Bring on the Magic

Chapter 1

Magic is a Bunch of Baloney

I shouted at the flying meat slices and to the young couple cowering farther down the dairy aisle, Don’t let the baloney get close to you! It’s tainted meat! Tainted by magic, I thought.

This was not my first encounter with magic in a grocery store. Two weeks ago, there’d been banshees infesting a Whole Foods.

Today, I faced a much more absurd onslaught than a trio of shrieking freaks upending an expansive produce section. My attackers were magic-infested slices of baloney, airborne no less. What did I ever do to you, Oscar Meyer?

My aerial assailants threw everything at me, successfully knocking me into a refrigerated display rack and sending yogurt containers flying. Several burst open, spewing their contents all over my red windbreaker and my head as I struggled to catch my breath. I wiped a healthy amount of yogurt from my right ear and cheek as I scrambled out of the twisted wreckage.

To my left, Chuck now floated above the fray―hovering just inches from the signage that declared this the dairy section of the grocery store―his worn leather cover splatter-free, despite having been by my side in the yogurt splash zone only seconds before. The spellbook had a knack for emerging from combat no worse for wear.

The tome said, It’s really not all that difficult. We’ve subdued wild magic like this before. Why are you having such trouble?

The squadron of airborne luncheon meat flew up and away, preparing to divebomb me once again. While the magic-possessed meat couldn’t really cause me harm individually, hitting me all at once threatened to knock me silly. If they bombarded me just right, I might walk away with a few bruised or broken ribs.

I sucked in two quick breaths, embarrassed that the pesky baloney had knocked the wind out of me. This wasn’t that big of a leak. Why’d it affect so many?

Anything meat-based is easily overtaken, Chuck said.

Calling baloney a meat is a bit of a stretch.

Close to a thousand baloney slices wiggled about in the air, swarming so close to appear like one cohesive cloud of pink bland food stuff. Thankfully, the magic lacked intellect and was only going after me because of my detectable magic signature. Meat acting on instinct.

Two young girls in their twenties cowered behind the deli counter thirty feet to my right, pointing at me and the levitating baloney. Both held up their phones, videoing my little encounter. I’d have to wipe their devices and scrub their memories after. Heaven forbid I actually receive any attention or fame for my undertakings. Chuck wouldn’t stand for that.

The baloney swept toward me. I held up a hand, easily arranging my fingers in the correct configuration to unleash a dispersal blast. The minute I touched my pinkie to my thumb, green energy gathered in a ball, enveloping my outstretched hand. Really wish you’d show me more than just a couple hand spells. The magic expanded by a few inches and then shot at the rapidly approaching luncheon meat. It cleaved the cloud in two, sending several dozen slices to the ground. A few flopped about, but most went inert. Away from the main concentration of rogue magic, they could no longer stay animated.

One of the deli clerks, the cuter one with big blue eyes and strawberry-blond hair, crept out from behind the counter and moved closer to the fight.

I winked at her. Not smart. These things can really spank hard if you’re not careful. I pointed to the open meat packages scattered all over the floor. Quite a few had a slice or three within that hadn’t joined the baloney love-fest overhead. Don’t worry about them. Those’ll stay inert unless they get close to the main swarm up there. I really wish you’d run off, join your much smarter friend behind you.

I’ll take my chances. Not often you see a legit food fight. She kept her phone trained on the baloney. The meat byproducts were reconfiguring, stitching back together after losing a good quarter of their mass.

I spared a glance at her and her coworker. The one still safely huddled behind the deli counter was a nervous wreck. She no longer recorded me and waved frantically at her friend to rejoin her. That was the proper reaction.

The bold girl smirked. So what’s your plan? She waved at Chuck. Your little talking paperback gonna tell you how to handle this?

Ouch, what was with her? She should be freaking out, a blubbering mess at seeing magically possessed meat engaged in combat. Six months ago, that described my reaction to a tee. Then again, a half dozen golems determined to dole out mayhem on a clueless road crew had been much wilder than this.

I am leather-bound with an exquisite section-sewn spine, sister, and don’t you forget it. Chuck then slyly whispered for only me to hear, Which you will.

The baloney zoomed at me again. I didn’t have enough time to conjure another dispersal blast. I grabbed the metal shelf hanging in place by only a lone bracket and wrenched it free. I held it up like a baseball bat and leaned back, ignoring the yogurt that dripped from it.

