The Gnome’s Magic: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure (The Adventures of Maggie Parker Book 2)

by Martha Carr

  He marched into the back room, shutting the door behind him and quietly turning the lock.

  Carl and Lucinda had their heads together over some private laugh. It only made Simon angrier.

  He was so close to realizing his dream. "I'm the real hero in this story." He held out his hand and watched as a blood bubble formed in his palm while he muttered an ancient spell. Carl dropped the fragile cup he was holding, his mouth dropping open in shock. He clutched his chest with both of his hands and fell back, grabbing at the table. "Simon, what have you done," he gasped, rolling onto the floor. He reached his hand out, sliding it under a nearby dresser that had been sitting in the same spot for years and drew a hasty symbol in the dirt even as his body began to convulse.

  Lucinda dropped to his side, rolling him over and cradling his head. "Carl, stay with me! Carl, are you alright?" Carl's eyes rolled back into his head and he lay back, perfectly still. Lucinda quickly checked his pulse and his breathing. "He's still alive, thank God. I'm calling the police." She lunged for her phone, her fingertips grazing it. Simon waved his arm, the air in the room rippling and cracking and there was the smell of something burning in the air. Lucinda pulled her hand back with a yelp and looked at the scorch marks along her fingers. She felt a throbbing in her hand but ignored it, turning to face Simon and protect Carl. "Let him go. He's done nothing to you but try to be kind. He can't help you." She looked up at the dark eyes staring down at her and refused to flinch.

  "He's the only one who can help me. She'll listen if he tells her to. You need to get out of my way."

  Lucinda only spread out further, covering more of Carl. "Not going to happen. Let this go, Simon. You can ruin your life this way. Let me call for help."

  A surge of energy passed through Simon's head as he leaned in, yelling at Lucinda. "Enough! This is my life now!"

  She could feel his warm breath on her face as the electrical current passed from Simon's body to hers with a snap and a loud crack. She looked up, startled as the darkness of Simon's eyes faded for just a moment and the pale blue color returned. A look of horror overcame him, a vein pulsing in his forehead as he strained, whispering, "I'm sorry," and the ancient magic enveloped him again.

  Lucinda let out a throttled gasp and fell back against Carl's motionless body, her eyes still open, staring up at the ceiling. An inky green color sprouted up through her veins, coloring her body and shrank back again just as quickly as she let out one last breath of air and lay still. The scent of lavender was everywhere.

  Simon stood up again, holding his breath. "Well, it seems I've finally crossed a line." His eyes were shining black marbles as he bent over and carefully moved Lucinda by the broken cup. He took his time and washed out the other cup, ignoring a polite knock at the door from a customer as he placed it back on the shelf where it belonged. Once he was ready, he lifted Carl into his arms and carried him out the back door into the alley to where a car was waiting with a willing follower.

  "How did it go?" asked Frank, nervously looking at the unconscious man in Simon's arms and the cold expression on Simon's face. He got out of the car and opened the back door, waiting. "Did you lose your glasses, boss?"

  Simon gently lowered Carl onto the back seat and looked up at Frank. "I'll drive," he said, his eyes still completely black.

  Frank did his best to hide the shiver that passed through him and the small wave of revulsion. "Sure, sure, no problem." Frank ran around to the other side and got into the car without another word, buckling his seat belt.

  "Good idea," said Simon, starting the car. "A little restraint is called for."

  Chapter Eight

  Maggie was walking up her mother's front steps carrying takeout just as her phone rang. "Hey Jake, I was just thinking of you. I'm at my mom's. I'll tell her you say hello." She smiled, despite the hum that was still tracing along the back of her neck. Maybe my instincts are off. She shivered and shook her head, stopping on the porch.

  Jake's easy laugh came through the phone. "We're texting buddies now. She sends me inspirational quotes once or twice a day."

  "Does she say anything else?"

  "No, that's about the extent of it. No further instructions to head right over, although I wouldn't mind another one."

