Guardians Of Magic: The Revelations of Oriceran (The Leira Chronicles Book 8)

by Martha Carr

  He made his way down Rainey Street keeping an eye out for a chance to test his skills, but the street was mostly empty except for the few people stopping in the food truck court further down the block to get a breakfast taco before they headed for work. The troll easily slipped around their feet without being noticed, breathing in the odor of bacon and egg wrapped in a tortilla. “Yum….” He stopped and looked back, wondering if there was time but held up his little paw. “No…” The troll shook his head as two college students working off a hangover walked by.

  “Extra salsa is the key. It gets your blood going,” said the young man in shorts, flip flops and a UT sweatshirt.

  “I don’t know…” said his friend in baggy jeans and a button-down shirt. His hair was rumpled and there were dark circles under his eyes.

  “You need to do something, Ralph. You look like death warmed over.”

  Ralph grimaced, hesitating.

  “Come on! Do it!”

  The troll watched, licking his lips. “I can see how Ralph got himself into trouble last night,” he squeaked.

  “You hear something?”

  “Quit delaying. Take a bite. A big one. There you go. That’s how you do it.”

  Ralph chomped down on the side of the taco, splintering the shell as Yumfuck slid underneath, his mouth wide open ready to catch all the falling pieces. He opened and shut his mouth, chewing as fast as he could as bits of cheese, bacon and egg and bits of tortilla with globs of salsa came his way. Tiny sounds of gargling erupted out of him. Ralph peered over the taco he was eating and saw the small troll with green hair wearing a tiny backpack and jumped, dropping the rest of the taco.

  Yumfuck easily caught it gently in his arms and ran for the security of the nearby bushes.

  “You see that? There was a…a…a gerbil wearing a backpack! He stole my taco!”

  “Oh Ralph, this is worse than I thought. Dude, you’re still drunk! Come on, we’ll get you a taco with some of that ghost pepper salsa. That’ll knock it right out of you. Come on, you’ll thank me later.”

  “No, wait… but…” Ralph spied the troll devouring his taco, shoving pieces into his mouth. Yumfuck always liked to be hospitable and waved, smiling, his cheeks bulging. “Yumfuck!” he chirped, happy with the way the day was starting. “Maybe just one more.” He trilled, adjusting his backpack and pulling out his panties, tying them around his head. “Go in undercover, motherfuckers!”

  He crept along the rim of the grassy food court till he got to the first truck. From there it was easy to creep along the back of each truck till he got to the short green truck with large pink hearts and the words Taco Baby painted at the top. There was a long line crowded in front of the truck but the young woman in a white t-shirt and stained white apron was moving fast, taking down orders and grabbing the tacos being made behind her.

  Yumfuck scrambled up the side of one of the large tires positioned right under the order window and perched himself on the edge, leaning out. A flutter of white napkins passed by him and a tall, leggy blonde woman with a long braid looked underneath. “A troll,” she whispered, delighted. “In a mask, no less!” She put her finger to her lips and smiled, giving the troll a wink. “I’ve got you.” She stood back up and pulled out two extra dollars. “Can I get one more?” She took the warm taco wrapped in foil and bent down, handing it over to the troll. “Not a rescue, okay? My mom would kill me if I bonded with one of you.”

  The troll let out a cackle and grabbed onto the taco with both hands, lifting it over his head as he slid off the side of the tire. Ralph watched the bobbing taco run toward him through the grass and felt the remains of what he just ate bubble up inside of him. “I am never drinking again… This time I mean it!”

  “Aloha motherfucker!” chirped the troll as he ran across Ralph’s foot.

  “Tell me you saw that! Tell me you saw the taco talk! Clear as day! Aloha motherfucker!” Ralph held out his foot as if it were evidence of something.

  The young woman whispered into Ralph’s ear too quietly for anyone to hear. “Never was, never will be.” Ralph teetered, rocking back on his heels and fell backward into his friend’s arms, out cold. “You are a serious lightweight, dude,” his friend, muttered, laying him out in the grass and splashing his face with water.