The baloney flew at me. I swept the shelf around and swatted a good hundred pieces of it free. Half rejoined the wobbly mass and lurched back into the air.

The girl tucked her phone in her back pocket and used her feet to mash several slices on the ground that were struggling to rejoin their partners in crime. So what’s all this?

Knowing whatever I told her wasn’t going to stay in her head freed me to spout off with ease. I’m a world mage. Magic is leaking back into our world. This one is a smidgen of wild magic rather than any actual magical beings. It latches onto inanimate objects and possesses them. Thankfully, this isn’t a gun shop or archery center. I thought back to the last time I’d dealt with such magic. Rounding up magically augmented arrows while keeping a class of preteen archers safe had been a real struggle.

She wrinkled her nose. Really? You expect me to believe this is magic?

Chuck zipped down toward me. I snatched him from the air, and he opened. His pages flapped rapidly as if an invisible hand were thumbing through them, halting halfway at a section I knew well: containment.

The spellbook said, Don’t engage the locals, Randall. The longer you delay means more spectators to deal with.

I did a quick eyewitness count. The couple from earlier was long gone. So just two for a mind wipe. Chuck wouldn’t like that the others had gotten away. I hated the idea of having to do a large-scale amnesia spell but knew he would insist.

The girl glared at the book. "What’s he mean by deal with?"

I stabbed a finger at the spell and quickly traced the zigzag-intensive symbol taking up the bottom half of the page. After going over the lines twice, I snapped the book shut and traced the symbol in the air. Thin black lines appeared behind my finger as I kept my movements supertight. Nothing sinister. You can’t remember I’ve been here. I have to work in secret.

Her lips buckled. What good's throwing magic all about if you can’t get a little recognition for it? I mean, talk about instant popularity.

I nodded at her as I worked on moving my finger with careful precision. I know, right? But Chuck says that’s not to be.

A security guard appeared at the end of the aisle, staring in panic at the baloney that was once again determined to bombard me. Thankfully, he wasn’t armed. He clutched a phone and shouted frantically into it.

I couldn’t hear him as I finished my air etching. The lines of the symbols now glowed purple only inches in front of my face. They flickered, dimming twice before flaring and giving off an almost blinding intensity. I looked over at the girl as I shielded my eyes from what was about to happen next.

I shouted loud enough for even the security guard to hear, Eyes shut everyone, unless you want to experience some temporary blindness and a terrible headache!

Regrettably, the front end of the baloney swarm smacked into my chest, pummeling me with several dozen high-speed slices. Yep, definitely glad these aren’t arrows. Being a pincushion once is enough for me.

Chuck groaned. Incompetent fool! You weren’t careful enough in your rendering.

The sigil fizzled out. I had gotten some aspect of it wrong and was paying the price.

The baloney continued driving into me, sending me to the ground. I tore at random slices, flinging them away, but there were too many. The baloney fell on my upper half, covering first my chest and arms and then starting in on my face.

Chuck, do something! I shrieked a split second before four pieces of baloney squirmed into my mouth. I gagged and watched numerous slices cover my eyes.

A truly awful way to go, I thought as the meat forced its way down my throat.

I tensed, and then everything went black.

****

I awoke and lurched forward. A band across my chest held me in check as I took in several quick breaths. I was riding in my pick-up, the seat belt doing its job as safety restrainer. Thank goodness as I might have smacked my head into the dash with the way I’d flung myself forward.

Chuck hopped onto the dash and wagged the upper corner of his cover at me in a scolding fashion I’d seen quite often in my first few weeks with him.

The brash girl from the grocery store drove. She winked at me and patted my shoulder. About time you woke up, sleepyhead.

I shot Chuck a look. What happened? What’s she doing with us?

The spellbook stood and bowed toward her. Relax. Needed a warm body to get you out of there.

This is absurd. I can’t believe any of this, the girl said as she took a right on Blecker Street, just two turns away from home.

How’d she know where to go? I spied her cell phone situated on the middle section of the front seat and registered the next verbal direction from it. In two miles, take a slight right onto Hambrook Avenue.

She’s taking us to the lair? I blurted out.

She frowned and shook her head. That’s what you call your base of operations? Terrible name. Makes you sound like a villain. Don’t tell me I’m chillin’ with one. Really ought to think about your brand.

Chuck said, Relax, we required her assistance. We’ll sort things out soon enough.

You mean you’ll give me a case of amnesia. I’m no dummy. I know you don’t intend to let me keep my memories of all this.

