The Last Wizard: Guardians of Ravætta, #1

By Rain Oxford

What does a problem solver do when some wrong turns in his life land him at rock bottom and he needs a hard reboot? When Dean Valentine (Val) receives a sentient grimoire, he believes he has found his solution in magic.

 

Val is ready to begin a new life on Ravætta as a wizard, but soon learns that magic comes at a price. Wizards are being killed, and it is up to him to save everyone. Unfortunately, not everyone wants magic to be saved. As word spreads of his arrival, enemies crop up all around him: thieves, assassins, monsters, and even gods.

 

To prove himself to be the hero that Ravætta needs, Val must master magic, uncover secrets, and defeat enemies before time runs out. It is not just his own life on the line.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rain Oxford
• Release date: Apr 15, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215602782

Rain Oxford

Rain Oxford is a retired teacher who has been writing stories since she was twelve. She attended Ritsumeikan University in Kyoto, Japan. Some of her interests include magic, psychology, and ancient history. She has four children: a Maltese, a Chihuahua, a Great Pyrenees puppy, and a Golden Retriever puppy. The only thing missing in her family is a dragon. When she’s not creating worlds, she enjoys reading, playing the piano, or photographing exotic wildlife.

Book preview

Prologue

Kazuto was a young child when he dreamed of death. Not his own, but the death of magic itself. His world was sustained by magic, so as it died, the world unraveled.

In his dream, he stood on a balcony overlooking the bountiful lands of his home. He watched the sun rise, flowers bloom, rivers flow, and dragons fly gracefully through the sky.

Kazuto saw life pulsing through the land. To the east was the largest city of Skaparibiǫð. Homes were built into the sides of tall mountains with glittering decks for the dragons to land on. Aside from natural stone in the mountains, crystal was the primary building material, with gold and iridescent gems as accents.

The sun glided across the sky ominously. When the sky darkened and then turned red, Kazuto shuddered. The dragons disappeared one-by-one. Then the color drained from the trees, the rivers dried up, and fires scorched the city.

Kazuto could only watch as the home he was born in crumbled beneath him. Then, he felt the presence of a powerful creature of magic and turned to see his friend and mentor.

The dragon was one of the largest alive; his head was the size of Kazuto. His golden eyes glowed like fire. His scales were black with a blue shimmer in the sunlight, and there were gray scars across his chest. One of the six backward-facing horns on his head was broken. Spikes ran down his spine to the end of his tail. His massive wings were tattered, reflecting the many battles he had been in during his youth and the many lessons he had learned.

What is this, Brenönd?

You are witnessing the death of magic, the dragon answered. First, my kind will die out. Soon, wizards will follow. Then the gods will go to war, and they will fall. Finally, the lands will sink into the ocean, and the skies will burn. When the last wizard is dead, there will be no hope for our world.

How can we stop it?

"We cannot. Only a wizard can save magic."

Chapter 1

I clicked Enter and leaned back in my chair with a groan. My back popped loudly as my seat creaked. I needed a scalding shower and a month of sleep... and a new job.

I was the sole paralegal, assistant, and secretary at a law firm with three lawyers. My duties included editing and proofing contracts, deciphering and computing client information, scheduling, fact-checking, and talking clients down from the ledge who wanted to speak to their attorney at ridiculous hours. In addition, my unofficial duties included making coffee, babysitting, and putting out fires.

The position initially required three people, and to save cost, they only hired two paralegals. Then my coworker decided he couldn’t handle the work and quit, leaving me to do the work of more than three people.

I was good at it, but it was driving me insane. I had a Bachelor’s degree in Business Administration and an Associate’s degree in Legal Studies. I went with the safe choice, which I regretted. It wasn’t a terrible career, but it wasn’t my passion. I wanted to do something inventive. I loved creating things, solving problems, and fixing broken things, whether it was technology, cars, or furniture. My favorite was when something engaged my hands and mind. My diverse interests were the main reason I had trouble in university.

Having a midlife crisis at twenty-three must have been a record. I should have chosen a career that paid better, like fast food.

Quit slacking off, Valentine! A five-inch-thick notebook slammed down on my desk in front of me, causing my metal file organizer to fall and scatter my carefully arranged papers. I scowled at it as if it had purposely failed me.

My boss invaded my personal space, glaring down at me. Sherry Anderson was platinum blond with cornflower-blue eyes, puffy pink lips, and a perfect hourglass figure. The plunging neckline of her red satin blouse drew attention to her best features, while her black skirt was so tight I could tell what kind of panties she was or wasn’t wearing. She was gorgeous, but her constant anger and immature hissy fits were impossible to overlook.

I’m not slacking off, I said. I just finished my work for the day. I worked for ten hours straight because the reports had to be in the computer by midnight, and she’d sprang them on me the previous night.

No, you’re not. These are due by closing time tomorrow.

I have to meet Rose at one tomorrow for lunch.

Then you’d better have it done by then. It was customary for her to pile work on me at the last minute. In fact, I suspected she did it on purpose. Fortunately, Mr. Anderson and Mr. Russell were easier to work for, but they still overloaded me with grunt work.

That’s a week’s worth of work. Why don’t you get your flying monkeys to do it? Oh, right, that’s what you’re doing now. Why the rush?

The clients called today, asking about it.

How long have you had it?

Three weeks or so.

I took a deep breath and held my tongue. Her father and husband were also partners at the firm, and I was certain that it was only due to them that she had this job, because I couldn’t imagine anyone hiring her on her own merit. She couldn’t keep decent records to save her life, her knowledge of the law was rudimentary at best, and she was constantly giving clients the wrong information rather than doing simple research.

Nevertheless, she was my boss-hole, and I did not want to deal with another screaming fit.

Don’t give me that face! she barked.