  The girl watched the troll disappear around the corner and smiled, grateful for the little reminder of another home.

  Ralph sputtered and opened his eyes, looking around. “What happened?” His face turned red as he saw all the people gathered around him.

  “Dude, you were insisting the whole world was coming to life and talking to you. Dancing gerbils, talking tacos! What exactly did you drink last night?”

  Hands reached out to help Ralph to his feet as he looked around dazed. “What? Last thing I remember was paying for the parking. Did we eat yet?”

  The girl slipped out of the park, turning just in time to see a taco in silver foil bobbing further down the street.

  The troll found an old twisted root to sit on under a bush and opened the foil, diving head first into the center of the taco, his mouth wide open. “Mmmm… yumfuck.” He wiped his mouth on nearby leaves and balled up the foil making a nice layup into the nearby trash can and scrambled out from under the bushes heading toward Davis Street. Ralph’s friend shook his head hard. “Dude… did you just see? Never mind. Think we got hold of some bad tequila last night. Still seeing things.”

  The troll made his way down Davis toward the frontage road by the highway, determined to find someone to help. He rubbed his belly, letting out a loud belch, tasting the taco again and smiling. “What?” He held his paw up to his pointy ear, listening. There it was again.

  The sound of loud mewing coming from a nearby pecan tree growing in front of a strip mall. An orange tabby was stuck in the tree near the top, too frightened to come back down the way it got up there, crying for help, tucked into a corner by the trunk.

  “At last!” The troll swung into action, flexing its tiny muscles for a moment, getting into character. Yumfuck adjusted the mask and set out to climb the tree, digging in with his claws as he got near the cat. The cat saw the masked troll coming closer and mewed louder, backing away from the approaching new super hero. Yumfuck stopped on a lower branch and trilled, calming the cat, studying the best way to get the tabby to safety. He took off the mask, putting it in his backpack and set the backpack aside, hanging it off a narrow branch. Still trilling, he grew to the size of a large dog, bending the branch he was standing on as he reached up to grab the cat and put her under his arm.

  The cat looked at the rows of sharp teeth and tufts of green hair on the growing furry troll in front of her and she arched her back, hissing. The troll was not deterred. “Batfuck does not back down!” He reached out for the cat, scaring her as she rolled backward off the branch, half falling, half leaping from branch to branch till she was finally back on the ground. She shook all over, her fur still standing on end and scampered away.

  The troll watched from the tree, only a little disappointed. “Cat rescued, still counts.” He shrunk back down to his usual five inches and gathered his backpack and mask, scrambling back down the tree. Once safely on the ground again he brushed his hands together. “All in all, a damn fine morning!”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  There was yellow tape across room 302 at the Driskill Hotel as most of the management met downstairs to decide what to do about the room. There was a suggestion to play up the haunted features of the room and see if there were any takers but most of the staff wanted to lock the door and never open it again.

  Several guests complained of finding their belongings ransacked and a strange clear goo clinging to everything. Dry cleaning was quickly offered and a free night but no real explanation beyond a shrug and mutterings about how strange people are these days.

  A junior manager was sent up with a bellhop to inspect the room and write down any of the damage for the insurance claim. Both young men stood nervously outside t
he door, debating about going inside.

  “We have to at least inspect the room.” The junior manager grasped the iPad close to his chest against his dark blue polyester jacket with large gold buttons.

  “I say we make a good estimate of the damage. No one else is willing to go in there. They’ll never know. Put down that the carpet’s ruined along with the bedspread, and maybe the curtain and a lamp. I’ll bet we’re close to being right.”

  “No, that’s too much of a guess. Look, we can compromise. We open the door and stand right here and see if we can tell what’s ruined. Then at least if they ask us if we saw the damage we can answer honestly.”

  “What if they ask if we went in the room?”

