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

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The Gnome’s Magic: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure (The Adventures of Maggie Parker Book 2) Page 9

by Martha Carr


  She felt a cool ribbon of energy pass easily through her mind and felt herself relax into it. This is easy. She looked up at the sky and a glancing thought ran through her mind. Looks like rain.

  Her hand warmed as a bubble appeared, growing in size and a murky picture struggled to come into shape, finally clearing as the bubble popped and a pair of pants dropped across her arms. Maggie stared at them, trying to wrap her mind around the shiny dark blue rain pants. "My favorite pants from the seventh grade," she said, in awe, holding them up for a better look. "Okay, this is a good learning opportunity. Be more specific and then let it go faster. Not sure I'm ever going to get this. A corgi and now these." She looked at them from every angle, listening to them swish. "Slim would have loved these."

  Maggie looked down at the pants she was wearing and smelled the warming fragrance of fish as the pants dried against her skin. "This is going to be a long day." She opened the passenger side door and removed her holster. She sat down with her feet on the ground, easily slipping out of the wet pants, and slid into the waterproof pants with a loud swish, swish. She had to lean back across the seat to zip them up. "They fit!" she said, relieved, relaxing back against the seat and looking up at the roof of the car.

  "Ms. Parker, you okay?" Joey stood near the door, the scrub brush in his hand, peering over at the car.

  Maggie popped up and got out of the car, quickly throwing the discarded pants in the truck bed and doing her best to look confident in the loud pants. "I'm good, thanks Joey." She scooped up her to-go cup and got in, ignoring the sound of her thighs rubbing together in the pants. She started up the car without waiting for a reply, giving a quick wave as she backed out of the parking space. Joey stood there, his mouth open, still holding up the scrub brush as he watched her drive away.

  Maggie looked at him in the rear view mirror and took a large swallow of coffee. "Damn, this is good coffee. May need to find a new favorite place, even if there was a little incident."

  Maggie parked the car at the station and swallowed the last of the coffee in one long gulp, feeling the hot liquid pass down her throat. She wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her jacket and got out of the car, walking slowly toward the building. She paused at the door and looked at her reflection, her hands on her hips and looked up at the darkening sky. "This might work."

  She went inside and made her way down the hall, doing her best to minimize the noise while sliding past the break room as fast as possible. She walked past Taylor who was bent over his keyboard typing away and slid into her seat, grateful to finally stop moving.

  Taylor looked up over his reading glasses and stared at her. He leaned out from his desk and took another look at the pants, sitting back and crossing his arms over his chest. "What's with the rain gear, Parker? Are we going to be knee deep in something today? A little heads up for your partner would be nice." He leaned forward and whispered. "I heard about the incident over on South Congress and a whole neighborhood hallucinating together. I don't suppose you know anything about that?"

  Maggie opened her mouth to say something just as the desk Sergeant came around the corner closely followed by Jake. Maggie stood up suddenly in her chair, the sound of her pants against the chair startling the Sergeant who stopped walking for a moment, his brows knit together. He peered at Maggie but seemed to drop it as he stepped aside. "Someone here to see you?" It came out like a question. In all the years Maggie had worked there the only other visitor had been her mother and it was just the one time.

  "Yeah, a long day," she muttered under her breath. She tried smiling and stood perfectly still, doing her best to minimize any motion.

  Jake stepped around the Sergeant and came over to her desk putting down a large neon green lunch box. "I thought I'd surprise you." He glanced nervously around the room. O'Malley glanced up but went back to what he was doing. "That's okay, right?"

  "It's more of a comment on my lack of dating. They're wondering who finally made it past the third date. That's the one that's key." She smiled, shifting her weight as the pants rustled.

  Jake's eyebrows went up and he smiled, moving the lunch box closer to her. "I brought lunch. Don't worry, it's not from the CVS food aisle. Meatloaf sandwich from 24Diner and a side of no-bean chili."

  "Oooh, I love that place and Texas chili." She looked down at her watch. "You're a little early."