Unfortunately, when I wasn’t being a goof, I usually appeared cold and apathetic. Men never had a problem with it, but women said it was unsettling. I’ve told you, this is my only face.

I don’t like it!

Okay, okay. I bought another one. I thought of you when I saw it. I opened my drawer and pulled out a rubber clown mask.

Mrs. Anderson blanched and jumped back. Put that away and get to work, or I’ll fire you!

Oh, no! I said with exaggerated horror. Not my minimum-pay, maximum-stress job! How would you find someone stupid enough to replace me?

There’s no one as stupid as you, she snapped.

That’s too bad. Then you’ll have no luck finding someone else to work for you.

* * *

It was well after midnight when I finally got out and walked home. I owned a car, but my mother was borrowing it indefinitely. I lived in a mid-sized city. There was crime, but not as much as in larger cities. Rose wanted to move to a real city after we married. Since it meant getting away from my manipulative mother and Rose’s overbearing father, I was willing.

It was windy and humid, making me feel suffocated in my business shirt. Thunder rippled through the night. Awesome. Rain is exactly what I need.

I was halfway home when I heard whispers. A chill ran down my spine, because it wasn’t coming from a specific direction; it sounded like it surrounded me. This was immediately followed by a wooziness, which reminded me that all I had to eat all day was a candy bar. I pressed my forehead against the cool glass of the window to my right. After a few minutes, when my nausea faded, I stepped back and got a look at the store I’d been leaning on. It was a used book shop.

Thoughts of a better future ran through my mind. How much better would it be to work at a quaint place like this? Sure, the pay wouldn’t be as good, but it had to be more enjoyable. Anything had to be better than the job I was at. But, of course, that could have been exhaustion speaking. I loved fantasy as a child. I loved the idea of magic and monsters. Unfortunately, I hadn’t had the time to pick up a book for enjoyment since I graduated.

I noticed the open sign and wondered if it was a mistake. Surely a bookstore couldn’t get enough business at this time of night to keep them open. I was tempted to get a book, but I needed sleep and had a tendency to binge-read.

A few drops of rain fell, making the decision easy for me. I only got to the end of the block before the sky opened up and rain poured down. I was instantly soaked. It was rare that we had such sudden and severe onslaughts of rain. Fortunately, such storms rarely lasted long. It’ll last just long enough to get home. The warm water made me feel like I got out of the shower and threw on clothes wet.

I ran back to the bookshop. There was an awning, but the heavy wind blew rain at an angle. I pulled on the door and was surprised when it opened. I rushed inside. As soon as the door closed behind me, the whispers stopped, further convincing me that I had simply been on the creepy end of some pipe or vent.

The familiar scent of old books greeted me at the door like a childhood friend. My classmates liked to skip class and play sports. I had been the kid who skipped sports to hang out in the library. No one dared to tease me about it because while I wasn’t into team sports like football, I never missed a day of Krav Maga.

I was surprised by how many books fit into the tiny space. Four bookshelves on each side of the door made a walkway to the glass counter against the far wall. The glass case contained ancient books, special editions, and strange occult items. There were more bookshelves and aisles beyond the four to the right of the door. Every single shelf was crammed with books. The only light came from lit candles, suggesting that the shop had lost power, yet the air was cool and dry instead of hot and humid, which could only mean the air conditioners were working.

Hello? I called, approaching the counter. I didn’t see anyone. Sorry if it’s late, but the door was unlocked and your sign said you were open!

You’re not too late, a voice said right behind me. I jumped and spun, instinctively taking a defensive pose. Fortunately, the woman was five feet away instead of inches like she had sounded.

I figured she was about my age and had long, straight, raven-black hair with emerald-green eyes. Her skin was fair and flawless, and her facial structure suggested a Japanese ancestor. She wore a black crop top with gold symbols, which I couldn’t read, and a black skirt with silver pentagrams across the waistband. She also had a black, translucent robe clasped at her neck with a silver dragon. Because of the flickering candles and dim light, the robe looked like she was wrapped in shadows.

You are light-footed.

She smiled. You have no idea.

Do you get a lot of customers after midnight?

No. Why would I want that? After a moment, she continued. Feel free to look around. If you need anything, I’m Alice Vemie.

That’s a unique name.

She smiled again. I know. I’ve never met anyone else named Alice.

Actually, I meant your... never mind. I’m Dean Valentine. Most people call me Val.

Oh, so you’re like me.

Huh?

I’m Alice, but some days I’m not.

Well, that makes perfect sense. Anyway, I’m sorry I barged in here. I was hoping to wait out the storm.

I, too, like to wait out storms in books.

I paused, trying to figure out why it sounded like she wasn’t talking about the rain.

Don’t go into the back room. She pointed to a door with a sign on it.

I wasn’t going to, I assured her.

She frowned. Why not?

Because the sign says it’s for employees only.

Her frown only deepened. Do you always do what signs tell you to?

Generally.

Interesting. No one else read that.

Wow. That’s strange. How long have you been open?

I’m never open.

I mean your store.

I opened the store two days ago.

Oh. Congratulations. It wasn’t a good idea to tell her that physical bookstores didn’t have a good market anymore. She hadn’t asked for my opinion. I’ll just have a look around then and not go in the back room.

She nodded. Oh, and my cat has gone missing. If you see him, tell him to go home, would you?

Sure? What does your cat look like?

Oh, you will know him when you see him. Everyone does. With that, she walked away.

I wanted to get my life going in a better direction, so I went to the section marked Self-Help and browsed the books. None of them jumped out at me. They all made the right promises, just not in any way that seemed to apply to me. Surprisingly, not a single one was geared towards religion.

I knew what I was looking for; I wanted to quit my job and go back to school to be an engineer. I wanted to stop wasting my life on a job I hated and do something exciting. I wanted to be appreciated for my creativity and problem-solving skills rather than my ability to do grunt work for sixteen hours a day, seven days a week.