  “We’ll put a foot over the line so we can answer that one too.” The junior manager reached out, hesitantly touching the doorknob, prepared for anything.

  “Gaaah!” The bellhop let out a yelp, startling the junior manager who jumped back, plastering himself against the far wall.

  “What the hell did you do that for?” His voice came out in a squeak, breaking in the middle.

  “You almost peed yourself, didn’t you?” The bellhop grinned, cracking his knuckles. “Okay, I’m ready now. Do it! Let’s light this rocket!”

  “You do it, you little fucker!”

  “I’m pretty sure the hotel employee manual says you can’t talk to me like that.”

  “Do it or I’ll throw you in the room myself and shut the door!”

  “Are you crying? Fine, I’ll do it. Geez, you should be thanking me.” The bellhop wiped his damp palms on his pants, swallowing hard. “I broke the tension,” he muttered, leaning back as he touched the handle with the tips of his fingers.

  “You have to use the key card, you dolt.”

  The bellhop let out a frustrated sigh. “You could have mentioned that. That means we’re even.” He held out his hand for the card as the junior manager slapped it into his open palm. “Okay, attempt number two.”

  “How is this number two? You didn’t even have the key card the first time!”

  The bellhop rolled his eyes, pressing his lips together to keep himself from saying what he was really thinking. What a knob. I hope whatever’s in here eats him. Then, I’ll apply for his job. This could turn into a really good day.

  He inserted the card, pulling it back out again as the green light flickered and he turned the handle, touching it as little as possible. He pushed the door open, holding it there with his foot as the junior manager leaned down and pushed a rubber wedge into the bottom of the door.

  “There, now we can get a really good look.” He smiled as he looked at his handiwork, pleased that he thought to bring it with him.

  The bellhop’s mouth hung open as he stared into the room. Bubbling was appearing in the middle of the hotel room at his eye level as if the fabric of the air was overheating or some horrible transparent rash was developing and clinging to the atmosphere. The bubbling spread, making it hard for him to see the window behind it, and bulged toward the two men. “Do… do you…do you see that too?”

  “What now? Is this another one of your… Holy crap!” The junior manager looked up annoyed, in time to see an arm push through the bubbling, sticky film.

  “You almost expect someone to yell out bubble, bubble, toil and trouble,” muttered the bellhop. He reached out and clutched the junior manager’s sleeve.

  A muscled shoulder appeared as the hand reached out further, looking for something to hold onto to pull itself out of the world in between. The head emerged of the old King of Oriceran, still in battle gear and full leather armor from his battle with Rhazdon outside the old castle eight hundred years ago. His long silver hair tied back with a thin strip of leather. He yelled out, bellowing as his other arm emerged and he ripped the veil between the two worlds, stepping into room 302 of the Driskill Hotel, towering over the two men still cowering by the door, frozen to the spot with shock and fear.

  “We should run.”

  “Yeah, we should run. That’s a very good idea.”

  Neither one of them could take their eyes off the tall Elven king in leather armor still holding onto his sword. “Where is this hell hole?” bellowed the king as he looked around at the thick carpet and paisley pattern on the quilted bedspread.

  “Austin?” chirped the bellhop.

  The junior manager swallowed hard and finally stood up straighter. “I’ll have you know this is one of the finest hotels in town!”

  The old king lifted his sword over his head as the two men gasped and clung to each other, backing up to the far wall in the hallway.

  The king swiveled and wielded his sword, slashing at something trying to claw its way out of the world in between as a black mist puffed and a thick stench hung in the room. More grey arms appeared in the rip, the flesh hanging off their bones and long claws slicing at the air. “I need fire! Bring me a torch!” The king slashed left and right as limbs flew into the air, turning into puffs of black mist as more arms came up to replace them.

  The bellhop ran his hands frantically over his jacket trying to remember where he left his Zippo lighter, finally finding it in his pants pocket. He got it out, lighting the small flame and leaned toward the king, taking a few steps into the room. “Here,” he said, his hand shaking.

