Fairy World M.D.
Boxed Set Two
Tamara Grantham
Contents
Silverwitch
Goblinwraith
Deathbringer
Underworld
Grayghost
About the Author
Afterword
Also by Tamara Grantham
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
Fairy World M.D. Boxed Set 2
Copyright ©2018 Tamara Grantham
All rights reserved.
Summary: From award-winning author Tamara Grantham comes a boxed set of the second three full-length Fairy World M.D. books. This set includes exclusive bonus content, and offers the reader a discount over purchasing each novel individually.
ISBN: 978-1-63422-347-8 (e-book)
Cover Design by: Marya Heidel
Typography by: Courtney Knight
Editing by: Cynthia Shepp
Silverwitch
“And the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true.”
-From “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.” Lyrics by E.Y. Harburg.
Chapter 1
I’m watching you.
I know you. I’ll take your magic and destroy the world.
Soon.
Everyone you know will die.
And you will die with them.
Theht’s voice was becoming harder to ignore.
“I can’t help you,” I said.
Zack Zimmerman’s mouth gaped open. “But you said you could help anyone—never failed to cure a client.”
“I said I could help anyone who’s been to Fairy World. You haven’t been.”
“But the test showed magic had touched me. How is that possible?”
“There are several possibilities. You could have come into contact with a creature from Faythander on Earth and some of its magical residue could have touched you, thus contaminating the test. It’s also possible that my own magic could have interfered.”
Zack exhaled, obviously annoyed. “Has that ever happened to anyone else?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know it happened to me?”
“Because there has to be a logical explanation.”
“Yes, there does. I’ve been there. I swear to you, it’s the only thing that explains my mental distress and my abnormal collection.”
“Mr. Zimmerman,” I said, “usually patients don’t collect the articles you described.”
He pulled at a chain around his neck. An egg-shaped pendant hung suspended from the bottom. The jewel was unusual, a black stone with veins of gold that shimmered in the sunlight. “I just bought this one off eBay, but I’ve got dozens more at home. I can’t stop collecting them. It doesn’t matter how expensive or how rare. Have you ever priced Fabergé eggs?”
“I can’t say that I have.”
He swallowed. “I got this one on sale for twenty-two grand.”
Sheesh.
“Yes, that’s quite a lot.”
“Can’t you see how this is affecting my life? My job at the news station is suffering. I can’t even give a good weather forecast anymore. Not to mention my wife and kids. I need help!”
My heart sank. I wish he knew how much I wanted to help him. But wanting to do something and being able to do something were two different things.
“I wish I could help you—I truly do, Mr. Zimmerman—but I don’t know how. My clients usually collect dragons and fairies, not eggs.”
“But what about the sci-fi movie stuff? I’ve got a huge collection of every Enterprise seen on a TV screen. Please, doesn’t that count?”
I placed my hands atop my mirror box. The test hadn’t replayed a single memory from his past, although he had reacted to elven magic. However, since Theht had intruded on my mind a week earlier, my own magic had slowly been growing weaker and more erratic, and could possibly have been interfering with the test. As heartbreaking as it was, I could do nothing for him.
“Do it again,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
“Do the test again.”
“I don’t think the results will be any different.”
“I don’t care. You have to try again. There has to be an explanation for what’s happening to me.”
Sighing, I opened my laptop. Five small figurines rested on the velvet lining. Dragon, elf, Wult, pixie, and goblin.
“Give me your hand,” I instructed.
He did, and I held it over the first figurine, the dragon. Magic flowed from the mirror and filled me with its power, though it didn’t react with Mr. Zimmerman’s presence. We moved to the elf, and just as last time, a faint flair of blue magic glowed around his hand.
“You see that light, too, right?” he asked.
“Yes. I see it.”
“Then I’ve been there. Doesn’t this prove it?”
“Not necessarily.” I lifted the statuette and held it out. “I need you to touch the figurine, just like last time, and then place your other hand on the mirror.”
He did as I instructed, and as he touched it, nothing happened. No magical flare, no images. Nothing. An empty mirror stared back at us.
“If you’d been to Faythander,” I said, “we would see some form of a memory being replayed, but there’s nothing there.”
He stared at the glass, his eyes filled with determination, as if he were willing the memories to appear. But the glass remained empty and cold, reflecting only the harshness of his reality. Finally, with a sigh of disgust, he moved his hand away from the mirror.
“What’s wrong with me?”
“I wish I knew.”
He gave me a shrewd glance. “Do you?”
“Yes. I would like to be able to help you.”
“You’re a liar. You said you could fix anyone, and you can’t.”
Ouch.
“That’s uncalled for.”
“Is it?” He stood abruptly, marched to the door, marched back, grabbed his briefcase, and stomped back to the door. “How much do I owe you?” he asked.
