Fairy World M.D., Boxed Set Two (4-6.5)

by Tamara Grantham

  As far as I could tell, he’d brought no camera crew with him, which meant that he intended to be out here on the beach by himself as the waves rolled in. Drowning seemed like an awful way to go, but then again, he wasn’t in his right mind.

  Zack pressed the button to roll up the window, but I grabbed the glass and he released the button.

  “You can’t do this,” I said. “You have to come back with me. Please. You can’t leave your family.”

  “What do you know about my family?”

  “I spoke to your wife earlier.”

  “My wife? Did she tell you that she kicked me out? Left my stuff on the driveway and changed the door locks? She wouldn’t even let me visit the kids, even though I’d done nothing to hurt them. I’d never even raised my voice. Not once. She made me leave because I was a bad bookkeeper, because I squandered all our money and life savings on trinkets. Do you know how I felt the day I realized I lost my family? Nothing compares to that kind of pain. I don’t care what they say—losing your family is the worst pain you’ll ever experience. And even after that, after all that heartache, do you know what I did? I went online and purchased another one.”

  His voice cracked as tears formed in his eyes. His hands shook as he removed his glasses.

  “Let me do this, Dr. Kennedy. Let me go so they can have their lives back. They’ll get the life insurance, and my debts will be erased. I owe them that much, at least.”

  I tried to remain calm, but having my suspicions confirmed that he was indeed trying to commit suicide came as a shock. “Zack, listen to yourself,” I said. “They don’t need your money. They need you. Your wife and your kids and your unborn baby—they all need you.”

  “No they don’t! I’ve ruined their lives. Can’t you see that?”

  Beyond the van, the sky roared with tornadic fury. I felt as if I stared into the gaping maw of hell itself. Gray clouds spiraled, making a huge funnel-shaped formation. The wind roared like a freight train.

  “Goodness gracious,” Zack muttered, “is that a tornado forming over the water?”

  He grabbed his camera, unlatched the door, and jumped out of the van. I followed as he ran toward the water. The waves had risen to the van’s front tires. Zack splashed through the water as he stood on the beach, facing the storm head-on with the camera on his shoulder, waves crashing around his ankles.

  “Mr. Zimmerman,” I called over the raging wind. “What are you doing?”

  “If I’m going to go,” he shouted back, “then I’ll do it like this. That tornado is headed straight this way. I couldn’t ask for a more perfect moment. I’m sorry, Dr. Kennedy, but this is the opportunity I’ve been waiting for. You should leave now.”

  “I can’t leave. I need your help. Please, just come away from the beach so we can talk.”

  He ignored me to stare into the face of the storm. With the waves crashing in my ears, coupled with the deafening roar of the wind and the sand blasting my skin, I felt as though the storm would tear me apart.

  Fear trembled through my veins as I watched the waves tower over us, some the height of two-story buildings, and beyond them, the greenish-gray sky loomed. I could distinctly make out the shape of a funnel cloud, an enormous dark gray block against the lighter gray sky. The wind ripped past with a fury so strong it nearly knocked me over as I trudged toward Zack. Cold water splashed my ankles, then my calves and thighs as I struggled forward.

  I refused to let him go this way. Zack was right—I’d never failed to cure a client, and I damn well wouldn’t let it happen now.

  A wave rose over us, so tall it blocked out the sky. As it crested, my mind went blank, absorbed by fear.

  Water crashed around us, so cold it stole my breath. The current tugged me under. The salt-saturated liquid filled my lungs, burning my throat, and stinging my eyes. Brown, silt-laden darkness surrounded me. My ears popped as they filled with water. I kicked for the surface when the wave retreated, leaving me and Mr. Zimmerman alone on the beach. As I sat up, I choked on the water, and then took several deep breaths. Mr. Zimmerman sputtered and coughed as he lay on the sand.

  Shivering, I crawled toward him and grabbed his arm, then tugged him upright. His eyes were wide and filled with fear. Perhaps the rogue wave had been his wake-up call.