  "I can come back later," he said, reaching for the green square bag.

  "Oh no, meatloaf is perfect for reheating." She gave him a crooked smile but caught sight of O'Malley arching an eyebrow at her as her pants swished. She felt her face warm and cleared her throat, tapping on the lunch box.

  Moss walked out of the break room balancing a glazed donut on top of his coffee mug, whistling as he headed to his desk. "What's up with you two glum faces?" He set the mug down and picked up the donut. "The best. It steams the donut for me." He licked his fingers and sat down heavily at his desk. "Hey, did you hear about the heart attack over on 46th in Hyde Park? I think the guy who owns the shop is some old friend of yours, Parker. Don't worry, it was the girlfriend. A Lucinda Moore, I think." He scrolled through his notes. "Carl Hopkins is the guy. I've heard you talk about him. The detectives are looking for him." He pointed with a sticky finger down a hallway. "Nice looking lady, too. What?" He ignored the glare from Taylor and took another bite of his donut, talking and chewing at the same time. "Some things aren't quite adding up, I here. Customers said they saw them together, then poof. The lady is dead and the boyfriend is gone. I don't know. Boy, is that good." He licked his fingers one at a time and picked up his mug for a sip, swishing the coffee around in his mouth.

  Maggie looked up at Jake as she grabbed her coat.

  "Go, go, you can tell me about it later. I get it, it's a friend of yours." There was concern in his voice as he briefly grabbed her arm. "Go." He leaned in and whispered, "I'll be here for you later if you want to talk. You can tell me about those pants, too."

  "Thank you," she whispered. He can't be a tall bastard. She was already out of her chair, ignoring the loud swish of her pants and headed for the door. Taylor rolled his eyes at Moss and grabbed his jacket, following behind Maggie who was running down the hallway. She got to the door and pulled it open, taking the few steps a few at a time.

  Taylor caught the door and ran after her. "Hey, I'm coming with you and no arguments. We're a team and that's how this is done, which you used to know till a few days ago. Weird little friends or not, we work better together." He got into the El Camino without another word and took a whiff of the stale air inside of the car. "What happened here?" he asked, unrolling the window. "I take it the part about fish running around was accurate?" He gave her a sidelong glance. "That explains the pants."

  "Don't throw shade at me. I didn't cause this one and before you ask, neither did Bernie," she said, turning onto the street and flashing the lights for a moment to clear a path into the far lane. "Strange things are happening and most of it is out of my control."

  "Most of it?"

  "There was a corgi incident that I take responsibility for..." She waved her hand to cut him off. "...but the rest is up for grabs. Some of it is the Earth hiccupping, maybe. It doesn't matter. What matters is that Carl Hopkins was my dad's oldest friend and is like a kind of uncle to me. There's no way he would leave Lucinda lying on the floor and run out." She could feel her heart pounding in her chest.

  "You think someone took him. Why would they do that?"

  Maggie lightly touched the welt on her forehead. "I'm not sure I can answer that one yet, but we're going to find out."

  Chapter Twelve

  The shop had a closed sign in the front window as Maggie went up and rattled the locked front door. She pressed her face against the window and saw that everything in the front of the shop was quiet. There was nothing out of place. She recognized the stacks of brass boxes on a nearby table and a collection of old horseshoes she had played with as a child. I should have visited more often.

 
Taylor went up beside her and took a look. "Doesn't look like anyone broke in."

  "This time of day they wouldn't need to. The shop would have been open." She went down the side of the yellow wooden building and around to the back, scanning in every direction for anything out of place. There was nothing. No sign that anyone had been in distress. She found the fake rock, the third on the right and picked it up, retrieving the key inside of it.

  "Not the best security system," said Taylor, his hand on his gun as Maggie unlocked the door.

  "Carl trusted everyone and gave them the benefit of the doubt. That's why I know something is wrong. He would never have run out." She turned the handle and walked in slowly as a chill went down her spine. The scent of lavender still hung in the air. "No... Simon was here." She ran her hand over a framed map of Austin dating from the early 1900's and saw an old metal and canvas baby carriage with oversized wheels. There were so many memories of her childhood spread around the room.

