Magic Curse: A YA Portal Fantasy (Legends of Llenwald Book 2) Read online

  Magic Curse

  Legends of Llenwald, Book #2

  DM Fike

  Avalon Labs LLC

  Copyright © 2021 DM Fike

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  ASIN: B08S5N9873

  Cover design by: Avalon Labs LLC

  For Mom, who knows (and helped create) the original Vimp.

  BOOKS BY DM FIKE

  Magic of Nasci Nature Wizard Series

  Chasing Lightning

  Breathing Water

  Running into Fire

  Shattering Earth

  Soaring in Air

  Legends of Llenwald YA Portal Fantasy Series

  Magic Portal

  Magic Curse

  Magic Prophecy

  CHAPTER 1

  “DON’T MOVE, OR I’ll shoot!”

  Avalon stared out from her oversized black hoodie down the inside of a double barrel shotgun. She let go of her backpack strap, its weight pulling her down as she raised her hands in surrender. A weathered man in a plaid shirt and overalls held the trigger, a ray of sunlight through the forest canopy hitting his dirty baseball cap. His mouth curled into an angry snarl.

  “Can’t you read?” He pointed to a black sign with orange letters at the bottom of the hill. “‘No Trespassing.’”

  A chill not connected to the autumn breeze ran up her spine. No matter how many times she’d done this, it was never easy facing the wrong end of a firearm.

  “I came to ask you some questions,” Avalon said.

  “I don’t like anyone on my property.” He inched his gun forward.

  Avalon stifled a sigh. Every single interview started off like this. “Let me show you who I am.”

  Slowly, she bent her fingers around her hoodie, pulling the fabric back away from her freckled face. Frizzy red hair popped out like springs, bouncing in a gentle autumn breeze. Her green eyes pierced his.

  The gun faltered. “You look familiar.”

  “My name is Avalon Benton,” she said. “I went to Saluzyme for Miasmis treatments.”

  Just uttering the word made Avalon’s mouth taste sour. She never told any of the family members of Miasmis patients the truth: that their daughters, wives, and sisters had not come down with a hereditary disease but had been experimented on, just like her own mother. Saluzyme found victims through gene identification to determine whether potential subjects would be viable for “treatment.” Once they selected a candidate, Saluzyme injected its victims with an ancient enchanted artifact called the Jaded Sprite Statue. The injections caused symptoms like ugly spontaneous bruising, splitting headaches, and blackout seizures. Saluzyme then combed patient results for someone who might show signs of magical powers. When the patient’s health inevitably began to fail, they would inject more of the substance into the victim until it eventually killed them. All the while claiming to be saviors.

  Avalon swallowed the painful truth in her throat. “I had the same illness as your daughter Maranth.”

  The weathered man lowered the gun. “You’re Dr. Benton’s daughter. I remember your picture on his desk. Your father talked a lot about you during AEG scans. The girl who beat the odds.” A pained expression crossed his face. “You gave us hope.”

  Avalon held back the familiar sting of tears. Her father had worked at Saluzyme, ostensibly to find a cure to save his ailing wife and daughter, two of the first victims of this horrendous scheme. But had her father known Saluzyme’s true intent? Avalon never got an answer from the mastermind behind Saluzyme, Dr. James Skog. Now he was dead, along with her father. They had taken the secret to their graves.

  “I was hoping we could talk,” Avalon said.

  The man hesitated for only a moment, then threw his gun back over his shoulder. “Why not?” He extended one rough hand. “Name’s Xant.”

  “Nice to meet another Aossi, Xant.” Avalon returned the handshake.

  Xant gaped in surprise. “You know about Aossi? But you look human.”

  “I am.”

  * * *

  Xant led Avalon on a half-mile hike into the Klamath Forest to his mountain cabin. His home had fought a battle with time and lost. The sickly pink trim paint peeled off in flakes. One window had been boarded over with rusty nails. Avalon had to step over roof shingles as they navigated across the knee-high grass toward the front door.

  The interior of the house fared little better. An aging dining table with a metal rim sat next to faded yellow cabinets. Where the linoleum ended, the living room began, all part of one giant room. Two couches sagged under the weight of cardboard boxes, both facing a wood burning stove that radiated heat against the cooler temperatures outside.

  “I apologize for the mess,” Xant said, moving a wooden crate of jars from a cracked vinyl chair. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

  “No worries,” Avalon said.

  Xant placed a tea kettle on top of the woodstove to boil water. He took off his ballcap, revealing unkempt gray hair and the tips of his pointed ears, a telltale sign of someone with Aossi heritage. He offered her a place to sit on a rickety folding chair before he plopped down.

  He grunted as he shifted his weight to get comfortable. “Tell me, how can I help Dr. Benton’s child?”

  “I’m conducting interviews on behalf of Saluzyme.” Avalon had found that this lie helped gain instant trust with Miasmis patient families. They were eager to help the people who had tried to “save” their loved ones.

  Xant cocked his head in confusion. “I thought the company had shut down.”

  “We’ve had some setbacks. Some of our records were lost in a fire.” Another lie based on a truth: the Saluzyme office had burned twice in the last few years.