I left the section in search of fantasy and found a few interesting titles, including To Serve Man by Karl Wurf and the second book in a crime fiction series by an author I liked. I was skimming a blurb when the whispers returned. In the stillness of the shop, it was blatantly obvious. I couldn’t make out any words, but it definitely sounded like someone talking. This time, however, I felt like they were coming from an area in the store instead of surrounding me.

Curiosity drove me towards it even as common sense told me to leave the store in a terrified manner. I half expected to find a rabbit hole at the end of my search. The aisles narrowed the further I ventured into the store until I had to squeeze through. I told myself it wasn’t strange that the store’s interior was clearly larger than the exterior.

I was good at lying to myself.

The whispers grew louder as I neared the end of the aisle. Finally, I reached the wall and turned to the left, where I encountered a wooden altar.

On it was a massive, thick, ancient book. It was the kind of book that one would expect to find buried in the secret study of a long-dead madman. Instead of a title, the front of the book merely had a gold, mystical seal. The cover was made of thick black leather in excellent condition. 

The whispers suddenly stopped.

Isn’t it sad that such a special book has no home? Alice asked from right behind me.

Again, I reacted instinctively to protect myself. Seventeen years of Krav Maga was pretty ingrained, and it had been years since someone was able to sneak up on me. However, Alice was no longer inches away but a couple of aisles down, smiling as if she thought my defense training was cute. Maybe she has martial arts training herself. Or ninja training.

I think it likes you, she said.

Huh?

She gestured to the book.

I turned back to it and cautiously picked it up. The hair on my arms stood. The sensation spread and turned into a chill. To hide my unexplainable reaction, I opened the book. It was all hand-written, but the words were in a foreign language. They were rune-like symbols instead of letters. While I didn’t recognize the language, it looked old and creepy. As I flipped through pages, I also saw drawings of strange devices and artifacts that didn’t look modern or conventional.

I think this is what you’re looking for, Alice said.

I don’t understand.

When you’re ready, you will.

This was getting more unsettling by the minute, so I set it back on the altar. I guess I’m not there, then. I half expected Alice to protest. When I turned around, however, she was gone. Instead of calling to her, I quickly made my way through the maze of aisles to the exit and left.

The rain had stopped and the wind was gone, as if the night was holding its breath for something. Choosing to ignore this, I rushed home. Once inside my devastatingly ordinary apartment, I sighed.

The apartment was small and sparsely furnished. The walls were tan without pictures or art. The front door opened to the living room and dining room, with the kitchen door on the far wall and a hallway on the right. The carpet was darker than the walls, with the blinds consisting of cheap white plastic. The couch was second-hand, dark blue fabric and the wooden coffee table was a little scratched up. The television was a standard twenty-four-inch smart TV.

I had a puzzle half completed on the coffee table. For some reason, Rose thought it was ridiculous for me to enjoy puzzles the way I did. Nevertheless, I was really looking forward to finishing it so that I could tape it up, flip it over, and see what the picture was.

It wasn’t a stylish place, but I’d never seen the point in having one. As long as it was clean and warm, I was happy. Of course, a workshop was definitely preferred. Rose, however, detested it. When we moved, we would get a larger place. The problem was that a larger house would require more money. Fortunately, paralegals get paid enough.

I felt a twinge of regret. Part of me wished I hadn’t left the bookshop because it was a break from my boring life. I went to the bathroom, stripped, and dried myself with a towel. The thought of my early meeting made me cringe. Maybe I can go back to the book store tomorrow night.

After checking on Rose, who was asleep in our bed, I went to the kitchen to make myself a late dinner. The kitchen was just as homely as the living room, with white cabinets and appliances. It was just large enough to have a four-person table and still open the fridge most of the way.

I set a plate and bag of bread on the table, pushing aside bridal magazines and bills. It bothered me that they weren’t neatly sorted and stacked, but Rose was all about controlled chaos and preferred to use bills as bookmarks. To her, an unopened bill didn’t have to be paid.

I grabbed some lunch meat, cheese, and dressing from the fridge and turned back to the table. I dropped the food and stepped back, bumping into the fridge. The ancient book was on my kitchen table.

* * *

I took a deep breath. Curses aren’t real. This isn’t a cursed book. It can’t be a cursed book because I’m not that lucky.

I wasn’t superstitious or religious, but I couldn’t help my interest in magic after all the fantasy I read as a kid. I wanted it to exist. I even believed that the mind was powerful, and people could do strange things with their minds. I also believed in karma.

But I didn’t believe in curses.

There’s no reasonable explanation for this. I carefully picked up the book and dropped it into the drawer next to the sink. I’ll take you back to the store tomorrow. Out of sight, out of mind. With that thought, I gathered up the bridal magazines and dropped them in another drawer. Rose would have a fit, but there was nothing new about that.

I ate and went to bed.

* * *

I dreamt of being in a maze. The whispers were back, but I still couldn’t understand them. A sense of urgency drove me onward. A dog barked, and I felt like I was being watched. I kept walking until I reached a square opening, ten feet wide. Standing there was Alice, holding the ancient book. You’re going to be late, she said.

Late for what?

A shadow passed over us, and for a second, I had the irrational thought that it was a dragon. I looked up, but there was nothing in the blue sky.

* * *

Four hours later, my alarm went off and I got ready for another miserable day. I ate toast, drank coffee, and ignored twenty-five emails. They could wait until I got to work.

As per my usual morning routine, I scoured career sites for anything available... and I crossed off most of them. They didn’t pay well enough to give Rose the life she wanted, or they were too far to walk, or I didn’t fit the experience requirements. It rarely mattered what my degree was; I needed experience to get a better job, and I needed a better job to get experience.

I poured myself a second cup of coffee and turned to the table...

The ancient book was there, in the open.