  Maggie felt her face warm and pressed her hand against her cheek.

  "The last one was, hang on... I'll read it to you. These pains you feel are messengers, listen to them."

  Maggie peered in the small pane of window next to the front door. There was no sign of her mother. "She's back in her Rumi phase, it sounds like. I used to get those. She must like you."

  "She's never met me. She's never actually talked to me."

  "She goes by vibes. You don't have to be present."

  "You know the creepy part is she seems to know what I'm thinking. It's like these random texts are meant to answer a question." Like how do I tell you, I know you're being hunted by Simon Wesley and I want to help? He pressed his lips together, smiling even though she couldn't see him. One slip and she would feel the edge of something and never let go till she found out everything. He wasn't ready for that yet.

  Maggie let out a laugh. "My mother has her own kind of magic that she often bakes into things and generously leaves everywhere. Don't ask, but eat before you ever go to her house."

  "Your mother is a live-action Grimm Fairytale."

  She let out a giggle and pressed the phone closer to her ear. "Mixed with the biggest heart on Pressler Street. She takes in anyone and makes them a little nest till they are healed enough to fly again. My sister and I only had Mom for most of our childhood." That was Maggie's dodge. Her way of slipping by the loss of her father.

  Jake made a small, "Uh huh," to let her know he was listening. She felt the familiar ache in her chest and her throat tighten at the thought of her loss, but for once she kept going, just a little.

  "Her best feature, hands down was her ability to make us believe in ourselves. We would tell her some weird idea we had come up with that afternoon and she would listen like we were about to do great things. It made us fearless. My big sister took it as permission to try everything. She wanted to make cherries jubilee when she was ten and I was just seven and Mom was all in." A thin stream of cool energy passed through her entire body, opening up the memories and easing the ache.

  "Please tell me at least your mother lit the flame," he said, laughing. "I already know the answer to this one."

  "You got it! Diana set it aflame and Mom didn't even hover. Didn't tell her to back up, or watch out. Truth is, Diana singed her eyebrows a little but the dessert was the best. I can still see the triumphant look on her face. Nothing has ever tasted sweeter to me. We could walk away from just about anything and feel like we had stood on top of the mountain. We had this constant feeling of, what's next?" Maggie felt the pulse of energy fade and saw her mother these days, late at night sipping her wine on the back porch alone. Her voice grew quiet. "We were the three Musketeers."

  Jake cleared his throat and stammered for a moment. "Your childhood was more colorful than mine," he finally said. "Mine was full of rules and expectations."

  "You don't talk about your family much. Are they originally from Austin?"

  "No, they're all from far away. Raucous bunch with plenty of opinions to go around that they say like they're facts. They tend to say something about everything. I kind of like you so I will introduce you to them all somewhere far, far into the future when you are too dazzled by me to run away."

  "I showed you mine. You will need to show me yours at some point."

  "Far into the future. I'm hoping for a few more dates. That's my awkward way of seeing if you're free for dinner tonight."

  "And to distract me from talking about your family."

  "You are a good detective. You saw right through me. Is it a date? I can pick you up."

  Maggie almost blurted out that she could drive herself. "Sure, that would be great. I can be ready by seven."

  "Seven it
is. Hey, got to go. Spill in aisle three. A manager's work is never done."

  Maggie hung up smiling and walked on into the house calling out, "Mom, are you here? I brought you chile cheese grits from Moonshine. Olly olly oxen free." Maggie shook the bag but the house was quiet.

  Jake hung up the phone, the strain showing on his face. He lifted his chin and gave a nod to his cousin, Fredo a full Kashgar gnome working behind the CVS pharmacy counter. Another distant cousin, Nancy was getting a mop for the soda that was quickly spreading down aisle three, threatening the display of neck pillows.

  He let out a frustrated sigh and headed toward the back to escape to his office for a few minutes. "Family," he grumbled. "I have enough for everyone."

  "Jake! Hang on, where you are headed so fast?"