  “What are you doing?”

  “We’re getting to my car. This is insane.”

  “No, I won’t go.” But he didn’t sound as determined as earlier, so I managed to get him in a standing position and tug him to my car. Thankfully, I’d parked far enough away that the water hadn’t reached it yet.

  I opened the passenger side door and shoved him in. The wind was so strong it nearly tore the door from its hinges, and it took several tries for me to slam it shut. After I walked around the car and attempted to open the driver’s side door, I briefly glanced at the sky. Palm fronds and plastic bags whipped through the air. Beyond the debris, the tornado took up half the sky.

  After yanking my door open, I slid onto the seat, then slammed the door shut behind me. With shaking hands, I cranked the car, but only the rumble under the seats told me the engine had ignited as the raging roar of the wind drowned out any other sounds.

  As I backed the car off the beach, Zack kept his hands tucked in his lap as he rocked back and forth, his eyes unmoving from the sky. He looked on the verge of bolting out the door to face the storm once again, but Heaven help me, I refused to let him do it.

  “Stay with me, Zack. We’re going to take shelter in the gas station. You’ve got to pull through this, okay?”

  He mumbled something, but I couldn’t understand the words.

  Hailstones pelted the car’s windshield, small at first, but growing larger as we neared the gas station. I parked the car in front of the store, then killed the engine. The clatter of the ice pellets echoed through the car. Zack remained motionless in his seat. With the haunted look in his eyes, he seemed close to a nervous breakdown.

  “We’ve got to get inside,” I yelled.

  He buried his head in his hands. “No,” he moaned. “I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can. Just follow me. We’ll do this together.”

  He looked up, his face filled with rage. “Why are you even trying to help? I’m this way because of you. You deserve to die with me!”

  His words stung, but I tried not to let it show. “Please try to understand, I wish I could have helped you sooner, but I didn’t know how. Now, I think I may know how to help you. Just come inside the store with me. That’s all I’m asking.”

  He sat for a moment longer, seemingly mulling over my words, and then he grabbed the door handle and flung it open. I followed him outside. Hailstones pummeled my head and neck, making me sprint to the double glass doors and fling them open. Zack stayed behind me as we darted inside the gas station.

  The door slammed behind us. Inside, two women huddled behind the counter. Zack and I headed for the hiding place as the hailstones pelted the glass windows, fracturing them. The sound of cracking glass mingled with the roar of the wind.

  “Mind if we hide with you?” I shouted over the noise.

  “Go ahead for now, but we’ll be moving into the bathroom if it gets any worse,” one of the women answered. “And pray we survive.”

  Zack and I ducked behind the counter, leaving me with a partial view of the world outside. Several palm trees surrounded the station and the road across the street, and the wind battered them, tearing off entire sections that got sucked into the storm. Streetlights illuminated the pitch-colored sky in pools of hazy orange. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen the sky so dark during daytime.

  The sound of the wind changed in intensity, from a high-pitched wail to a low, deafening howl—the characteristic sound of a freight train.

  “It’s coming,” Zack said beside me.

  “In here,” one of the women said as she unlocked a bathroom. We crammed inside as she shut the door behind us. We huddled near the sink, and although I was indoors, I wasn’t su
re the thin layer of boards and roof shingles would be enough to protect us from the mammoth tornado I’d seen over the ocean.

  I squeezed my eyes shut as the sounds of crashing came from outside the door. My heart echoed the sound of the freight train, beating so forcefully I was surprised it didn’t crack my chest. Something banged against the door, making me jump back. One of the women let out a muffled scream.

  The sound of ripping came from overhead, and water dripped in streams from the ceiling and pooled onto the linoleum floor.

  “Have we lost the roof?” one of the ladies asked.

  Tiles ripped away from the ceiling, revealing patches of the outside sky, a sickening greenish-gray. Overhead, pieces of debris whipped past as the funneling winds sucked them away.