My coffee hit the wall and I hit the counter. After a moment, my rational mind kicked in to suggest that Rose had moved it in the middle of the night while looking for the magazines, and I just hadn’t noticed it. If only I didn’t know better. The book was impossible to miss.

I tossed it back in the drawer, cleaned up my mess, put Rose’s magazines back on the table, and left without my second cup of coffee. Clearly, I didn’t need any more caffeine in my system.

* * *

When Rose texted me that she couldn’t meet me for lunch, I was relieved. I had trouble concentrating all morning because of the damned book. Maybe I should warn her not to touch it. After a while, though, I got buried under work and finally pushed it aside.

By six in the evening, I was caught up and decided to head home. Mr. Russell stopped me at the door. He was a wise, classy man in his late sixties who became a lawyer to help people. He was five-ten with salt-and-pepper hair and bright blue eyes. He was nothing like his daughter.

Hey, Valentine, did you get the Wolfe case done?

Yes. We should get the court date tonight or tomorrow.

Great. The Sherwood file is on my desk. I need you to take care of that before Monday.

I’ll do it at home. I grabbed my locking briefcase from my desk and the binder from Mr. Russell’s office. I stopped at the bookstore on the way home, but it was closed, and there were no hours posted.

I went home and found the book in the drawer. Relieved, I made myself a sandwich and coffee before texting Rose that I was home. She didn’t respond, so I sat on the couch to work. I took a sip of my coffee, set it on the table, and typed up a page into the online form. Then, I put the file on the couch next to me and reached for my coffee without looking. When my hand didn’t touch the cup, I looked up. It was on the other side of the table, completely out of reach. What the hell?

Of course, the coffee didn’t answer me, and I was still alone, so I grabbed it and set it back on the coaster. Then I reached for the file. It wasn’t next to me. It was now in the chair on the other side of the room.

I did the only reasonable thing; I got up and checked the freezer. There was nothing there. I returned to the living room... where the ancient book was on the couch... and the couch was on the other side of the coffee table. Okay. I’ve seen enough. You’re going home. I picked up the book and grabbed my keys and wallet. I debated what to say to Alice the entire trip. I knew the book was doing some strange shit, but I couldn’t tell anyone without sounding like a crazy person.

* * *

When I got to the store, it was open, so I went in. It was still lit with candles.

Alice? I called. She emerged from the back room.

Hello, Val. I didn’t expect to see you again. Or are you someone else today?

This book... followed me home.

Her lack of concern concerned me. I knew it liked you.

How is that possible?

She shrugged. You’re meant to have it.

It’s just a book.

She laughed. There is no such thing. All books have power. They can convey information, give you a break from reality, or give you another perspective on life. They can make you laugh or cry. They can tear your heart out.

I get that. I love books. This one is different.

This one can help you. It might be the only one that can.

Help me what?

I don’t know. That’s between you and the book.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, surprising myself. I was always composed on the outside when someone was irritating me. Instead, my body felt anything but calm. I also didn’t feel frustrated, though. I don’t want it.

I think you do. You haven’t tried to give it to me.

There was a marketing technique I learned in school. When someone had their hands on something, they didn’t want to lose it. Car salesmen used this form of manipulation by getting potential customers to hold the keys to a car. I had the book in my hand.

Unexplainable occurrences challenged my disbelief of magic. I believed in science, but I also wasn’t stupid; the most rational explanation for it appearing in my house and rearranging my living room was magic. What wasn’t rational was my response to the book. As much as the strange occurrences freaked me out, this was the most exciting thing to happen to me in years.

If I gave her back the book, I could go back to work, get married, move to a big city, and have a couple of kids I would barely ever see...

And I would always wonder what would have happened had I kept the book.

Or, I could accept that I didn’t know everything and see what the book did next. Then, if things went back to normal, at least I wouldn’t wonder.

Is it dangerous?

All books are dangerous in the wrong hands. This one isn’t dangerous to you, though.

What is it, anyway? Is it some journal or cursed stories of dead people?

It’s sort of a journal, but it’s normally called a grimoire. It’s a magic book.

Chapter 2

I got home to find my fiancée sitting at the kitchen table, going through the bridal magazines. Rose was a knockout. She was five-nine and slender with long, curly, chestnut-brown hair and bright turquoise eyes. She was wearing a fitted, sleeveless, knee-length, cobalt-blue dress with a decorative silver belt around her waist. Her heels were silver. Her beauty was natural, though; she hardly used any makeup.

I put the grimoire under my bed in my room before she could see it and ask me about it. She had no patience for fantasy or fiction. The picture on my nightstand was down again, so I put it back up. The room was large enough for the king-sized bed, two nightstands, and Rose’s dresser. The only important possession in the room to me was the picture of my dad on my nightstand.

My dad had messy, dark brown hair, no facial hair, and chocolate brown eyes. Since my grandfather was Japanese, my dad had a hint of Japanese descent in his skin tone and facial structure.

His genetics were strong because I looked identical to him when he was my age, except for my eyes. That wasn’t to say I didn’t get his eyes. That would have been too normal. Instead, my left eye was the same brown as his, while my right was deep blue. My dad loved my eyes.

Rose often put my picture down because she didn’t like my dad watching her sleep. When I assured her that he didn’t like watching her sleep either, she wasn’t pleased.

When I entered the kitchen, I greeted Rose with a kiss on the cheek. She didn’t bother to return the affection. I ordered us Chinese for dinner, she said as I opened the cabinet to find something to eat.

Thanks. I didn’t like Chinese and she knew that, but I appreciated that she ordered me something.

I think we should do a Chinese buffet for the wedding, too.

I thought you wanted halibut. As much as I wanted to leave the planning to her, she would have bankrupted us in under a week if I didn’t curb her extravagant tastes.

She rolled her eyes. Everyone does halibut. I want my wedding to be special.

Am I invited to your wedding?

