Waking Magic: The Revelations of Oriceran (The Leira Chronicles Book 1) Read online

  CONTENTS

  Dedication

  Legal

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  YTT Store

  Author Notes - Martha Carr

  Author Notes - Michael Anderle

  Social Links

  Series List

  DEDICATION

  From Martha

  To everyone who still believes in magic and all the possibilities that holds.

  To all the readers who make this entire ride so much fun.

  And to my son, Louie and the wonderful Katie who remind me all the time of what

  really matters and how wonderful life can be in any given moment.

  And finally, a special thank you to John Nelson of the Austin, Texas

  Police Department who patiently answers all of my questions.

  I hope I made you proud. Thank you for your service.

  From Michael

  To Family, Friends and

  Those Who Love

  To Read.

  May We All Enjoy Grace

  To Live The Life We Are

  Called.

  WAKING MAGIC Team

  JIT Beta Readers

  Joshua Ahles

  Paul Westman

  Kimberly Boyer

  Peter Manis

  Keith Verret

  Erika Daly

  James Caplan

  Micky Cocker

  John Raisor

  If I missed anyone, please let me know!

  Editors

  Ellen Campbell

  WAKING Magic (this book) is a work of fiction.

  All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.

  This book Copyright © 2017 Martha Carr and Michael T. Anderle

  Cover Design by John-Paul Balmet

  Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing

  LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  LMBPN Publishing

  PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy

  Las Vegas, NV 89109

  First US edition, August 2017

  The Oriceran (and what happens within / characters / situations / worlds) are Copyright (c) 2017 by Martha Carr and LMPBN Publishing.

  Prologue

  If you missed Quest for Magic – Book Zero, let us catch you up…

  There are some on our planet who believe you can't handle the truth, so the truth has been hidden for millennia.

  Another world, hell another world in another dimension is separated from Earth by only a thin veil that opens fully every 25,800 years (called a ‘great year’). It takes thousands of years to open fully, and thousands to close.

  Meanwhile, the magic from this planet starts to seep over to Earth and changes everything.

  For one woman, her unique blood type includes a one-in-a-million chromosome that is about to be turned back on, and she has no idea what’s coming.

  Twenty-five-year old Austin Police Homicide Detective, Leira Berens lives in a small house behind a bar. The regulars at the bar are the only family she has left. Her mother’s been in a psych ward for years, her grandmother disappeared four years ago.

  Without a trace.

  Leira has issues with bonding. It’s never worked out very well. The regulars at the bar and her older partner, Detective Felix Hagan, are about all she can take.

  Leave the touchie-feelie stuff to someone else.

  That all changes the day a portal opens up and Leira is escorted over to the other side. To the world of Oriceran where magic permeates everything.

  The Light Elf Prince Rolim was murdered by a human archaeologist and Leira is asked to capture the killer and reclaim the powerful magical artifact he stole before everything goes boom.

  There isn’t much time and she needs to focus on the task at hand. Find the killer Bill Somers, somewhere on Earth, and bring him back to Oriceran to face justice, along with that necklace.

  Returned to her living room from where she left, only a short while after they took her to Oriceran, Leira experiences the slight glitch in time between the two worlds as they come together and move apart.

  Using the portals before the gates are fully open is dangerous, even against the treaties.

  Somewhere in this mess, she acquired a five-inch troll who sneaks back through the portal with her.

  One last thing… She now knows her mother’s not crazy.

  But that's just the beginning of the story. Well, the unveiling of an entire Universe.

  Welcome to Waking Magic and the first book in The Revelations of Oriceran.

  Because there are those who believe you can't handle the truth.

  Are you ready?

  CHAPTER ONE

  Going to Lavender Rock turned up nothing except a lot of suspicious stares and gave her a mild headache and a humming in her ears that lasted the rest of the weekend.

  Leira grumbled. She sat up on her old couch and stretched her back thinking to what she saw around the rock. “Something wasn’t…right. Too many people just hanging out.” She twisted herself left, then right to loosen up her muscles. “Save that for a return trip.” She heard her back pop. “Oww! Fuck Monday mornings,” she ground out in pain.

  Suddenly, a small green streak of hair zipped past her and her eyes popped wide, head trying to follow the little green miscreant. “No, no, no! I’ve got to get to work!” she called out.

  She lunged for the small troll, chasing it around the room. Small, like five-inches small and almost nothing to grab onto, especially when it was moving in a hurry.

  The tiny creature was always in a hurry. One long weekend of trying to keep that fidgety pain in the ass in a cardboard shoe box. It had taken the troll less than a day until his box was in shreds—along with the washcloth blanket she had used for bedding.