  The junior manager slapped his hand on his cheek. “Are you fucking kidding me? That’s going to do the trick?” The color had drained from his face, but he couldn’t bring himself to move off the spot where he stood.

  The king turned, grabbing the lighter and held it close to the bubbling, catching it on fire as it sizzled and popped. Cries of anguish erupted from the world in between as the opening burned and the veil sealed itself. The fire burned itself out, tar dripping onto the carpet quickly burning a round hole everywhere it spilled.

  The king turned, slashes along his arms and sheathed his sword. “I’m in search of a beast that escaped from the world in between. Can either of you help me?”

  The junior manager’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as he teetered back and slid down the wall out cold.

  The king looked to the bellhop as he curled his hands into fists just under his chin, keeping his elbows pressed against his body. “A… a beast? Um, there was a report of something weird a day or two ago,” he stammered. “What are you?” The bellhop waved his hand in the direction of the king’s pointed ears. “Fucking Lord of the Rings or something? That is the most badass special effect I’ve ever seen! How the hell did you do that?”

  “I’m the King of Oriceran in search of the beast that controls the dark mist.” The king stepped forward, the ground shaking under his footsteps.

  “Okay, cool… staying in character. I can dig it. You guys ever use extras?”

  “Never was, never will be…” Turner Underwood got to the doorway as the bellhop froze in place. “Come on, we don’t have much time, your highness. The spell doesn’t last but a few minutes. Welcome to Earth.”

  “Earth? Have the gates opened again? It can’t be that long since I fell into that abyss. Who are you?”

  Turner doffed his hat and bowed. “I am your old friend, Turner Underwood, although unlike you I have aged quite a bit, and no, it’s only been about eight hundred years. Long enough.”

  “Turner,” gasped the king. “You’ve gotten older my friend.” The king clapped Turner on the shoulder as Turner walked toward the stairs.

  “I brought you some clothes that should fit. You can change in the stairwell. It’s good to see you again too, your majesty. I thought you were lost to us forever.”

  “I recognize that room. The world in between opened up there before, didn’t it?”

  “Yes, and you fought bravely alongside your grandson, Prince Rolim.” Turner led the king quickly down the hallway and to the stairs, holding open the door. “We should hurry. This city puts up with a lot, but this may test their love of the weird.”

  “The beast has escaped from the world in between. We have to find him
before it’s too late.”

  “We will, but first let’s get to a more secure location. A reunion is in order.”

  “You don’t understand… The beast, he’s a friend. Lucius is alive.”

  Turner’s face paled as he hesitated and shook his head. “Even more reason to hurry. The old way of doing things is changing with every day even as our pasts are coming back to haunt us.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  The patio at Estelle’s was festooned with white papier mache streamers tied from tree to tree and glass bowls of white magnolias with thick green, leathery leaves floating in the bowls. White linen table cloths were thrown over the glass top tables near the corn hole pit and the side of the bar was draped with strings of little white lights along the front. The bigger picnic tables were moved to one side to leave room for dancing on the slate patio.

  A Closed for a Celebration sign was hung on the front door, decorated with white roses.

  Eireka and Don were under strict orders not to arrive early for the bridal shower that Cassidy and Kimberly kept calling the bride and groom shower. Mitzi rolled her eyes at that one but for once didn’t add in her two cents. Leira, Correk and Mara were keeping them busy walking on Main Street in nearby Fredericksburg, Texas. Yumfuck was neatly tucked in Leira’s purse, lounging in a soft pair of panties, being kept quiet with samples from the different shops.

  The regulars were back at Estelle’s pitching in without being asked and were throwing orders back and forth at each other.

  “Put the little fork on the outside. No, on top of the napkins.”

  “For Pete’s sake, Craig, you’re standing across from me. It’s not a mirror. To your left. Other left.”

  “Okay, I got more ice. Where do I put it?”

  “Hey, did anyone get those little colored mints? You know, the little pink and yellow ones. I love those.”