She scowled at me. This is supposed to be the happiest day of my life.

The second happiest will be the day you put me in the ground. I sighed and resisted the urge to say what was on my mind.

Don’t give me that look, she said.

It’s just my face, I said for the thousandth time. The lights flickered, which had never happened here before, but I ignored it. I didn’t yell at her, or at any woman, no matter how much they irritated me. My dad raised me better than that.

Instead, I bottled all the frustration up and saved it for my martial arts. That wasn’t to say I liked fighting or hurting people. On the contrary, I preferred to deescalate a situation with rationality or humor and only resorted to fighting when I or someone else was in danger.

Unfortunately, it had been most of a week since I could get to the school, which was probably why I was so antsy. Fortunately, meditation can be done anywhere. Although Krav Maga was one of the few martial arts that didn’t include meditation, I did it anyway. Then again, a magic book trying to gaslight me gave me a pretty good excuse.

Do you even want to get married? she asked. It was her go-to question every time she thought I wasn’t taking her requests seriously. To be fair, though, she made quite a few ridiculous requests.

Je ne suis plus sûr. Of course I do. Because any other answer would result in a huge fight, crocodile tears, and her father showing up at my work to confront me for breaking his daughter’s heart.

I did love Rose, but I didn’t like my fiancée. Before the engagement, she was sweet and loving, if not a bit materialistic. Once she got a ring, though, it was all about her wedding and her plans as a wife.

The food arrived at that point, so I didn’t have to comfort her as she pretended to be distraught. She pointed out many pictures of materials, colors, flowers, and decorations as she ate, and I pretended to care. She had a good point about it being her day. Decorations, food, music, and dresses meant nothing to me. It was Rose that mattered. Our relationship wasn’t perfect, but nothing was.

When her phone chimed, she scrambled to grab it and shut it off. Everything okay? I asked.

Yeah. I just forgot to mute it.

Why would you mute it at home?

So that we wouldn’t be interrupted.

She was lying. I figured it was about something she wanted for the wedding and knew I would disapprove of it because of the cost. I dropped it. I just wanted to get the wedding over with so that we could go back to the good days.

Your side of the family is really lop-siding the wedding.

I could adopt an elephant.

Would it kill you to be serious? she asked.

It might not, but I would rather not risk it. If you take all the sarcasm out of me, would there be anything left?

Don’t you have any friends?

Not any who would show up to my wedding.

What about that deadbeat, Leon?

Leon and Jess can’t make it. Mostly because my friends hated her. I shrugged. Can’t be helped. My dad’s side of the family was secretive.

My grandmother, an adventurous and notoriously feisty French woman, had died in a plane crash when I was five. I remembered her reading La Barbe bleue to me and letting me help her make Sunday lunches.

My grandfather was super important to my dad, but he disappeared from my father’s life shortly before I was born. My father was convinced he had been murdered, but I suppose that’s the first conclusion a homicide detective would jump to. My dad also had a younger half-brother he had never met and tried to contact, but the man had apparently disappeared as well.

My aunt, Abigail, was a sweet woman, albeit very peculiar. Unfortunately, she moved away suddenly when I was nine, and we lost contact with her. I hadn’t been able to contact her since my father’s death.

Although my mother had several brothers and sisters, she was ostracized from them. Despite being as entitled as her, they hated her. Anytime anyone in that family got together, all they could do was bicker and put each other down.

A few times, I heard whispering, but it was clearly not heard by Rose, so I ignored it.

After dinner, I got some work done, which irritated Rose because she wanted to talk about the wedding. I told her if I didn’t get it done, I would have to stay late at work the next night. Fine. I’m going out. She dressed up and left. I felt bad for her, because it wasn’t fair to her to have to go alone. I enjoyed going out with her, but I didn’t have the time.

* * *

Ten minutes of peace and quiet was all I got before an irritable knock on the door made my heart sink. I would know that knock anywhere. After a moment where I considered not answering, the knocking took on a threatening tone. I took a deep breath before opening my door to my mother.

Krista Bechtel was bottle-blond with cold blue eyes and expertly applied makeup that couldn’t quite hide her frown lines. She could be pretty when she wasn’t scowling, but she hadn’t genuinely smiled around me in a decade. In fact, I didn’t know if she could smile unless she was skinning some puppies to make a coat.

Don’t give me that look, Dean, she said, pushing her way past me.

I sighed and gave her my fake smile. Good evening, Maman. Come in.

Don’t take that tone with me.

Okay. What are you doing here? I don’t recall saying your name three times into the bathroom mirror.

I just wanted to make sure you’ve broken up with that stupid girl.

I sighed. I’m going to be married in a week. I’m not calling it off.

You’re only doing this to piss me off. The lights flickered. You should move out of this dump.

That’s just our new ghost, Billy. He doesn’t like arguments. It makes him want to hurt people.

She rolled her eyes. What do you see in that bimbo, anyway?

Thirty-two double D’s. Her eyes widened until I laughed, and then she glared. Rose is a great girl. She’s sweet and smart.

She just wants your money.

Well, she certainly doesn’t want me for my wonderful mother. My mother followed me into the kitchen, where I poured her a cup of coffee that had been sitting on the heating plate all day. It was unpalatably bitter and acrid, so it suited her perfectly. Rose isn’t like that.

Of course she is. That’s why she dropped out of college as soon as she started dating you. She wants a husband who has money.

I shook my head. My mother couldn’t be reasoned with. Any chance you’re here to return my car?

Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll try to elope if I give you my car.

I’m marrying Rose in a week. That’s hardly eloping.

I’m not going, so you can’t get married.

Your permission isn’t required. Nor is your presence.

You can’t get married without your mother’s permission!

You’re going to be in for a huge surprise in a week and a half. You using my car isn’t going to stop me.