  Taylor turned around in a circle looking for the clue that had tipped off Maggie. "What makes you say that? I don't see anything."

  "The smell, it's Simon Wesley. It's the same thing he tried with Kathleen. He needed bait to pull me in closer."

  "If Simon did this, he has lost whatever loose grip he ever had on sanity."

  "We have to find Carl." Maggie clenched her teeth and scanned every surface, hunting for a further clue, lifting up everything. Taylor joined her without another word, relying on their basic training. They walked slowly around the room as Taylor looked up toward the ceiling and Maggie knelt down, feeling under the furniture lined up against the wall. "There's nothing," she said, rocking back on her heels. "I was so sure we'd find something." She looked up at Taylor. "He used to tell me stories when I was younger. I thought they were some kind of fairytale," she said with a shrug, "but now I don't know. He was always talking to me about symbols."

  Taylor went to pat Maggie on her shoulder and kicked a shard of the teacup that was missed by the detectives. It rolled under the dresser and out of sight. Maggie leaned down and shined her small flashlight. "Hey, wait, there's something under here." She stood up and got on one side of the dresser. "Help me move this thing. Careful, I don't want to disturb the dirt underneath it."

  Taylor opened the top drawer to get a better grip and helped her move it to the side. Underneath was a crudely drawn compass rose with only five arms. "I've seen that before." She knelt down by the clue and looked at it more closely. "That's the same symbol that was carved into the puzzle box. Why would he leave that?"

  "Where's the puzzle box now?"

  "Still sitting in the garage, I hope."

  "Then, that's our next stop."

  Maggie grabbed his arm and stopped him. The smell of lavender was still clinging to everything. "We have to get him back safely."

  "Let's get going," he said. "If what Simon wants is you, then he's not going to hurt Carl Hopkins." He snorted in frustration. "Let's try not to play things his way, though. You're saying that magic is real, then let's get that little friend of yours to show us how we can use it." He held up his hands. "I don't get any of this and if I suddenly wake up in a nice hospital room and find out I was out this whole time, I won't be entirely surprised. But until that happens, I'm in this with you and it chaps my hide that someone we worked with has gone rogue. Let's get the weedy little rat bastard."

  Chapter Thirteen

  Maggie pulled the El Camino into the alley and parked by the garage, blocking the narrow dirt road between the houses. Taylor opened the door and had to squeeze sideways, sucking in his gut to get out. "Really need to cut back on two lunch days," he said, grunting. Maggie found the fake rock with a key inside by the garage door and quickly got it out, opening the door and stepping inside.

  The chickens sent up a chorus of squawking and ran to one end to see if Maggie would reappear with their feed. That was quickly replaced by a small, brown corgi running down the back steps of her porch, barking and squeaking as the chickens flapped their wings and retreated to the coop, still squawking, but this time at the dog.

  Taylor stood by the gate watching the dog zigzag across the backyard. "You got a dog. A boyfriend drops off lunch and now you have a dog. Why does all of this surprise me more than finding out magic is real?"

  "Get in here Taylor."

  Taylor pulled himself away from watching the dog try to squeeze himself into a small knot at the bottom of the largest tree and went inside the garage. "What's up with your dog?"

  Maggie looked up, puzzled as Dexter let out a loud squeak and a bark outside. "He's a new kind of breed. A mouser."

  "He catches mice, I like that."

  "Not catches as much as makes friends with them, they could be his family. Let it go. We need to figure out the clue." Maggie carefully got down the old metal tool box that had belonged to Poppy and put it on her work table, flipping the metal latches and opening it up. She felt relief flood her body as she gripped the table. The puzzle box was still inside. She gingerly picked it up, half expecting something else to happen but the different sides of the box still lay open like petals, just as they had since offering up the compass that had lain inside.