“No charge.”
He nodded once, grabbed the door handle, and left the apartment. Han Solo, my cat, jumped on my lap, tickling my nose with his bushy gray tail, so I patted his head.
“Well, that was a great way to start the day, don’t you think?”
Han mewled, nudging my hand. He’d been in heaven ever since we’d arrived back home in our apartment, but before that, the poor thing hadn’t been fond of the camper trailer I’d rented for the Ren Fest. After I’d returned from Faythander, it had taken a bit of coaxing to get him to come out of hiding.
Purring, he made himself comfortable on my lap. I had tons of things to take care of and debated on moving him away, but I’d always been a pushover, so I let him curl up.
My mind was a million miles away, back in Faythander, as I recalled the last minutes I’d spent with Kull, my newly reunited… boyfriend? Could I call him that now? We’d finally reconciled, yet with a piece of Theht inhabiting my consciousness, I felt I could never be close to him. How long until I could no longer control the goddess? What if I hurt him? Or worse, what if I killed him? I still hadn’t told anyone what Theht had done to me, and I wasn’t sure if I would ever b
e able to admit it to anyone. Not even to Kull.
Even so, I missed him more than humanly possible, and despite the goddess lurking in my head, I still wanted to be with him. He had the unique talent of calming my fears. Plus, he was a gorgeous Wult warrior, which only made the business of our being apart even worse. Not being in the same world with him put me in a dark mood.
A knock came at the door, so I pushed Han off my lap, crossed to the door, and opened it. A man with piercing golden eyes, a pressed white suit, and striking silver hair stood tall on my doorstep. He carried a wooden cane carved with a dragon’s head on top. Looking regal in every sense of the word, he gave me gentle smile. It took me a moment to find my voice.
“Fan’twar?”
“Hello, Olive.”
My stepfather made it a point never to cross worlds. In fact, I hadn’t seen him in a human form since I was a kid, and I couldn’t remember the last time he’d been to Earth.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
A low growl rumbled in his chest, and I heard the dragon in his voice.
“I’ve got bad news, I’m afraid.”
Chapter 2
I sat across from Fan’twar in the booth at a hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant. It had been a Taco Bell in another life and had been reincarnated to serve the best pizza and breadsticks on the planet. As we placed our drink orders, I found myself still in shock that he’d crossed worlds and taken a human form. As of yet, he still hadn’t given me a great explanation for why he’d come to Earth.
He’d wanted to go out for lunch and sample Earth Kingdom cuisine. I’d refused at first, eventually admitting the sad state of my checking account, which had only given him reason to take me out on his dime. I couldn’t argue—dragons were loaded.
So, we’d ended up here.
“Do you know why I’ve come?” he asked.
“No. I’m pretty puzzled, to be honest.”
“Yes, I assume you must be quite confused. I had at one time made it a point never to cross to Earth at all. The memory loss is not something I wish to experience, and memory charms have never worked well with dragon magic. Furthermore, Earth magic will frequently transform dragons into crocodiles or lizards, giving them the intelligence of primitive animals and making it impossible for us to create portals to return home. Of course, one need only take a human form before crossing to avoid those side effects.”
“Interesting. You know, I don’t think I’ll ever look at lizards in quite the same way.”
The waitress arrived with our drinks and a breadbasket, which filled the air with the scent of buttered garlic. After taking our orders, the waitress exited to the back and I turned my attention to my stepfather.
“So why did you come to Earth?”
“Hmm…” he growled, sounding more dragon than human, “I am troubled over the elves—particularly the elven queen.”
Chills prickled my skin. Anything having to do with her was never a good thing.
“What about the queen?”
“She has been gaining a fair amount of support from the elven nobles. While she stands strong as elven leader, I suspect she is not satisfied.”
“You think she wants to rule more than just elves?”
“Indeed.”
“Short of assassinating you, I don’t see how she plans to do it.”
“There are powers in Faythander that are stronger than me, young one.”
“Maybe. But it’s not just your powers that make you ruler. You respect all races, and so they respect you. She doesn’t. In fact, most races hate her. And if she kills you, she’ll be making more enemies than she has now.”
Fan’twar sipped his soda, made an odd face, and then stared at the brown fizzy liquid. “The beverages have changed since I was here last. What is this?”
“It’s basically liquid sugar with carbonation. It’s called Coke. Do you like it?”
He took another sip, then swallowed, his brows knit in concentration. “It has an odd flavor. Reminds me of a mold-worm custard. What is yours?”
“It’s called Dr. Pepper. Try it.” I scooted the glass toward him.
He took it and sipped the soda. “Yes,” he said, “I prefer this. May I?”
“Sure.”
I reluctantly scooted his Coke toward me, trading drinks with him. Yet another reason why I could never live with Kull or Fan’twar in Earth Kingdom—I’d never get the luxury of finishing my own drinks between the two of them.