Fine! If you’re going to be such an ungrateful brat, I’ll give you my car, but you’ll have to buy me a new one.

You want me to buy you a new car just to get mine back? Putain de bordel de merde.

Dean Valentine!

Pardon my French. Since I only spoke in French when I was angry or upset, she always assumed I was cursing at her when I did. She was right, but that was beside the point.

She set her coffee down, preparing for a one-sided, longwinded argument. Before she could begin, however, we both watched her coffee mug slide across the table. Your table is crooked, she said.

No, that’s Billy. I couldn’t keep up the payments to my exorcist, so my house was repossessed.

She walked around to the other side... but the cup slid away from her.

It’s Billy’s coffee now.

Stop messing around!

You’re right. I’m sorry. The truth is, I got a magic book yesterday, and it likes messing with me... and coffee mugs. The lights flickered and I pointed up at the ceiling. Yeah, the lights, too.

It’s poltergeists! With that, my mother was in a hurry to leave.

Bonne nuit. I shut the door behind her and leaned against it. Thanks, Billy. That was the least painful visit I have ever gotten from her. I went to the couch to continue working, but the book was on top of my laptop. I sat and picked it up. What is your deal?

I opened it and skimmed through the pages. I still couldn’t read them, but the writing was pretty cool and the drawings were interesting, so I studied it for several hours.

* * *

Once again, I was in a maze, but it wasn’t a fancy green one bathed in sunlight. This time, it was dark and the walls were stone. Glowing crystals jutted from the walls. The sense of urgency was stronger than before. At one point, I stood still, alone in a cavern with nothing moving... nothing but shadows.

* * *

I woke to my alarm clock and got ready for work. Rose had come home late and drunk, so I was glad not to be there when she got up. Instead, I left out some Advil, water, toast, and a banana for her.

Again, the book appeared on the table with no warning, but I was getting used to it. I stared at it as I ate some eggs and toast. I wonder if there’s someone at the local university that can translate you. Maybe Alice can at least tell me what language you’re in.

Realizing that I was talking aloud to the book, for the book’s benefit, I decided I needed a dose of normalcy. Not that my normal was great. I put the book away and went to work.

I wasn’t even done making coffee and turning on the lights before Mrs. Anderson arrived, threw a binder of work at me, and said she was off to her friend’s baby shower. I texted Rose that I was going to be very late tonight.

* * *

Eight hours later, my back ached, my stomach growled, and my fingers were stiff with pain. Gingerly, I stood and stretched my whole body. It took me a moment to realize Mr. Russell was watching me. When I saw him, he smirked. Think you feel old now? Wait until you’re my age. Did you finish the Sherwood file?

I did some of it last night, but Mrs. Anderson has had me busy all day.

Sherry’s not here.

No, she dropped the Bate’s case off this morning. I just finished it and was about to start back on the Sherwood case.

He frowned at his watch. You’re overworking yourself. You can finish the file at home.

No, Rose is really distracted by the wedding, and she tends to distract me. It’s better to do it here.

If you insist. I hope you’re not planning on working over the honeymoon.

I’m not.

He went back to his office and I grabbed my case. When I opened it, my heart dropped. I had put the papers I finished in it, but not the ones I had left. Ça fait chier ! How had I missed that? I was meticulous about my responsibilities... at least, I was before I got a magic book.

I smacked my head against the table a couple of times before drawing myself up and leaving the office. I knocked on Mr. Russell’s door and he gave me a knowing look. Did you forget it at home?

Part of it, yes. I’m sorry.

It happens when you have too much on your plate.

I’ll do it at home because I really don’t want to make an extra trip.

Your mother still has your car?

Yes.

Alright. Just make sure you get it done.

I will. Have a good night. I walked home.

The bookstore was closed, or I would have stopped to ask Alice what the book’s language was. I was worried when I saw Rose’s little yellow convertible in the parking spot. Either she had left work early, or she’d been too hungover to go in. I opened the door, not announcing my arrival in case she was asleep, and went to the coffee table.

Sugar. The file wasn’t there. You better not be messing with me, Billy, I said quietly to the book, only half sarcastic. I had no idea what I would say to my boss if it was missing. Sorry, Mr. Russell, but my magic book seems to have taken the file.

I searched the kitchen with no luck. Finally, I opened the door to the bedroom. The first thing I saw was movement on the bed, and it didn’t even take a split second to realize what was going on. My fiancée was having sex with another man in our bed.

Shock coursed through me and then an instant later, I felt nothing. Before I could say anything, I spotted my folder on the nightstand. With perfect calmness, I entered the room. Don’t mind me. I’m just here to get this. I grabbed my folder.

Rose shrieked and covered the man up with the blanket. He cussed. I didn’t see the guy because I wasn’t looking and it was dark. He wasn’t to blame for my girlfriend’s infidelity, anyway.

Val, I can explain!

You two carry on. I just forgot my work. I closed the door before she could run after me. However, instead of walking back to work, I called a friend I hadn’t spoken to in a few weeks. He was a good friend, but I had very little time to hang out with anyone I didn’t live with. Also, he hated Rose.

Hello?

Hey, Leon. It’s Val.

Hey, what’s up? You sound weird.

I just caught Rose cheating on me. Would it be possible for me to crash on your couch tonight?

Yeah, of course. I’ll come to get you. Where are you?

I’m outside my apartment, but I’m heading to the park, because I don’t want to be here when Rose gets dressed.

Okay. I’ll meet you at the park in about ten minutes.

He was already waiting on me when I reached the park. He was five-ten and had a runner’s build. His eyes were dark hazel and he had shaggy, dark brown hair.

You okay? he asked as I got into his car.

I think so.

Do you want me to take you to the school instead? Leon had joined Krav Maga when we became friends in high school.

No. I think I just need to sit for a while.

Do you want to bleach all of Rose’s clothes and throw them on the street?