  Leira lunged again for the troll but came up empty, her fingertips just brushing the wild tuft of green hair.

  The troll did a neat bounce, and a tuck and roll off her old couch, landing on its feet. Zipping into the kitchen, leaving her impressed for a split second.

  “Well, damn,” she mused, her eyes narrowing. “Fuck!” she yelled, as the frustration returned.

  “Fuck!” chirped the five-inch creature, followed by a trail of laughter as Leira scrambled to move her ass into the kitchen.

  “Great, your first Earth word,” she mumbled, as drawers and doors slammed shut. She got to the kitchen just in time to see a green streak slide neatly into her silverware drawer and slam it shut.

/>   She headed towards the drawer. “I have to get to work, you little green P.I.T.A.!” she said in her best detective voice, heart pounding from chasing the troll.

  It had been a long weekend, and not in a good way. Longer than anyone would believe, if Leira tried to tell them, but she had no plans to do that.

  “Double fuck Monday mornings.” She jerked the silverware drawer open. The troll stopped biting one of her spoons, looked up at her, jumped to the counter and banged headfirst into her honey pot shaped cookie jar. It shook its head, dazed, teetering on one foot, it’s eyes not focusing very well at all.

  Leira glanced at the time flashing on the microwave. “This is why I don’t have a pet.” She mumbled as she ran to her bedroom for a suitable shoe box.

  Maybe she could contain the troll long enough to get to work?

  “Hagan’s coming back,” she pleaded with the troll. “We need to be on time. Wasn’t your behavior last night bad enough?”

  She had spent the day checking on Hagan, back home after only one night in the hospital. Leira told him to take a few days off until she realized she was only raising his blood pressure.

  “It’s just a goddamn flesh wound,” he yelled.

  “Passed right through some auxiliary flesh,” said his wife, patting his arm.

  He grumbled but smiled. “She means fat,” he said. “I’ll be at my desk tomorrow, ready to go. Cleared by a doctor, no less. A pile of paperwork awaits.”

  Leira was worn out by the time she got home. Her mind was buzzing with everything that had happened in the past few days. She only made it as far as the couch, drifting off to sleep with the troll snoring happily from inside of her pocket, dreaming about magical castles that floated in mid-air or plants that moved to the sound of your voice.

  But Leira was a light sleeper and the sound of loud rustling in her closet, or her trash can tipping over ripped her out of a dream and she leaped up from the couch to go find the troll.

  Once again.

  It wasn’t until about five a.m. when he finally fell asleep.

  She found him in the recesses of her underwear drawer, turning in circles before settling down in a pile of cotton underwear.

  She was tempted to reach out and pet the little guy as it shut its eyes and smacked its lips, satisfied to have finally found a nest.

  Almost tempted.

  She remembered the sharp, pointed teeth and how fast the troll grew into an oversized version of a dog when someone had casually knocked on her door.

  Nope, please keep all fingers and other soft and crunchy bits out from near the mouth of sir lots-of-teeth she thought, and went back to the couch, her gun nearby.

  She grabbed a couple of hours of sleep before her alarm went off, startling both herself and the troll who angrily banged against the walls of her dresser before taking off to explore the kitchen.

  Apparently, this magical creature didn’t like to get up early.

  Her heart was still racing as the troll leaped behind her coffee maker, pushing it toward the edge of the counter.

  “Not the coffee!” she yelled. She lunged for the glass carafe, catching it just in time and flashing the troll an ugly look. “That’s messing with my lifeblood.” She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She ran a hand through her short, dark hair and wished she had time to throw some water on her face.

  Trying to catch a five-inch troll was a sonofabitch. She put her hand on her gun.

  The troll crawled into a bag of stale popcorn, happily munching its way to the bottom, scattering kernels everywhere.

  “Okay, that’s a little too dramatic,” Leira said, taking her hand back off her gun and putting the carafe back on the counter. “But not by much. It’s coffee, but probably not worth shooting you over.” She took a deep breath, rethinking her strategy. “Maybe.”

  As she let out the breath, she saw the troll suddenly appear at the top of the popcorn bag. He let himself relax, dropping his shoulders, sighing contentedly. He smacked his lips and rubbed his belly, lazily looking up at her.

  “Oh no,” she said, as a thought came over her. “You’re connected to me?” She bit her bottom lip trying to come up with a way to prove her theory.

  “Now!” she roared, stomping her foot on the linoleum floor, glaring at the troll. She let herself think of Prince Rolim, the Light Elf, as the knife went deeper into his body and his eyes widened in shock and pain.