“Now,” Fan’twar said after a long gulp, “you are correct that the queen would be foolish to try and kill me, but there are other ways of gaining rule in Faythander. Have you ever heard of the lost isle of the Tremulac Sea?”
“Of course. It’s Faythander’s version of King Arthur if I remember right.”
“Not exactly. While Earth Kingdom’s King Arthur promoted peace and equality, symbolized by the round table, the nobles of Tremulac did the opposite.”
“But there are similarities,” I said. “Each story spoke of a magic sword, and each told of kingdoms being united, although one story did it more peacefully than the other. Why do you bring it up?”
“Because, the power used by those who ruled Tremulac was hidden away, and most assumed it was never in danger of being resurrected again. Now, that may not be the case.”
“Euralysia plans to restore Tremulac?”
He nodded.
“But, how?” I asked.
He reached inside his suit pocket and pulled out a slim leather book. As he passed it to me, I noticed the pages were brown with age and the red and gold paint on the covering had faded. I took it from him.
“What is this?”
“It is a journal I discovered many years ago, written by Dracon, one of the Madralorde brothers of Tremulac Isle. While it is incomplete, it may be of help to us.”
As I carefully flipped through the brittle pages, I found a map and drawings of various weapons coupled with descriptions among the entries.
“Does it say anything useful?”
“Most of the entries are vague, although it does tell us that there were seven brothers, and each wielded a magical weapon of incredible power. They used these weapons not for peace, but for power. The journal does not say how these weapons were forged—a secret the brothers took to their graves. It is also missing several pages that I believe speak of the lost sword of the Madralorde.”
I nodded. “‘The only weapon more powerful than fate.’ Yeah, I remember the stories, but I’m surprised she’s looking for it. Quests for make-believe swords seem like a waste of time.”
“You only say that because no one has found it.”
“No. I say it because it doesn’t exist.”
“That’s not entirely true. I’ve come across some knowledge that leads me to believe the sword is indeed real. Also, if the queen didn’t believe she could find it, she wouldn’t be searching for it. If she does find these weapons, then she will gain the power to not only overcome me, but to control any power she chooses, including Theht.”
The waitress arrived from the kitchen with a cheese pizza, although my mind wasn’t on the food. Fan’twar eyed the pizza, then took a slice and nibbled a bite.
“Do you like it?” I asked.
“It’s acceptable. Not quite as good as the meat pies Charl prepares.”
“She cheats. I swear she adds a little magic to those pies.”
He gave me a slight grin. “Good cooking does not require magic, young one.”
“You’re right. It requires skill and luck. And I have neither.”
Fan’twar laughed. “I suppose your lack of culinary skills is partially my own fault, as we spent more time training in magic than learning to cook, didn’t we?”
“Yes, but I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”
I took a slice of pizza and placed it on my plate as I mulled over our conversation, still curious about the story of the seven brothers and the lost sword.
“I’m confused,” I said aft
er taking a bite. “If the seven brothers were able to harness Theht’s power, and if they used it to create incredibly powerful weapons, then why aren’t they ruling Faythander now?”
“That is a bit of a mystery. I have read the journals, researched the ancient tomes, and learned that historians agree—the brothers did indeed have the ability to control Theht’s powers. Why they were unable to complete the ritual is a mystery.”
I eyed him. Mystery was a word Fan’twar didn’t use often.
“Don’t you have any theories as to what happened?”
His eyes darkened, and—as if on cue—clouds covered the sun outside, making the room grow dimmer. “There are some who claim the castle on Tremulac Isle is cursed.”
“Cursed how?”
He shook his head, his eyes seeming to wander to a different time. “Something evil happened in that castle, although I do not know any more than that.”
I tapped my fingers on the table as I mulled over his words. Fan’twar wasn’t easily spooked. What had happened in that castle?
“In order for the summoning to work,” Fan’twar said as he took another slice of pizza, “the seven weapons will have to be restored, and the elves know this. One of the weapons—the staff of Zaladin—is now hidden in the vaults in the silverwitch’s castle.”
Silvestra, the dragon silverwitch, was not one of my favorite people. I had only met her once, but with the amount of power she wielded, once had been enough. She had taken Kull’s sword in exchange for our passage to the top of her mountain—a deal that still bothered me.
“Do the elves know the witch has the staff?”
“I am sure they must know it by now, and they have successfully stolen from Silvestra in the past, which makes it only a matter of time before they attempt to steal from her again. We cannot let this happen. You control the magic of both Earth and Fairy World. The witch controls dragon and black magic. Technically speaking, you are equals, which means you have the ability to beat her.”
Fairy World M.D., Boxed Set Two (4-6.5) Page 1