I shook my head. That won’t accomplish anything.

Don’t shut down. She’s not worth it. I wish I could say I’m surprised, but I’m not.

Am I the only one who didn’t see that she was capable of that?

Yes. To be fair, though, she was really good at hiding it. She acts differently around different people. She’s smart. She spent her life learning how to pretend to be what a guy like you wants. Was it someone you know?

I shook my head. Probably one of her coworkers. Not that it matters. I’ll go back tomorrow to get my stuff when she’s not there.

Really? You’re done with her? What if she calls you up, crying and begging you to forgive her?

I considered it. I didn’t feel angry or wounded. It was just over. I’m really done. I’ll be angry later, when I have a place to stay and don’t have to think about seeing her again. All that matters right now is moving on.

We were silent for the rest of the trip. Part of me wanted to bury myself in so much work that I didn’t have time to think. Part of me wanted to puke at the idea of going back to the office. It wasn’t me. My mother pushed me into it because it was a financially secure option. I hadn’t really been me since she took me in.

I couldn’t stay at my friend’s house forever, nor could I afford another place after all of the wedding deposits. I also couldn’t stand the idea of going back to work, and I didn’t know what I would do if my boss threw one of her fits.

We reached Leon’s house. He had apparently already told his husband, Jess, because he asked me how I was holding up. Pretty fair, I think. Jess wasn’t intimidating looks-wise, with his dirty blond hair, trusting blue eyes, and small stature, but he was absolutely willing to destroy anyone who messed with Leon.

Give me your keys so I can throw all of her makeup in the toilet, Jess said.

I laughed. No. I’m not interested in revenge. I just want to move on.

I’ll be back in a few minutes.

Where are you going? Leon asked.

To break the DVD player.

Babe, we broke the vacuum last week.

Excuse me?

I mean... I broke the vacuum.

Don’t worry about me, I said. I’m a bit tired.

Are you sure? Leon asked. It’s a Roomba.

Okay, I do want to play with that. They laughed and got me the machine. I figured out what was wrong with it before I got it fully dissected. I had a lot of fun fixing the electrical issue.

Afterwards, I was given a blanket and immediately fell asleep on the couch.

* * *

We need your help. I saw a man in a cave, but I was in a forest an instant later, watching a burning shape flying through the sky. We are running out of... I saw flashes of the man, a crystal, and fire. You must find... I was back in the cave and overcome by devastating heat, but as quickly as it appeared, it vanished. ... out of alignment.

* * *

I woke with a start to my phone chirping at me. I was drenched in sweat. Although I could only remember a tiny glimpse of my chaotic dream, I got the impression my night had been full of whispers, the dark cave, and monsters. None of them made any sense, yet I felt that they were the most important thing in the world. Adrenaline flowed through me.

When I sat up, the ancient book clattered to the floor, so I picked it up. I’m not even going to ask how you got here.

You’re awake, Jess acknowledged. Come and have some breakfast. I set aside my book, ignored the blinking of my phone, and joined them at the table. We had pancakes, eggs, and bacon while discussing Jess’s plant nursery.

It was blatantly obvious when Leon casually typed out a text... followed by a ding from Jess’s phone. Then Jess texted back. I saw a construction job available on Craigslist, Jess said. Oh, and our mechanic just broke up with his boyfriend. It was bad. He might be looking for a new partner. Leon and I both looked at him and he rolled his eyes. "Work partner, obviously. He’s not into rebounds."

How do you know? Leon asked.

We’re Facebook friends.

They were great friends. Instead of telling me how I should feel and deal with the situation, they supported my decisions.

That might be good, I said. Before I start looking for a better job, though, I need to get my stuff and find a place to stay.

Rose knows where you work, Jess said. I wouldn’t put it past her to show up there and start something.

You have a point. After breakfast, I saw that I had dozens of texts from Rose and three voice messages in addition to my work-related emails. I deleted the texts and voicemails, expecting to feel regret and anxiety. Instead, I felt relief.

Once I knew Rose was supposed to be at work, Leon drove me back to my apartment. Did you have that book yesterday?

Yeah, I lied. We reached the apartment a few minutes later to find Rose’s car gone.

Do you want me to stick around?

No. Thanks, though. Leon would invite me to stay with him indefinitely, and Jess knew this. Thus, even though I had no intention of overstaying my welcome, I didn’t want to make Jess worry.

I went inside and, fortunately, Rose was gone. After setting my book on the table, I grabbed a backpack and packed the picture of my father and a few changes of clothes. When Rose called, I blocked her number. Once I was done, I stopped short of the front door.

Where will I go? What will I do when she shows up at work?

Then I sat on the couch with a sigh of frustration and stared at the book. Finally, after a few minutes, I grabbed it and set it in my lap. Okay. I’m truly desperate. I don’t want to be here; I don’t want to be a paralegal with a greedy mother and ex-fiancée. This was not what I was meant to do. This isn’t who I am. I want to go somewhere else. Anywhere else. As far away from here as possible, where I can do something special and important. So if you can help me, now is the time.

I reached for the cover, preparing myself for disappointment...

And the cover flew open before I could touch it. Pages fluttered as a wind suddenly picked up in the middle of the living room. They stopped on a page with a black spot that was impossibly dark... and growing. In a matter of seconds, the spot swelled past the edge of the page. I let go and scrambled away, but the wind grew more violent.

The book disappeared into the blackness, which was now expanding in all directions to form a sphere. I didn’t shout or even run to the door. As shocking and terrifying as this was, I wasn’t as afraid as I should have been. Some part of me knew what this was.

It was a way out.

Whatever was on the other side of that, my job wasn’t there. Rose wasn’t there. My mother wasn’t there. Maybe it was stupid to choose the unknown, but no matter what it was, or even if it was nothing, it was what I had asked for.