  The anguish on Queen Saria’s face flashed in Leira’s mind as she balled her hands into fists at her side and her anger grew at the thought of such a senseless death. Worse, the killer had gotten away and was somewhere here on Earth.

  “Dammit,” she hissed.

  A surge of anger flowed through the troll and he stood up straighter and leaped nimbly from the drawer to the floor, getting larger at an alarming rate, Leira watching in wonder until his tuft on his head was brushing the ceiling.

  He let out a growl, baring his teeth, and stomped the floor in a pretty good imitation of Leira.

  “Then, it’s true!” She looked up at him. “You feel what I feel.“ The troll’s head brushed against the oversized brass lamp that hung in the center of the room, sending it swinging and raining dust down on the floor. “Shit, this is not good,” Leira said slowly.

  “Gross,” she exclaimed as the dust hit her, covering her face with her hands. She shook her short dark hair, trying to keep the dust from landing on her.

  “Who knew there was so much crap up there?” She reached for a dish towel to wipe her mouth, trying to ignore the gritty taste.

  The troll growled again, a low rumble that rattled the dishes in the sink.

  “That was intense.” Leira paused, keeping eye contact with the troll. She was never one to back away from danger and frankly, though he looked terrifying, he didn’t seem upset with her because he was looking around for something else to be angry at.

  What had that Light Elf told her? Trolls bond with beings that help them. Bonding had to be a good thing, she thought, and she had saved his life.

  It was a good thing, right? Great, now she was busy questioning her motives for instinctive reactions.

  She sighed and tried to think of a happy place.

  “Oh for fuck’s sake,” she muttered to herself. “What’s happy?” She glanced at the huge troll. “Hanging out at the bar? No, not really. Going for a run. Maybe. Damn, why has this never come up before?” She wondered aloud.

  The troll seemed to feel her growing anxiety and screwed up its face to roar again. He turned in a circle, stomping his feet, and bumped into Leira. “Son of a bitch!” She called out as she stumbled into the lavender quartz countertop.

  “Dammit! Okay, okay, I admit it.” She moved her hair out of her eyes. “My happy place is running someone down. A nice tackle and the sound the handcuffs make. There, you happy?” she asked the Troll, trying to calm down again.

  The troll stopped stomping and trilled at her, cocking its head to the side and looking down as it towered over her.

  Leira looked up into those eyes staring down at her. “Looking over a murder scene with Hagan.” She flung a hand up, pointing to the ceiling and now singing a bit. “Knowing someone is lying in an interrogation. These are a few of my favorite things.”

  The troll started to shrink, shaking all over like a dog. Leira reached down to the floor and put out her hand. The troll leaped on, fitting neatly in the palm of her hand and promptly curled up into a ball.

  “That wore you out,” she murmured as she watched him get comfortable. “Interesting. Thank goodness you can’t say much besides fuck yet.” She pursed her lips and shrugged. “And can’t tell the world I’m happiest in the middle of mayhem,” she concluded.

  She sighed and the troll opened one eye and looked up at her. He trilled again, softly and closed his eye.

  She looked around the mostly clean kitchen. “This is going to be a sucky week at work. And, it’s only Monday.” She walked to the couch and slid the sleeping troll into the roomy
pocket of her favorite black jacket. The troll’s head popped out of the pocket and he looked around at the room, stretching his arms.

  “Stay put!” she told it and she went to grab a pair of her underwear. She stuffed them carefully into the pocket, tucking the edges around the troll. “Those can be yours now,” she told it, adding under her breath. “Absolutely no need to give them back.”

  The troll closed his eyes and settled back down.

  She shook her head. “Well, at least we know your happy place now. Curled up in my underwear in a small, dark place. Turns out, the first word you learned was appropriate after all,” she told it quietly.

  She walked to the closet. “Because I am truly fucked. If you run on good feelings to be nice and docile…well feelings are not my strong point.” She searched through the clean stuff. “Unless anger counts.” She stood up a second and paused her looking, “I wonder what I could pull off with that one.” she wondered.

  She changed into another pair of black pants and a shirt suitable enough for work and slipped on her favorite blue and orange running shoes.

  She brushed her teeth twice trying to get rid of the gritty taste from the dust shower in the kitchen, and gargled for good measure. The entire time she was making herself take slow, deep breaths, occasionally checking on the troll.

  She slid carefully into her jacket, and felt the troll squirm around for a moment, adjusting in his sleep. Nah, that won’t attract attention, she thought as she watched her pocket move.

  She scooped up her keys out of the pinch bowl she made in the second grade, headed out the door of the guesthouse, and across the quiet patio of the bar. Estelle’s wouldn’t be hopping again until happy hour.