air was cold and crisp this time of year, especially this early in the morning. They were standing on the summit of the smallest mountain in the range. It was another kemana sitting on top of a large crystal burrowed deep into the Earth, topped by a mountain. Many in the magical community had even discovered over the past hundred years that it was easier to open a portal to Oriceran from on top of the smallest mountain. A rarity.

  This particular spot had also acquired the nickname of the Dark Kemana. It was a favorite with those who wanted to revive the darker aspects of magic. The kemana drew dark magical practitioners from all over to the top of the rock. One long party. Most shot off harmless fireballs that petered out before they reached Phoenix down below.

  Back when the gates were fully open the last time, a group of rogue witches and wizards practiced alchemy spells but only got as far as flipping around some of the geological layers of the smaller mountain. What the locals called the head of the camel. Large chunks of hard granite that were over a billion years old sat right on top of younger, softer sandstone that was only thirty million years old. That was supposed to be scientifically impossible. It was really just bored teenage witches and wizards.

  The twenty hand-picked for the early morning incantation were their descendants. They were another sect of the new followers of Rhazdon's teachings and were assembled to help open a portal. The necklace needed to come back to Earth. Too many magical beings were hunting it. Besides, the Gnomes were particularly good at sniffing out powerful artifacts. The high priest who was starting up the movement again wanted the necklace moved and now.

  The Dark Kemana was the perfect place to hand it over. It was more difficult for the Order of the Silver Griffins to patrol the area without someone ratting them out, and quickly.

  A young short witch stood on the summit, excited to be leading the morning ritual. Finally, someone was smart enough to put me in charge. She looked out over the vista, the sky still dark and thought about all the stories of aliens moving the rocks. They were so close to the truth. She smiled, narrowing her eyes, tapping the palm of her hand with her wand made from a local Juniper tree, passed down to her from her grandmother. Among witches that was better than pearls and carried the same rule. In polite magical society, no one ever asked to handle someone else's wand.

  The piece of granite beneath her feet was an artifact, fixed in place, absorbing all of the magic from generations of witches and wizards who had performed spells, small and large on the smaller mountain over the millennia, only adding to the kemana. The magic seeped too slowly back out of Earth to be of much use. But there were those in Phoenix hundreds of years ago who drafted a spell to draw it out faster. It worked to a point but even that limited success was powerful. The leeching spell, as it became known, was a closely guarded secret.

  Through the ages, each family line of the original witches and wizards passed on the family legacy of spells. The Gnomes secreted away any artifacts and relics into the library vault on Oriceran and the Silver Griffins took the rest into their vault in Chicago.

  The young witch smiled triumphantly. There were still a few pieces they didn't grab, and one large one in Phoenix they couldn't remove. She stomped her foot on the ground, feeling a spark of energy shoot up her leg. It's a good morning for a ritual. She walked around the perimeter, looking for any intruders that could interrupt their spell. The wind whipped around her bare legs, rustling her skirt. It was too cold for the outfit she was wearing. It couldn't be helped. She would have to go straight to work. Work life balance, she thought as she looked down the gravel path. All she saw in the darkness were trees and rocks.

  The Silver Griffins were particularly vigilant in the Phoenix area and there were always rumors of moles infiltrating the older families. It all created an air of suspicion and mistrust that for some just added to the allure.

  Other magical families who wanted nothing to do with the outlaw magic warned their offspring to stay away from the area, telling tales of mishaps with the powerful artifact or a spell gone wrong that left a young witch looking like a crone or a wizard sucked into the world in between. None of the stories were really true, but they served their purpose. The place became the bogeyman of small witches and wizards' dreams.

  Lately, something had changed. The followers of Rhazdon were infiltrating the area in larger numbers, working on recruiting the entire community to their way of thinking. Purity of magical thought over ordinary humans.

  "Stop your goofing around. There isn't much time left," said the young witch, flipping her blonde hair streaked with purple back over her shoulder.

  A tall male Wood Elf with long stringy blonde hair nudged his friend, winking as he rolled his hands in front of his chest, one hand passing over the other, creating a small blue fireball no bigger than a marble. He let it bounce in the center of his hand for just a moment before he flicked it at a male Light Elf standing on the other side of the group.

  The fireball bounced off the young man's cheek, exploding sparks in front of his face, singeing his left eyebrow. "Hey! What the fuck?" The air was scented with burning red hair. "Not cool, man! Not cool. You could have burned my uniform. I have to go to work after this!" He quickly brushed off the front of the blue shirt from a big box store, checking for any tiny embers he might have missed. "Bunch of assholes," he muttered, as they piled over to him, pushing and shoving, laughing as they gave him a friendly shove.