  Maggie emptied her mind, searching for the feeling of a cool thread of magic or the hum against the back of her neck, activating the peabrain, but there was nothing. Disappointed, she carefully turned it over and looked at the other side, gently folding the petals back in toward themselves. As she did, the carved etchings fell into place in a new shape, forming a pattern she had never seen on the box.

  Taylor looked over her shoulder at the box. "How did you do that?"

  "I don't think I'm the one who did that. Does any of that look familiar to you?"

  Taylor held out his palms and Maggie put the box carefully in the center of his hands. As soon as she let go the sides collapsed and the box fell apart once again. "I don't think it likes me." He handed it back to Maggie and she watched, curious, as the box gently folded into yet another shape and the carvings took on different shapes.

  "I am sorry to say that my high school Latin teacher is about to have the last laugh," said Taylor. "He kept saying we'd find a use some day for that dead language." Taylor put out a wide finger to touch the carving but thought better of it. "That part right there, ibi plures tutores, reads 'there is more than one guardian', I think. Might mean, guide. I'm sorry, I was in Latin in the first place to get near Amanda Bailey. That part didn't work out either."

  Maggie glanced at him sideways. "I think I get how this works. It wasn't just the compass, the box is a relic too." She gently pulled on the different sides and they fell back, coming together again to form a new phrase. "Quid enim tuum non ex vobis."

  "What is yours cannot be taken from you. Maybe that's the compass."

  "Let's hope so." She shook her head. "I still don't get what it's telling me." She let the sides fold down again and she gently pressed them back into a new shape.

  "Esse tractabamus ambitum rei in animam viventem," she read.

  "Not a bad pronunciation. I half expected one of us to change into something."

  Maggie startled and looked harder at Taylor.

  "What, is that a real thing? Can you do that?" He quickly patted himself down. "No, all the fat is still here. If you have to make changes to the original, try and make me into a younger, slimmer version of myself."

  "What does this mean? I have no idea if it'll hold this shape for very long and we still need to locate Carl. This was the only clue he left."

  "I think that tractabamus is compass, I'm not sure. Hey, that wasn't a word that came up too often and it was a long time ago. Okay, let me take another look. The compass... it's a living thing. Close enough translation."

  Maggie didn't hear the knight quietly appear in the doorway of the garage. "It means the compass holds tremendous power inside of it."

  Taylor staggered back a step, his gun already drawn. "Who the hell are you, big fellah?" He looked at Maggie who was holding up
the box for Wilmark to take a closer look. "You know him! There's an even bigger cast of characters straight out of Lord of the Rings."

  Wilmark bent over the box, looking at the symbols. "Not a bad comparison, but instead of a ring, it's a compass that will connect everything." Wilmark had a sword hanging by his side and his bow was laced to his back.

  "Are you expecting trouble?" asked Maggie. Taylor's eyes grew wider and he went to the small, dirty window in the garage and looked out into the alley.

  "You are the Elemental and too many people already know your identity. Trouble is going to be following you. Bernie and the mechanics can only do so much."

  Maggie looked at Taylor. "What is Bernie doing?" She put the box down on the nearby work table.

  "He's doing his job protecting this ship and looking after you." Wilmark shook his head. "This is his birthright. You can't protect Bernie. It doesn't work that way."

  "What's an Elemental," asked Taylor, "and exactly who is after you? How much more is there to this story?"

  Maggie let out a deep sigh. "More than I even get, just yet." She put her hands on her hips and stood up straighter, her fingers grazing across her gun out of habit. "Look, I'll tell you the basics, but you have to keep an open mind."

  "I handled the little mouse guy talking pretty well," he said, his head bobbing. "Give me some credit."

  Maggie tilted her head to the side. "Fair enough."

  Wilmark let out a grunt and rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. Taylor tapped his fingers on the top of his gun.

  "We're all on the same side," said Maggie. "I can see the slow approach isn't working. Fine, the Earth is really an oversized organic ship and everything on it was a passenger or cargo trying to get from one place to another. Apparently the Milky Way is like the beltway of the galaxy. Nobody is supposed to stop here."

 

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