Wayward Magic (Magic Underground Anthologies Book 2)

by Melinda Kucsera

  Her mouth hung open at the sight. It was then that she heard the scream from out in the castle.

  “No,” she gasped. “I know that voice!”

  The princess is finally back home— again, but who was that screaming? Why have her horns grown in the real world? And why has this been happening to her?

  Find out in the thrilling, magic-filled conclusion, “Parallel Princess: The Wizard and the Demon” in Forgotten Magic!

  Get the conclusion of the “Parallel Princess” stories in Forgotten Magic now!

  About the Author

  Having grown up in the suburbs of Kansas, but never having seen a full tornado or a yellow brick road, C. K. Rieke (pronounced Ricky) has been told more than their fair share of times while traveling, ‘You’re not in Kansas anymore.’ They just respond, ‘Never heard that one,’ with a smile.

  Early in the ’burbs, they found their passion for reading fantasy stories. Reading books with elves, orcs, and monsters took their young imagination to different worlds they wanted to live in.

  Now, they create their own worlds. Not so much in the elves and orc vein, but more in the heroes versus dragons one— there’s a difference, right? Yes, they grew up with The Lord of the Rings and tons of R.A. Salvatore books on their shelves, along with some cookbooks, comics, and a lot of video games, too.

  Other passions are coffee, good beer, and hanging around the gym. To find out more, please visit CKRieke.com. Don't forget to grab your copy of next anthology, Forgotten Magic.

  The Mouth of The Dragon

  Rules

  Devorah Fox

  When his ship goes off course, King Bewilliam and his knights venture into an unknown land in hopes of gaining practical guidance to reach their destination port. Instead, the people they encounter have heard only of the mysterious fabled land of Perooc and its magnificent treasure rumored to satisfy every desire.

  Even those who refute Perooc’s existence live lives shaped by its denial. Others devote themselves to the attainment of its treasure. Yet no one admits to knowing its location and how to reach it. An empiricist, the king wants nothing to do with magic. In pursuit of his own ends, however, he finds himself breaching the gates and plumbing the hidden passages said to lead to Perooc and the acquisition of its secret power.

  I drew inspiration for the three stories of “The Mouth of the Dragon” from “The Parable of the Palace,” a chapter in The Guide to the Perplexed: a masterwork of religious philosophy by Moses ben Maimon (aka Maimonides), a medieval rabbi who seeks to resolve the conflict between metaphysical and secular knowledge.

  Devorah Fox

  Lost while sailing to the port of Hewnstone with food for the famine-stricken Chalklands, King Bewilliam and his knights traverse an uncharted land, hoping to find people who can put them back on course. The king’s realm and the destination port prove to be as mythical as the fabled land of Perooc of which everyone has heard but to which no one has been.

  Guarded by a dragon, Perooc’s magnificent treasure is reputed to satisfy every desire. One by one, the king’s knights fall by the wayside as they confront the menacing citizens of Near and the enraptured denizens of Nowhere who are committed to guarding their secret knowledge of Perooc and its treasure.

  Chapter One

  Robin peered into the conduit's pitch-black depths. He hesitated to enter not out of fear but rather a moment of self-doubt. A hidden conduit suggested there was something to hide, but exploring further meant yet another detour. Would this passage through the wall lead to the answers they sought? Or was he going forward out of idle curiosity?

  When his knights pressed to take the ship’s boat from the Emperor’s Fancy to an unknown shore, Robin suspected they had ulterior motives. They all professed to understand the charge: to bury the remains of their peculiar passenger then return to the ship to resume their voyage to Hewnstone. Robin was their ruler and his knights would do as their King Bewilliam commanded. Yet no sooner had they interred the alleged wizard than the knights pressed to investigate the nearby settlement. Robin acceded, telling himself he hoped for information that would guide them to port. But now he questioned his motives. Could his decision be driven by a latent thrill-seeking side? Did he thirst to find the rumored Perooc and its alleged treasure as much as his knights did?