The wind grew stronger, pushing me towards the blackness, which had stopped growing at six feet in diameter. I was afraid, but I wasn’t about to waste an opportunity to change everything. I grabbed my backpack and stepped into it.

Chapter 3

I was in a forest. Instead of sitting up, I took account of my condition. I wasn’t in pain, and my fingers and toes worked. A sharp stone under my left shoulder blade stung, but not enough to warrant moving before I had all the facts. Considering what usually happened when someone was sucked into a black hole, it was so far, so good.

It was a little chilly, about sixty-five degrees, and overcast. Birds were chirping in the trees, but not any I recognized. While the trees themselves weren’t strange, I wasn’t a botanist or ecologist, so I couldn’t identify the species. It was a regular forest, not a tropical jungle. Some of the leaves had turned, suggesting it was on the cusp of fall. Since it was fall at home, I figured I was in the same hemisphere. Nevertheless, without some kind of man-made structure, I had no idea where I was.

One thing was for sure: I wasn’t in Kansas anymore.

Finally, I sat up and glanced around. Leaves, items from my apartment, and the magic book were scattered on the ground around me. My backpack and the book were the only essential objects. The rest consisted of broken cups, puzzle pieces, newspapers, mail, and clothes. I took a deep breath and picked up the book. Thank you. I don’t know where I am, but thank you. Now... could you tell me where I am or where to go?

The book didn’t answer.

I need to get myself a purse dog so that I can talk to it instead of my book. That will look way less crazy.

I opened it and started flipping through the pages. Unfortunately, they still weren’t in English. Although it was a tight fit, I put the book in my backpack and pulled out my phone. When I opened the compass app, I was disappointed and confused, but not surprised that the needle spun and spun. It never settled. I also didn’t have any bars, so there was no way to determine where I was. I turned it off, put it away, and started wandering aimlessly. Eventually, I will find a way out of the forest.

* * *

If I couldn’t find my way out of the forest by nightfall, I would need to find water, shelter, and food. Once I was safe and not at risk of starvation or dehydration, I could figure out where I was and what to do about it. The weather didn’t look like it would turn violent any time soon, but I had no idea what other environmental dangers there were...

Like bears.

Or snakes.

Or werewolves.

You know, a really nice book would have told me what to pack or given me a map, I mused aloud to the book. To my shock, my backpack wiggled, so I set it down and pulled out my book. The book popped open and flipped to the very last page, where a painting appeared... of treetops. It was a closeup of the forest.

At the center of the page, a small red dot appeared with the words, You are here. Unfortunately, there were no roads, towns, water, or location names anywhere.

That was just so helpful. I shut the book and put it away before continuing my hike.

I was relieved when I reached the end of the forest. A dirt road ran along the edge of the forest and across from me was a grassy field. This isn’t too strange. There are places like this outside of the city... I think. At least, there are in the movies. Great. Now I’m lying to myself and talking to myself.

* * *

I soon came upon a small, strange village with agricultural fields in the distance. The architecture was middle-age-European in design with robust, thatch roofs and heavy wooden frames. However, upon closer inspection, I noticed aspects that didn’t match. While the buildings were simplistic, they had accents of industrial pipes or gears that suggested some technology.

People didn’t dress in traditional medieval clothes or modern American garments. Instead, the women wore some combination of leather boots, short skirts, dresses, frilly shirts with leather vests, and corsets. Men wore leather boots, leather vests or waistcoats, and trousers. It almost reminded me of a renaissance fair, but it was more edgy, like steampunk. They were not fancy enough to belong in a convention, though. The clothes were also primarily brown and black.

People went about their business trading, making, and repairing things. The tools, however, were just as unusual. Several people transported items in carts with wheels that looked more like gears than anything I used. Most interesting was that the carts were driving themselves after their owners like eager puppies. A woman used a metal rod that sprang out to reach for a tunic on a high wire. The end of it opened and latched onto the shirt. It wasn’t particularly advanced, but it was out of place. I didn’t see a single sign of modern technology using traditional energy.

People stared at me and whispered to each other. But, since most of them were focused on my clothes, I didn’t fret.

Am I dreaming? Maybe this is a fanciful delusion of a desperate, deranged mind. Perhaps I passed out from hunger and hit my head on the coffee table. If that’s the case, I hope I never wake up.

Where does he come from? a boy asked an older woman.

I was shocked they spoke English, but then again, maybe English was more popular than I’d thought. I approached a woman who was washing clothes in a box outside of her hut. The box was sitting on a metal pot, which made sense because steam rose from the water. It also had a pipe feeding into the side from the pot and a horizontal wooden bar that she was rotating on top. I had never seen a manual washing machine before, but I really wanted to take it apart.

Hello. Excuse me. Where is this place?

This is Spávegr.

Oh... Is that in Canada? I’m either in some remote village, or a third-world country. I was really hoping it was a village in North America.

What is Canada?

Never mind. Is there a hotel or something... somewhere I can stay the night?

She pointed to a house. It had the same thatch roof and wooden frame, but it was three times larger than the surrounding buildings and had a second story. That is the inn. The innkeeper is Soru.

Thank you. I went to the house and knocked on the door. No one answered, so I entered. At first glance, I could have been in a video game; it was dimly lit with heavy wooden tables, rustic mugs, and plates of hearty food. Low-tech lanterns on the support beams provided light.

However, just like in the rest of the village, there were elements that I wasn’t familiar with.

A violin on the wall was playing itself, sans the bow. Unfortunately, it was out of tune.  There were paintings of dragons on the wall and a skull hanging from the ceiling that wasn’t any creature I knew... a massive carnivore with horns. Against the far wall was a bar, and across from the entrance was a set of steps leading to a balcony.

As I approached the bar, I noticed a painting of a green dragon. When I moved, the painted scales shifted from green to gold. The dragon itself looked fearsome, with spikes covering most