  Jake felt his muscles tense and turned around to face his Uncle Drew who was tall like the average Kashgar, along with a full head of silver hair, slicked back in place. "What can I do for you? You need the afternoon off again? I'm a little shorthanded today. See if you can do a little work..."

  Uncle Drew was waving his hands and shaking his head. "No, no, no, I'm here for the duration this shift. May need a little lunch soon." He patted his ample belly. "The council asked me to check up on you. Mo wants an update. He's still a little ticked off at you from the last time. You know, that phone call." Uncle Drew turned his head to look at Jake from the side. "You aren't falling for this Peabrain, are you? This is your mother's fault. It's her Peabrain blood inside of you, confusing everything."

  Jake balled up his fist at his side but kept his breathing even. "You can let Mo know, I set up the date. Get back to work Uncle Drew. Those shelves won't stock themselves."

  "We're all counting on you. Word has gotten around about who she is." Uncle Drew stabbed a long, thick finger at Jake. "You remember who you are at the end of the day. The Kashgars raised you. You're one of us and for as long as any of us can remember, we've had one clear mission. Get this ship moving and deliver the goods. I don't get you! You could actually be a hero in this scenario and instead you thumb your nose at the council. Who does that?"

  "She's just one piece of the puzzle. Besides, how do we even know our old deal is still in place? It's been thousands of years. No one may be out there anymore."

  "They're there. Planets don't just disappear and the council has been listening for other ships passing by for a long time but there's been nothing. You know what that means?" Uncle Drew pursed his lips, licking a finger and pulled a bag of yogurt covered pretzels off the shelf, opening the bag.

  Jake watched him, making a mental note to add the pretzels to his uncle's long tab. "It means that I'm right. No one is out there anymore. We would be leaving the sun to go spinning off into blackness. That's coming off your pay."

  Uncle Drew pulled out a fist full, shoving them into his mouth, till his cheeks were full. "Whatever," he said, pieces sticking out between his teeth. He bit down, chewing away as he hummed.

  Jake covered his face with his hand. "At least close your mouth." He looked again and noticed the line building up at the front of the store. "Get back to work. Go help up front and leave that with me." He took the bag out of his uncle's hand.

  "You know you can't fire me. The council needs me to watch you." He pointed two fingers at his face and then at Jake.

  "You're basically a Lego piece, Uncle. They can remove you at any time and fit somebody else in here to do the same job without the new guy eating up the profits. Go or I text Mo myself and make the report and prove you're completely useless." Jake pulled out his phone

  Uncle Drew let out a grunt and sucked on a tooth, still eyeing Jake, even as he turned around and started walking away.

  Jake reluctantly put his phone back in his pocket and felt the weight of all the secrets he was keeping pushing down his shoulders. If I tell Maggie everything too soon, she leaves without knowing I'm on her side. If I tell the council anything I risk Maggie. That's definitely out. But I risk losing the only family I've ever known. He walked back to his office and sat in his chair, staring at the computer screen with the week's inventory and an excess of paper towels. It had to be his uncle's doing. He was selling merchandise out the back door again. Jake didn't care, at least not today. He had to make a decision. Am I a Kashgar or a Peabrain? Why can't I be both?

  He pounded on the desk with his fist. There has to be a way.

  Chapter Nine

  Maggie left the bag on the counter and walked out to her mother's expansive backyard. There was no sign of the dog, Oscar either and the long leather leash was missing from the iron hook in the shape of a twig with three birds sitting on top. The wall by the back door was covered in different hooks, all of them holding something but only a few were utilitarian. Most held ornaments Toni had found or a piece from a colorful scarf or even an old postcard someone sent with a picture of Port Arthur, attached with a small clothespin.

  Toni didn't believe in scrap books that were hidden away. She put all of her memories on display and rotated them out every few months. The only constant was the picture of Marcus Parker, Maggie's late father, as a young man in his late thirties, laughing while trying to hold up two little girls.