  The villagers of the settlement called Here had provided no help. Robin and his troop had strayed far from their landing on the beach and had been absent from the Emperor’s Fancy much longer than anticipated. Had Helmsman Tychor held the ship at anchor? Or had he despaired of their return and set sail without them?

  “Sire, I will go scout the interior,” said Dame Deidre.

  Robin wondered if she misinterpreted his hesitation. Before he could reply, something skittered across his boot, a lizard or bug, and hot on its tail, Meeyoo. With a high-pitched whine, the cat followed her prey into the impenetrable gloom. “Oh, no, Meeyoo!” Robin sputtered.

  “I will go after her, Your Majesty,” said Sir Maxwell.

  “No, she is our responsibility. We will.” No one suggested it was foolhardy for a king to venture into an unplumbed dark hole to retrieve a cat. They knew she had intervened on his behalf several times.

  Her hand on her sword, Dame Deidre said, “We will be at your shoulder, Your Majesty.”

  “Stay back until we give the all-clear.”

  “If only we had a torch,” said Sir Maxwell. “There's no shortage of tinder here. I didn't bring a flint, did you, Dame Deidre?”

  The two knights tugged on the cleverly-disguised masonry door to open it to its widest angle. The wash of light revealed a narrow passageway with gray plastered walls receding into blackness. At its depth, two yellow beacons glowed. As Robin’s eyes adjusted to the dimness, he made out a squat shape. Surely it was Meeyoo. Or was this a conduit to the mythical Perooc guarded by a dragon which now hunkered low, poised to defend the treasure? Should Robin call out to his cat or would that rouse the beast? Too late to worry about that now; the dragon could see him framed in the passage's entrance.

  His muscles tightened and his heart beat faster. Robin sniffed for a dragon's signature fetor or the odor of rotten corpses. The tunnel had a dank smell. Unlike the air outside, the conduit was clammy. Holding his breath, he drew his sword. “Meeyoo?”

  The two beacons rose as the shape shifted. The bright spots dimmed then brightened. Did the dragon blink? Robin raised his weapon. “Meeyoo, come here.”

  The shape lowered to a crouch.

  Was it his cat being stubborn or the dragon preparing to charge? Robin checked behind, ensuring his path was clear should he have to flee dragon fire. Sidestepping to present a narrow target and keep one foot aimed to retreat, he inched forward. He kept a firm grip on his sword, ready to impale the beast should it hurl itself at him.

  The shape moved and drew closer. The king exhaled the breath he had held and grabbed the cat by her scruff. She went limp. He had seen her tote her kittens around that way when she had her litter. Meeyoo was no kitten, so he supported her weight with his other hand under her rump. He tucked her into the rucksack and pulled the drawstring firmly. “You rascal, now you stay put.” He told the knights, “We have Meeyoo. The way is clear. We will take the lead moving forward. Stay close, stay wary.”

  Their weapons in hand, the knights followed in his footsteps.

  Still on guard, Robin put one foot before the other. His spirits sank when he reached a wall. “We’ve reached a dead end. Furibund ratsbane,” he cursed. “Maybe it never was a conduit, merely a hollow. The people of There led us to believe this would lead to Perooc. We were sold a lice-covered butt wipe.”

  “Should we go back the way we came, then?”

  “Yes.” Their exploration had yielded no further information about Hewnstone's whereabouts, and they tarried too long. Perhaps Sir Albert had learned something in There or Sir Alan in Here. Left to explore the beach, James might have worked out their location.

  “Sire, this tunnel, it appears
to curve.”

  Robin advanced a couple of steps. “Right you are. Now, this spot, truly this is the end.” He blinked, trying to see clearly. “We believe we detect the outline of another door.” He felt along the wall, brushing away dust and cobwebs.

  “I can feel what I think are side plates.”

  “It must open out then. Is there a handle?”

  “I haven't found one. What if we push …?”

  They threw their weight against the section of wall and it creaked open.

  After the tunnel’s darkness, the sunlight blinded Robin for a moment. “Do you see anyone, anything?”

  Sir Maxwell poked his head out and rubbed his eyes. “So far only a grove like the one we passed through on the other side. No people, no monsters.”