  Once because Avalon herself had set it on fire.

  “I heard about your father’s death,” Xant said, bowing his head.

  Avalon’s lips set in a grim line. Her father had died in the other Saluzyme fire. Labeled an accident by authorities, Avalon now wondered if something else had been going on to cause the fire itself.

  Avalon retrieved her notepad and pen from her backpack, flipping through pages and pages of notes she had already taken on other Miasmis patients. She found the first blank page and wrote “#9 Maranth” at the top, next to the October date. Then she wrote “Father Xant” underneath.

  “Where are you from?” she asked.

  “The Wazan Forest,” Xant leaned his hip against the wall as he waited for hot water. “You’ve heard of it?”

  Avalon shook her head.

  “It’s not far from human civilization, nice moderate weather. All four seasons. Fall is beautiful there. Here’s nice.” He gestured out the window toward a Douglas fir. “But it stays so green. No matter how many years pass, I miss the purples and blues of a Wazan autumn.”

  “You’re from Llenwald?” Avalon asked, trying not to let disappointment sneak into her voice. So far, everyone she had interviewed was not from Earth.

  Xant’s tone turned defensive. “I may not wield earth magic, but I’m an elf, through and through.”

  Avalon held up an apologetic hand. “I didn’t mean to imply anything.”

  Xant immediately backed down. “My apologies. Not wielding magic was one of the main reasons Maranth and
I left. Almost all boulder elves have some sort earth magic, even if it’s just moving pebbles around a little. But not us. We would always be second class citizens without it.”

  “Miasmis never gave your daughter any new magic?” Avalon prodded.

  “Nay,” Xant said, startled by the possibility. “Did it for others?”

  “Yes.” At least, it did for me, Avalon thought.

  “That would have been one silver lining in that curse of a disease,” Xant said. “I came here hoping to give my girl a fresh start, not watch her wither away.”

  “How long have you been here on Earth?”

  “About twelve years.” The tea kettle whistled. Xant got up to throw a few tea bags inside. “One of about twenty Aossi. I still keep in touch with the others, but they like their privacy, same as me.”

  Everyone else she had met so far had always lived in seclusion, preferring to keep to themselves like Xant. “Did you consider living in Emerged Falls?”

  “With the Guardians?” Xant scoffed. “All those lofty ideals and nowhere to put them. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate humans, but we’ll never peacefully coexist on Llenwald. The only reason this place works is because humans don’t know we’re here.”

  “Did Nobody bring you here?” Avalon asked, referring to her former gremlin companion. She considered him something of an ally, possibly a friend, but he had also kept a lot of dangerous secrets.

  Xant’s shook his head. “Nay, Bedwyr brought me here. He’s the one who suggested that Maranth should get tested for Miasmis. Apparently, many refugee girls contract it.” He swallowed hard air. “I was devastated when she was diagnosed.”

  The tea now steeped, Xant poured two cups for each of them. He leaned against the wall instead of sitting back down. “I never met your mother, but your father was a human. Was she Aossi?”

  “No.” Avalon took a timid sip of the tea. It tasted bitter without sugar, but Avalon knew better than to ask. Aossi rarely used it.

  Xant scratched his head. “Is it common for humans to have Miasmis?”

  “Apparently not.” Avalon clapped her notepad shut. “Thank you for your time.”

  “I’m not sure how much I helped.”

  “You’ve been very helpful.” Avalon at least had a pattern now, better than what she had before she interviewed the Miasmis patients. As she made for the door, her toe bumped the wooden crate full of jars Xant had cast aside. She noticed a familiar name on one and reached inside to snag it.

  “’Digs Apothecary. Hagerman, Idaho,’” she read.

  “Best salve you can get on Earth. Made by a dwarven healer.”

  “I’ve heard of him,” Avalon muttered. “Do you mind if I write down the address?”

  “Go ahead,” Xant shrugged.

  “Thanks,” she said. “For the tea and the questions.”

  “Anything for a Benton. My family owes you a debt.”

  No, Avalon thought as she flipped the hoodie back up over her cheeks. My family owes you.

  CHAPTER 2

  AVALON STOOD INSIDE a temple-like room with high ceilings and ornate tile flooring. Marble columns lined a path toward a massive metal gate barring an open archway. Torches flickering emerald green flame beckoned her forward.

  Dread smothered Avalon like a blanket. She didn’t know why, but she knew she should not touch that gate. She fled in the opposite direction, her footsteps becoming a macabre stopwatch. Tick. Tock. Tick.

  Come. A voice whispered in her ear.

  Shivering, Avalon halted and flipped back around. Somehow, she hadn’t moved an inch despite having taken so many steps.

  She couldn’t run away from the gate.

  Although she didn’t want to, Avalon straightened to face the ominous bars head on. An impulse forced one foot in front of her. Then another. A warm breeze hit her, having the eerie effect of chilling her to the core. Something rustled on the other side of the gate, its ghostly form swishing past the crossing bars. Avalon heard someone shouting at her to stop, echoing across a great distance.

  Yards away, the rustling intensified, the creature beyond the gate hissing at her approach. It slammed against the door, rattling Avalon’s teeth.