I didn’t respond. She was right. No way would Chuck let me have an accomplice. Everyone had to be oblivious to the magic returning to the world. It was for the greater good. Eventually, I said, What happened? Why didn’t the sigil I drew contain them? Last thing I recall was the baloney choking me.

You must’ve executed it a little sloppy. What have I said about getting those curlicues just right? I know serifs are your downfall, but I thought we were past that, Chuck said. Mel here jumped in and tried to tear the baloney away from your face. Really gave her all to the endeavor.

Mel slouched and grinned sheepishly. Sorry about the scratch.

That triggered awareness of my injury. I touched my left cheek, running my fingers up and down the raised length of the scratch. A simple healing spell would ensure it wouldn’t leave a scar.

The spellbook continued, I knew she’d never make headway, so I had her redraw the sigil.

Wait, what? No, that’s wrong. No way she’d come close to getting it right. I knew I was being defensive. After all, I’d somehow been sloppy enough in my tracing of the symbol to not have the spell take. Surely some random girl wouldn’t be able to do it on the first try.

I didn’t the first three times, but luckily the baloney was busy trying to smother you, so I had some time. Not a whole heck of a lot if I wanted to keep you alive, of course.

So the fourth time? I asked. I hated the reminder that I’d almost been suffocated by luncheon meat.

Worked like a charm, she said.

I wanted to dispute her comparison―charms were more for luck, warding off spirits, and even enhancing one’s appearance, not imprisoning wild magic―but I kept my trap shut.

It was crazy. The sigil exploded, and all the green magic gathered together to form an iron maiden. You know what that is, right?

I nodded.

It opened up and sucked the magic out of the baloney inside. The iron maiden slammed shut and then shrunk down to a more portable size. I did that. She held out a miniature copper iron maiden.

The torture device was no longer than a pinkie and glowed faintly. I admired the little details on it: the face downturned in agony with its mouth sagging open and the chainmail adorning the body of the resting maiden atop the main bulk of the mini-casket. I had to admit it was impressive. The sigil assumed the shape of the prison the evoker envisioned. My containment receptacles had consisted of a bird cage, a large safe, and a salt shaker, the last one my first embarrassing attempt to secure an ice gremlin. The less said about that sad undertaking, the better.

Nice work, I said.

And then Chuck let me read out the amnesia spell. She clutched at her forehead. He didn’t tell me that one leaves you with a killer headache. She glared at the spellbook as she nudged the steering enough to cause the book to wobble and almost slide off the dash.

Wait, how is that possible? I wagged a finger at the spellbook. You said I was the world mage.

Chuck said, You are. Mel is just one of a few who has a spark of magic in them. It also gives her a little aptitude. Don’t worry, nothing close to the magnitude you display.

Mel harrumphed and eased to a stop at the stop sign. She looked over at me and smiled. And you’re going to love this. Tell him, Chuck.

She took a right onto Hambrook Avenue, flashing her high-beams at an oncoming car that still had its headlights on high.

What?

Chuck said, Well, she executed two spells, both from me. That kind of means we can’t make her forget through magical means.

Mel said, And don’t think bonking me on the head to erase my memories is the way to go either. Face it, you’re stuck with me. We’re in cahoots, boys. She squinted at the spellbook. I mean, you are a boy. Chuck has to be a guy’s name, right?

The spellbook didn’t answer.

I rolled my eyes and stroked the cut on my cheek. Just lovely.

Chapter 2

Membership is Exclusive

I closed the security gate behind us and waited for Mel’s reaction to my second home. She stepped out of the truck and stood there, soaking up the buildings.

My lair was an abandoned factory. The main building was three stories tall and one big rectangle except for the two blocky turrets situated at each of the front corners. A row of windows, most missing their panes, were situated closer to the roof, perfect for keeping anyone not twenty feet tall from looking in. Large panels of corrugated metal sheets made up the exterior, quite a few showing signs of corrosion.

Two lesser buildings, more like sheds or small hangers, sat to the right of the main warehouse with a gravel parking lot wedged in between them.

Hey, this place is Lucky Spoon Creamery. She pointed at the faded company logo of a two-scoop cone emblazoned across the front of the left turret just below a row of intact windows. They went out of business a long time ago. I think my grandfather worked here back in their heyday.

Well, it’s my home now. I took the keys out of the ignition and flicked off the headlights.

Aren’t you breaking the law? I mean, there’s a sign right across the front gate. She pointed to the No Trespassing sign that took up the upper half of the chain-link gate. Haven’t the police caught you here?