  “Let's move forward then but with caution. Prop the doors open should we need to make a speedy exit,” said the king.

  Looking to the left, the right, and behind as well as ahead, they advanced. The grove opened to a meadow. Dark shapes moved in the distance. Silhouetted by the sunlight, Robin couldn't say for certain what they were.

  “Before we go further, Sire, I propose to climb a tree and see what I can see.”

  The king waved the young knight on.

  Sir Maxwell made quick work of ascending. “Only domestic animals in the field, Sire. Cows, horses, goats, sheep. I see nothing ominous. That isn't to say there couldn't be snakes in the grass or plants that are poisonous, but … Beyond the field, I spot a settlement.”

  “Fine. We will inquire there if anyone can tell us where Hewnstone is.” He grumbled. “That port has become as elusive as this fabled Perooc.” They had yet to meet anyone who had heard of Hewnstone much less his kingdom of the Chalklands. They had been to Here and There but where in Creation were they? He suppressed a groan.

  Buildings came into view and Dame Deidre said, “It appears to be a hamlet like the others.”

  “In size, perhaps. But quite different.” Robin noticed right away the presence of monuments and statuary such as were absent in Here. The houses were not only similar to those in Here and There, but they were also similar to each other. The more he examined them, the more Robin could see the edifices were as identical as human effort could make them, as homogeneous as those in There were varied.

  Unlike the stark structures of Here, these bore ornamentation. A carved wooden emblem, a white ring with a dark outline, adorned each building, affixed on the exact midpoint of walls, posts, and railings.

  Like the buildings, the inhabitants' costumes lacked variation. Men wore neutral-colored leggings and tunics open at the neck. All were devoid of trim save for the round emblem embroidered over the chest of their tunics. Long-sleeved dresses cloaked the women from neck to ankle while hoods covered their hair and shadowed their faces. Of the same shade, fabric, and design as the men’s, the women’s garments were plainer yet, lacking the circle emblem. The inhabitants' outfits were as close to uniforms as they could come without being regimented.

  “Sire, the people … are they drugged or spellbound?” murmured Sir Maxwell.

  “You thought that too.” The inhabitants not only wore clothes like uniforms but they also moved like soldiers on parade. Neither fast nor slow, their steps were metered. They walked in straight lines and turned at right angles.

  “They move so rigidly. Are they entranced?” said Dame Deidre.

  “We can't tell,” Robin said, although if he watched any longer he might become that way. The movement created a hypnotic rhythm. However, the people paused and conversed with each other, entered and exited the buildings. “They just seem to be …” Robin groped for a good description, “… focused. Like they give consideration to how they move.”

  “They don't appear to be dangerous,” said Dame Deidre.

  Robin agreed. None brandished armaments nor was there anywhere to conceal a weapon of any size in their clothing.

  “Should we investigate further?” Sir Maxwell asked.

  “Yes, we will.” Meeyoo shifted in the sack but Robin determined she best remain undercover until they got the measure of these people.

  Charging the two knights to walk unhurriedly so as not to draw attention, Robin led them to where people congregated. As they moved into the crowd, they adopted the inhabitants' measured stride. The locals made no eye contact or gave any indication that they noted the newcomers’ arrival.

  At last a man approached them, albeit with stately steps. He was dressed like the other men. However, his tunic was tinted a pale mauve and his posture and bearing suggested to the king that the man might hold a position of authority. The opening in the neck of his tunic revealed a tattoo of a circle centered under his chin, the round shape ringing his Adam's apple.

  “Welcome, strangers,” the man said. He did not extend his hand in welcome but pressed his palms together as if in prayer and bowed from the waist.

  It seemed a suitable greeting; his hands held no weapon. “Is this Perooc?” Robin asked.

  Turned inward, the man's gaze was vacant as though he was lost in thought but he answered with a gentle smile. “No, this is not Perooc. This is Near.”

  “Then we are close to Perooc?” Sir Maxwell said.

  “We certainly hope so. I am Enono. I am the sentinel. But you ask about Perooc. You are seekers?”