  Maggie lightly touched the curling picture with her fingers, doing her best to remember that day, but it had mostly faded. She let out a sigh and smiled. The wind picked up and suddenly blew her hair into her face, rattling the limbs of the weeping willow standing in a corner of her mother's yard. The long, flowing limbs were full of small bells and wind chimes separated by hundreds of ribbons tied around pieces of paper tied to each limb. It was Toni Parker's idea of a wishing tree.

  The tree rattled again, tinkling the bells as the long green tendrils beckoned to Maggie. She stepped off the back porch and slowly walked toward the tree, watching in amazement as the ends of the thin branches curled around her, pulling her in closer. The dense greenery parted as she got closer to the trunk, falling softly back into place behind her, concealing her from view. Maggie gingerly placed her hands against the old trunk and felt the surge of energy that was becoming familiar pass through her, coursing down through her feet and back into the Earth.

  She pressed her cheek against the trunk and closed her eyes, listening as all around her a bubble grew, encasing her and a hum of energy passed along the back of her neck. A vision of herself and Diana playing in the backyard appeared, blurry at first but quickly becoming sharper until Maggie felt she could walk right inside of it. She was watching it from the safety of where she stood, still covered in shadow by the weeping willow.

  "Girls! Time for dinner."

  Maggie felt the breath catch in her throat as she looked up at the back steps at her father, smiling broadly and clapping his hands. She stepped out from the tree, not completely sure the others wouldn't turn and see her. Energy ran lightly along the top of her skin, heightening her senses as she stared at her father, doing her best to remember every detail.

  Say something else, please.

  She knew it was only a memory being served up by the Earth's archives, responding to a need she had placed out into the universe without realizing she was doing it.

  "One more hour." A younger version of herself said confidently, sure that was a reasonable assertion. She watched Diana look from their father to her, waiting to see if maybe this would actually fly. The younger Maggie didn't even wait, running straight at her older self, ducking under the branches of the weeping willow behind where Maggie stood. The girl's hands were outstretched, playing along the bending branches as the child encircled the tree.

  Maggie turned back just in time to see her father jump lightly off the last two steps and run closer, smiling and passing within inches of her till he stood still right next to her. He was close enough to touch, if only he was real. Maggie felt her eyes fill with tears and had to blink several times to clear the image. She couldn't be sure how long it would last.

  "Say something," she whispered.

  He smiled, ducking his head to
catch a glimpse of the girl dancing around the tree. "Dinner won't wait an hour, little Peabrain."

  The memory of his voice washed over her even as she realized Marcus Parker was already letting the little girl in on the world of magic. "I forgot so much." She cautiously put out her hand and felt the sweater he was wearing rub against her fingers and brushed her hand against his cheek, the stubble scratching her skin. But the memory didn't react or turn to see who was standing there.

  There was a sudden pull in the core of her abdomen, yanking her back to reality. She heard the echo of Bernie's warning in her head not to get lost in the past but she resisted anyway.

  The tree interceded on her behalf and wrapped its branches around her, pulling her closer to the trunk till she gradually let go of the memory as it faded and the empty yard reappeared.

  She pressed her forehead against the rough bark, soaking up the bits and pieces, hoping she could remember them forever.

  A spark snapped and spit just underneath her head, jolting her backward with a sharp smack of pain on her skin. "What the hell was that?" She felt a shiver go down her spine and pressed her hands closer against the bark even as her forehead throbbed. The trees were sending out a wave of messages, back and forth trying to piece together a disturbance. There it was again. The same warning from the trees.

  "Who's in trouble? Can't you just give me a name?" But the rapid fire messages continued unabated without any clear description or even pinpointing a location. Maggie finally pulled her hands away and rubbed the small welt in the center of her forehead.

  A weariness came over her and she came out from under the branches, retracing the steps she had just seen her father take toward her, still doing her best to remember the sound of his voice. "Peabrain," she whispered, as she climbed the back steps and made her way upstairs. She fell asleep in her old bedroom, curled up on the white iron bed, her hands tucked underneath her head.