I held up Chuck. A simple incognito spell draped over the area keeps everyone out. They just see a derelict property.

And we attached a curiosity suppressor to it as well, Chuck boasted.

Mel walked down the slight incline toward the main doors to the factory. Why can I see it?

Because of your affinity to magic and being with us, Chuck said.

She didn’t look back. Cool.

Um, we really haven’t officially introduced ourselves. I raced to catch up, extending my hand as I drew up beside her. I’m Randall Flood.

She executed an about face and shook my hand. She pulled free and resumed walking toward the double doors. Know all about you already. Chuck spilled the beans while you were snoozing the night away. You’re twenty and live on your own in a small apartment, not that you spend much time there anymore because you have your ‘lair’ to lounge around in. You work part-time at a book store downtown and really keep to yourself.

Ummm . . .

She grinned. Relax, it’s okay. I feel you. I know what you’ve been through. I’ve always felt like something was missing from my life, that there was some big destiny ahead for me. Bet that’s what ran through your head when Chuck invited you to be the next world mage."

Not exactly. I’d pretty much been a denier. Why did she accept all this so easily? I didn’t quite get her.

She stopped in front of the doors and put her hands on her hips. You know, it wouldn’t kill you to ask about me, take an interest.

Um, okay. Tell me all about yourself.

She yanked open the right door and stepped inside. Melanie Graves. Everyone calls me Mel. I work in sales at a biotech company by day, and I’m a deli clerk a few nights a week. Just celebrated my twenty-second birthday about a month ago. Feeling a little aimless. Not really on the hunt for a boyfriend, and I’m not sure what I want to do with the rest of my life but have to admit that having a little magic stick its nose into my world is awesome.

The main floor of the warehouse was concrete, which created some pretty bad echoes. A handful of conveyor belts and a few of the large vats still stood. Not many, though, as most of the inner workings of the business had been sold off and carted away to other ice cream factories I assumed.

Not very hospitable digs, she said.

I don’t need much room. Took over a couple offices in the left turret. I walked toward a set of metal stairs to our left.

She darted ahead of me. Then how about a quick tour and something to eat?

After again racing to keep up with her, we found ourselves three flights up and waiting outside a red door. Mel grabbed the handle.

It bothered me that she seemed to be taking the lead. I was in charge here. I put a hand out to prevent her from opening the door and gaining access to my lair. Hold on! You don’t belong here. I don’t care if we can’t wipe your mind, all this isn’t for you.

Why not? Chuck said I have a little magical spark in me. Who’s to say I’m not supposed to be here? I could be your apprentice or assistant or something. She grimaced. Just don’t ask me to run errands.

I needed to talk with the spellbook and clear things up. No way Chuck wanted this. I was sure he found Mel’s ramblings and zippy demeanor annoying. I’d been around him long enough to know he was not a fan of pep. Something didn’t add up. Why would her using the spellbook hamper any kind of amnesia spell I threw at her? Had the spellbook said that to prank me? Wouldn’t put it past him.

Look, this isn’t a joke. Magic is seeping back into the world, and what we do isn’t a piece of cake. There’s real danger. I don’t want you to get hurt.

Hey, I can take care of myself as tonight demonstrated. You, however, need backup, someone to dart in and help you when things go wrong.

Without thinking, I arranged my fingers to conjure up a simple concussive blast. The gestural spell produced small red rings of magic around my wrists. At the same time, I detected the red glow emitting from my eyes and tingeing everything I saw in crimson.

Mel jumped back, pulling her hand from the door. Hey, easy does it. Not sure what you’re doing, but red’s not your color. Calm down.

I splayed my fingers, disrupting the spell. The magic dispersed, and my vision reverted to normal. Go sit on the couch and wait for us. Chuck and I need to talk. After, we’ll get you back to your car. You left it at the grocery store, right?

She nodded slowly.

I hated to admit that I liked seeing her at a loss for words and downright squirmy. She drew her arms across her chest in a protective fashion.

I pulled open the door, and we entered, Mel bringing up the rear. I flicked on the overhead lights and closed the door behind us.

My lair was three converted cubicle offices. Thanks to magic, I’d reshaped the chest-high partitions that had originally delineated one office from the other to form one main wall with a lone door leading to my bedroom and a bathroom. The layout was an open floor plan with a kitchen looking into a small living room. Two recliners and a chair pointed toward a flat screen with a coffee table nestled