  “We are. We seek not Perooc but Hewnstone. I am King Bewilliam of the Chalklands and the Palisades.” As he had to the sentinels of Here and There, Robin explained their predicament.

  “I regret to say those places are not known to me and so I can give you no guidance in that regard.”

  “Perooc, then? You've heard of it? You say it is near.”

  “No, this is Near. As for Perooc, yes. All of us here have heard of it and we seek it.”

  “Where is it?”

  “It would do no good to tell you. You could neither enter it nor obtain the treasure unless you have merit. You are welcome to join us. We will instruct you in the Laws. When you are worthy then you may aspire to attain it.”

  “The Laws?” Robin's chest tightened. Had they already violated some law for which they would be punished? He clutched the hilt of his sword.

  His eyes still turned inward, Enono's expression was indulgent. “The Laws. If you do not know and follow the Laws you cannot hope to acquire the treasure of Perooc. To attempt would be futile. Through years of study and discipline, we have developed a regimen that observes the Laws in everything we do.”

  Sir Maxwell asked, “You have had ‘seekers’ who achieved that? They have followed the laws and found Perooc?”

  Enono tipped his head to one side. “I cannot personally attest to that. I have not met anyone who has been to Perooc and returned to tell of it. If they did not assiduously study the Laws and follow them, likely they died in the attempt.”

  Or they did reach Perooc and made off with the treasure, Robin thought. Woe to anyone else who came behind to find the sought-after riches plundered.

  Enono gave another gentle smile. “You travelers must be in need of refreshment. We were about to dine. Come.”

  Robin's mouth watered at the prospect of ale and a roast. “We would appreciate the hospitality.”

  They followed Enono to the town’s center, which while it appeared to be Near's common area was round rather than square. A circular table sat at the center of a round gazebo. Several men ringed the table. They stood, hands folded, eyes downcast, an empty wooden bowl and spoon on the table before each one. Each wore a tattoo on his neck identical to Enono's. Robin realized every male in the settlement bore the same mark. If the women did as well it was hidden under their dresses’ high collars.

  At Enono's approach, the men bowed. They swiveled their heads toward Robin and his knights and bowed. Enono bowed in response. Robin noticed they all had the same inward-turned gaze.

  Enono motioned for Robin and Sir Maxwell to take a position to his left. Without speaking or moving their heads, the men sidestepped to make room.

&
nbsp; Enono bowed to Dame Deidre. “At the risk of being inhospitable, I must ask you to wait outside.”

  Dame Deidre frowned and looked Robin a question. He nodded and mouthed, “For now.”

  “I will stand there where I can keep my king in sight,” Dame Deidre huffed. She descended the stairs from the gazebo and stood at parade rest facing the structure's center.

  Enono sat, at which point the men took their seats. Robin and Sir Maxwell followed suit.

  A woman approached, bowed, and set a large round wooden tureen in the table’s center. With another bow, she backed away. Though no one spoke, the men's lips moved. Robin assumed they recited a grace-before-meals. He hoped the growling of his stomach could not be heard in the silence.

  At last, Enono stood, ladled food into a bowl, and passed the bowl to the man at his right. The man exchanged the filled bowl for the empty one of the man to his right who did the same with the man next to him. In that painstaking way, a filled bowl made its way around the table to every man. All would be eating from the same tureen so Robin thought it would be safe for consumption. Eager to dig in, Robin picked up his spoon.

  The repast proved to be undeserving of his enthusiasm. The flavorless gruel had gone cold by the time a filled bowl navigated its way to Robin. He hoped the potage was but the first course of a sumptuous meal but nothing else was served. He recalled the spare diet on which he had once survived and also that lately his subjects fared no better.

  The men ate in silence. Robin stole a glance at Enono. He seemed innocuous. Yet his men were so obedient as if they had surrendered their will to Enono. Robin didn’t want to think it but “bewitched” described it. He didn’t doubt they would do whatever Enono commanded and wondered what endowed the man with such power. Enono was not to be underestimated.