  Her instincts pushed her forward, despite her emotions screaming otherwise. She felt catatonic as she lurched forward. Her heels dragged, body unnaturally heavy, but little by little, something kept her moving toward whatever was throwing itself against barrier.

  Come!

  Avalon jerked awake, covered in sweat, heart still beating wildly. It took her a few seconds to get her bearings. She had parked the old gray sedan at a rest area, not far away from her interview with Xant. Weary from traveling, she’d left the road before she caused an accident. Parking in a nearly empty lot next to two drab buildings—one for each gender—the semi-steady stream of cars whistling down the road nearby had lulled her to sleep.

  But sleep often brought the nightmare. She scrambled to lift her shirt sleeve, but no splotchy green bruise indicated that her Miasmis had returned.

  Avalon slumped into the cracked vinyl seat. At first Avalon hoped it was a fluke, but the nightmares were becoming more frequent since the last attack at Saluzyme. Avalon wished she could dismiss it as her subconscious creating fears, but she’d had strange dreams before that hinted at the power inside her, the power James… no, Bedwyr had forced into her.

  And that ghostly figure? It had to be Braellia, a previous incarnation of the Child of the Statue, who hated her very existence.

  Shaking, Avalon fought back tears. She wouldn’t indulge in them. Instead, she wrapped her arms around herself, her fingers digging into the black hoodie that she wore more as much for comfort as for warmth against the chill air.

  Kay’s hoodie.

  The fairy knight had only worn it for a short time on Earth, but it was all Avalon had left of him. Her mind knew he was where he should be, back in Emerged Falls with his people, nursing his childhood sweetheart back to health from a horrific wound. Avalon had pushed them through a portal back to Llenwald with the last of her magical powers, and she would never regret that decision. It had been the right thing to do.

  But her heart ached remembering him. Kay had protected her against people who sought her power. Power that her nightmares suggested she might still have. She wished desperately that he could be here, protecting her, but he loved someone else.

  She had to let it go. Let him go.

  She needed to think.

  Avalon grabbed her notepad off a cardboard box in the passenger seat, skimming the scant notes she’d taken at Xant’s. She tightened her grip on the pen, her hand turning white. It was the same familiar story, told by all the other eight families. Bedwyr had brought them over as part of his Aossi network, helping many leave behind unfortunate situations—they had lost everything in the Second Reformation, were outcasts within their tribe, or found forbidden intertribal love. They had no place on Llenwald. Instead, they carved out a better life on Earth.

  And without fail, in every single interview, they had been asked to submit women—

  daughters, sisters, and wives—for Miasmis testing. Testing that actually meant experimentation as Bedwyr searched for the Child of the Statue, a being that would give him unlimited access to all five magical elements. Experimentation that would eventually kill all those women.

  All but her. Avalon. She and her mom were the only ones that didn’t fit the pattern. Her mother and father were human, had always lived on Earth. After her mother had been diagnosed with Miasmis, her father shifted his career, using his engineering doctorate to help design better lab equipment for Saluzyme.

  Or so her father had claimed.

  Avalon sighed, drumming her fingers on the box that contained her father’s work notes and equipment. She stared at the list of names she had interviewed, each one of them now crossed off.

  She had no more names to investigate.

  “Caw! Caw!”

  The bird’s cry startled her. Sitting up straight
and peering out the windshield, she saw a raven circling overhead. For a second, she held her breath.

  “Nobody?”

  But no, this bird was normal sized, not the oversized raven that Nobody morphed into. Two other ravens joined him in midair, cawing at each other, until they flew off together in a flurry, disappearing into the dimming evening sky.

  There was no denying Nobody would be out there, looking for her. His sister remained trapped somewhere within Avalon’s subconsciousness. The thought had crossed her mind more than once in the last two months that maybe she should reach out to him. Teaming up with Nobody, though, was a bit like playing poker with a conman. He never gave away his hand, and in the end, he’d probably win by cheating. And it would cost you a fortune.

  Still, despite all his flaws, Avalon did trust Nobody on some level. Maybe it was his dedication to finding his sister or how he treated some honest people. Somewhere beneath his trickster image, she recognized someone in pain.

  Just like her.

  Wheels crunched on the pavement. A county police officer pulled up beside her. Being a wanted fugitive in a neighboring state, her spine stiffened as he got out of the car. The officer paid her no mind, though, ambling into the men’s restroom.

  Really, at this point, Avalon did not have many options. She had run out of Saluzyme leads. She had no clue where Nobody might be, but she knew who to ask. Trying to appear as nonchalant as possible, she twisted the key in the ignition. She pulled out of the parking lot and back onto the narrow highway, away from the forest, aiming for the semi-arid desert of southern Idaho. At least she’d gotten enough rest that she could drive through the night.

  * * *

  An hour after dawn the next morning, Avalon drove past the baseball diamond in Hagerman City Park. No one sat in the bleachers, no children played in the grass field beyond. Not even a jogger ran along State Street, the main road cutting the town in half. Only the occasional car zipped past, eager to speed through the unremarkable Idaho town and onto larger areas of civilization.