  “Are we gonna die?” one of the women screamed, her voice panicked. I wanted to reassure her that everything would be okay, but the fear wouldn’t let me speak, and I wasn’t sure I would be telling the truth anyway. Maybe Zack would get his wish after all.

  I kept my arms tucked over my head as the tornado passed over us, tearing off large sections of the roof. A massive clatter erupted around us as the wind ripped apart the tiny bathroom. The sink tore from the wall, spraying water over us. Chunks of cinder blocks crumbled onto the floor, raining bits of sharp stone down onto the floor.

  Broken pieces of plywood combined with the stones. Something heavy struck my head. I fell back, screaming, realizing I was going to die, and then everything went black.

  I awoke with the metallic taste of blood in my mouth. As I opened my eyes, I found Zack hunched over me. As I scanned the area surrounding us, I realized I was lying in what was left of the bathroom—half a wooden frame, a portion of the roof, and the toilet remained sticking up in a sea of boards and debris. I rubbed my head, feeling a tender bruise on my cheek and along my hairline.

  “Where’s everyone else?” I asked.

  “They’re fine. They both made it back to their cars, and we’re waiting on an ambulance. You got it the worst, I’m afraid.”

  “Oh.” My head felt as if it had turned to lead, and I had trouble focusing on Zack’s face. But I didn’t have time to wait for an ambulance. I’d been in Earth Kingdom for far too long already, and now that the tornado had passed, I was desperate for answers.

  “Zack,” I said, “please, will you let me help you now?”

  “Help me?” he asked, confused. “What do you mean? I’m helping you. Come on, let me at least get you back to your car.”

  “My car? It’s okay?”

  I glanced over his shoulder to find the beast still parked where it was. Except for a few new dents, the car looked pristine.

  “Fine,” I grumbled and allowed him to help me stand. I hobbled on shaky feet back to my car, unlocked the door, and sat in the driver’s seat. I had trouble focusing on anything. My thoughts felt like a jumbled mess. But one thing I did know—I needed Zack’s help finding the vachonette egg. That one thought played through my head as I found my bag in the backseat, thankful my mirror was still intact inside. The feel of the plastic casing under my fingers gave me a sense of relief and helped me clear my head. My stomach felt sick and my head pounded. I’d most likely suffered a concussion, but none of that mattered right now.

  As I opened my mirror, the familiar Faythander magic enveloped me.

  “You’re really doing this now?” Zack asked.

  “Yes. I don’t have a choice.” I turned to him as he knelt on the ground outside my door. “There are some really bad things happening in Fairy World. My stepfather, the dragon king of Faythander, has been captured, and the only way to get him free is by trading him for a very rare dragon egg. It’s called the vachonette, and it’s black with gold bands—the only one of its kind.”

  His eyes widened. He pulled the pendant from beneath his shirt collar. A tiny black-and-gold egg hung suspended on the silver chain. “Like this?”

  “Yes. Exactly like that.”

  “But I don’t understand. Why do you need my help?”

  “Because you’ve most likely seen it. And you’re the only person who may know where it’s located. That’s why it’s so important I do this spellcasting. If we can figure out where you saw that egg, then I may be able to get my stepfather back.”

  He shook his head. “Dr. Kennedy, you’re in no condition to be working right now. Let the ambulance get here first. Let the medical team examine you. Then we can talk diagnosis.”

  “But I can’t wait that long. Please, every second we waste brings him closer to death. You don’t understand what sort of monster is holding him captive. She will do what she says—she will kill him.”

  He looked out over the landscape. Palm trees stuck up like matchsticks, stripped of their leaves. Ruined piles of lumber mingled with broken windows. In a few places, shelves were still standing, holding on to their stacks of canned corn and mixed fruit. Although the tornado had passed, we still had the storm to deal with, yet the rainy drizzle seemed like nothing compared to the tornado. Zack’s breathing grew shallow as he wiped beads of sweat from his forehead.

  “You know,” he said, “it was a short time ago that I was begging you for help.” He looked at me. “If I do this, will it cure me of my compulsions?”

  “I can’t say for certain, but there’s a very good chance you’ll never struggle with your mental disease again.”