  "Come on, we were just having fun."

  "If I could find new friends I'd ditch you clowns," he said, already laughing, relieved his shirt was still intact. "You know they make us buy these shirts," he said, laughing.

  "Who invited them?" asked a curvy witch with bright red lips and dark black hair, leaning in to whisper to the small clot of witches all gathered together near the designated spot.

  "They're legacy going back thousands of years. We had no choice," said a young wizard, who looked bored and let out a long yawn.

  "Well, something got watered down over the generations," sniffed another witch, wearing green cotton scrubs, her hair pulled back into a tight brown ponytail.

  "Okay doorknobs, come on, the sun rises soon and we all have places to be." The short witch's voice was sharp and curt, fitting her normal role as a loan officer in a local bank. She clapped her hands together twice. "Keep it up and the next fireball will come from me and with a lot better aim!"

  The young men sheepishly got into the circle, muttering amongst themselves.

  "Bitches make angry witches," said the tall Wood Elf, getting snickers out of his friends. The short witch whipped out her wand and sliced the air with it, sending a spray of sparks that cut a dark line right in front of the young men, leaving the rubber tips on the front of their sneakers smoking. They stopped talking but took on a unified slouching and sullen stance to let her know they weren't happy, scowling at her from a distance.

  The witch looked at her watch. "Thirty seconds. Here we go. Join hands everyone. Hannah, you come stand by me."

  Hannah Beecham nervously slid over to the short witch, taking her hand. Rhazdon's followers had moved her out of Chicago as quickly as possible, moving her from house to house among loyal followers until she found herself in Phoenix, Arizona. Her head was still spinning from all of it.

  She took the hand of the girl on her other side, who looked like she was about the same age, a tattoo of a raven on her shoulder partially hidden by her long, straight jet-black hair. Be brave Hannah, you can do this. She had repeated the same thing to herself for what seemed like a million times since the day she was recruited while hanging out in Welles Park.

  The Chicago sect thought she was a weak link and might be interested in joining the new uprising. After all, didn't she have a distant cousin who was already in the cult? But others didn't trust her. They wanted a test and it had to be something that would leave no room for doubt. Leave no room for Hannah to change her mind later.

  Help them steal the necklace.

  Of course, by then, Hannah had al
ready told everything to the head of the Chicago Order of the Silver Griffins, Lacey Trader, an older witch who was too old to go on missions anymore but still ran a tight ship.

  She swore Hannah to secrecy, spying an opportunity that didn't come along very often. She held Hannah's hands in hers and looked her square in the eyes and asked, "Are you courageous enough to do this task knowing even your own family will think you've betrayed them?" Lacey didn't try to sell her on the idea or point out that in the end it was for the greater good. Hannah had to be sure all on her own.

  Hannah nodded her head, slowly at first, gulping in air, never taking her eyes off Lacey's face.

  "Good." Lacey gave her hands a good shake. "Because this will be one of the bravest things you ever have to do. I will help you as much as I can but we will not be able to tell anyone we know of a coming attack."

  "But...but..." Hannah stammered.

  "No, no! There can be no hint that you are not completely devoted to them. None. Your only advantages will be that you will know when the attack is coming making it possible for you to position yourself to steal the necklace. And no one in the Order will suspect your loyalty." Lacey brushed the hair off Hannah's forehead. "I admire you. Such bravery hasn't really been necessary for a long time. The Second World War, really. A lot of us went into battle during the big one, all over the world. But even then, we had each other. You are marching out there alone."

  "I have you." Hannah's voice came out with a quiver but her gaze stayed strong.

  "Yes, yes you do. I take it seriously how much trust you're placing in me. I will be the only one who holds your truth for you while you're gone. It's quite an honor!" She hugged the young witch, wrapping her arms around her and holding her tight for a moment. "Till we meet again. I'm proud of you Hannah Beecham. Remember those words when so many call you a traitor." It seemed like that was so long ago.

  Hannah stood on top of the small mountain, the twinkling lights of Phoenix below. People were starting to rise for their day. She shivered in the cold as the girl with the tattoo squeezed her hand. They all shut their eyes and drew on the energy from the rock, letting it come up through their feet, swirling inside of them until it moved around the circle, traveling faster and faster.