  “And… do you think I’ll be able to have a normal life again?”

  “I’ve seen it happen for many people. I don’t think you’ll be any different.”

  He nodded, finally seeming to make up his mind. “Very well,” he said with a sigh. “Show me what’s in the mirror.”

  Chapter 23

  Sirens wailed in the distance as I sat in my car with Zack kneeling beside me. The ruin the tornado had left behind littered the ground as far as we could see, but despite the destruction, I was focused on something else.

  “What makes you think you’ll be able to work the spell now?” Zack asked me.

  “Because now I have a way to focus on what happened when you went there. Could you take off your necklace, please?”

  He did as I said and pulled the chain off his head.

  “May I hold it?” I asked.

  He nodded, then placed it in my palm. “Careful,” he said. “That’s worth twenty-two grand.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. You remember how we did this last time?”

  “I think so.”

  “Good. Just try to stay calm while the magic works. Remember, we’ll only be seeing your memories. Nothing can hurt you.”

  “I understand.”

  Magic formed in my hands as I held the egg pendant. Blue and amber light glowed from my hands and into the stone, reflecting in the mirror. My hope was that the stone would serve the same purpose as the figurines and we’d have better results this time. But I wasn’t certain of anything, so when the mirror’s screen reacted to the magic and swirled with color instead of remaining empty like last time, I felt a tiny bit of hope.

  “Now,” I told Zack, “put your hand on the screen.”

  He hesitated, looking from me to the screen, as if uncertain whether or not he could trust me, but finally, he seemed to make his decision and placed a hand on the screen.

  Warm magic poured from the glass, enveloping us both as we got sucked into the memory.

  Zack and I stood in a small room made of metal and copper wires. A quiet, mechanical hum came from somewhere as the floor vibrated beneath our feet. The small cubicle seemed to be made for a purely functional purpose, although I noted elven aspects of the architecture—the way the metal panels were lined with ivy vines etched around their edges, the elegant curve of the room’s only table.

  The room wasn’t what I’d been expecting. Usually a person’s memories took us to a typical Faythander location, somewhere in nature, but this room was like nothing I’d ever seen before. I felt for magic in the room, and a spell came to my senses. The bluish color surrounded us, ha
rd to detect, but it felt like Queen Euralysia’s magic.

  I spun around, searching for some explanation to our location, when Zack spoke up.

  “I remember this.” He took a step forward, running his hand over the smooth metal table. “It’s difficult to recall, exactly. I remember the portal opening… I remember going through and finding a field full of these beautiful blue flowers. I’d never seen anything like them. Beyond the field, there was a strange building standing on top of a hill. After I went inside, I saw… elves inside. I know that sounds strange.”

  I cleared my throat and smoothed my hair away from my ears. “I’ve heard of stranger things. Keep going. You saw elves inside the building?”

  “Yes. They were building something—it was made of metal, and it was tall.” He tapped his fingers on the table. “I didn’t know what it was. And then… the elves spoke to me. They said they’d brought me here because they thought I could help them. I was confused and wasn’t sure what they wanted, so they threatened me. I remember being frightened. I thought they would hurt me—kill me, possibly—but then, something happened.” He paused.

  “What happened?”

  “I cooperated.” He stepped away from the table and searched the room, looking from the copper wires to a panel with symbols etched into its face. He traced his finger over the symbols. “The elves said they were interested in some research I’d done. I was a weatherman back on Earth, but that wasn’t how I’d originally started out. Before that, I was determined to be rocket scientist. In college, I’d even written a paper on an alternate form of rocket fuel using ions. I won an award for it.

  “The elves wanted to know more about it.” He spun around as realization lit his face. “That’s it,” he said. “They were running out of their own fuel and needed something else. That’s why they’d taken me. I helped them engineer an alternate fuel, and then they put me on this ship and sent me to their base on the moon.” He spun around, his eyes wide. “I remember,” he said excitedly. “Dr. Kennedy, this is where I saw the egg.”