The Lost Mage Page 5

  Nora stared at him without saying a word.

  Dude, I don’t think she’s buying it.

  “Nora, listen, I know this sounds crazy, but seriously, I was in my world one minute and then here, surrounded by a bunch of young men dressed in dark robes, the next. They thought I was some sort of demon.”

  “A demon? So, now we’ve got demons?”

  Darakin rolled his eyes at her naiveté. “Now? No. They’re not new, Nora, there have always been demons, I’m just not one of them.”

  Nora leaned back against the couch and sighed, muttering to herself, “Why do I always get mixed up with the nut jobs?”

  Darakin sat next to her. “Nut jobs?”

  “Crazy people. Nuts means crazy.”

  “Ah. You have used that expression several times. I’m not crazy, but I know it must seem that way to you. If it helps, being in a different dimension where nothing works the way I’m used to it working makes me feel like everyone around me is a little off, too.”

  Nora laughed and stood. “I guess. Let’s go get that cat some food.”

  Yay! I mean, yes please, that would be nice. I haven’t eaten in days.

  “You ate last night.”

  Well, I’m hungry again so some of those cans would be good.

  Darakin laughed. “Mrowley approves of your plan.”

  “I thought he would.”

  Darakin recalled the clerk’s conversation from yesterday when he bought cat food. “Oh, wait. Do I need a tinfoil hat?”

  Nora choked. “What?”

  “The store clerk yesterday asked me where my tinfoil hat was. He said I needed it for the gamma rays.”

  “He was having a go at you, Darakin. He was implying that you were crazy.”

  “That certainly seems to be a theme here. Everyone I’ve met so far has called me crazy.” The mage’s shoulders slumped.

  “Sorry,” Nora apologized. She walked to the door with Darakin following. With her hand on the knob, she turned back to Mrowley and shook her finger at him. “And no reading my diary or anything while we’re out.”

  Ha! Even if I could read, which I can’t because those symbols make no sense to me, how am I supposed to turn the pages with no opposable thumbs? I suppose I could spear them with a claw and turn them over.

  At the cat’s meowing, Nora turned to Darakin with a questioning eye.

  “Oh, he’s lamenting his lack of thumbs and trying to determine how he’d turn the pages, but he can’t read so don’t worry. At least he says he can’t.”

  “It’s okay; I don’t really have a diary anyway. Let’s go.”

  “Okay.”

  As they were walking out the door, Mrowley spoke up. Dude? She really did say she liked you.

  Chapter Seven

  Nora led Darakin down to the street towards the neighborhood market. Darakin, recalling that market doors open magically and wishing to appear acclimated to this world, walked straight into the door, crashing against it with a thud.

  “Don’t you open doors where you’re from?” Nora laughed.

  Darakin stumbled back, holding his nose. “But the door at the market I went to yesterday opened by magic at my arrival. I assumed that all market doors worked the same way.”

  Nora laughed so hard that tears were streaming down her face. “Oh, I have to keep you around for comic relief! It’s not magic, it’s technology. And not all stores have automatic doors. There’s usually a black floor mat with a sensor in front of the door, but not always. You could always look for a sticker on the door that says, ‘automatic door’.”

  Darakin stared at the laughing Nora. Her face was glowing. At that moment he realized that she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and Mrowley had said that she liked him … and he’d just made a fool of himself in front of her.

  “Fine,” Darakin said with indignation. He pushed against the door and entered the market, ignoring the stares of the patrons and workers who had turned at the sound of the large man smashing into the door.

  Nora picked up a small basket at the front of the store and walked through the aisles, selecting a few items to buy. Darakin also picked up a basket and put several cans of cat food into it.

  They made their way to the register. Nora paid for her items and Darakin stepped forward, placing the cans on the counter as he’d seen Nora do with her boxes and cans.

  “That’ll be four sixty seven.”

  “Four sixty seven what?”

  “Um, like dollars.”

  Nora, a smile on her face, stepped forward and pulled a bill from Darakin’s stack and handed it to the cashier. “We’ll have to go over money back at home, I can see.”

  “Could you? That would be really helpful.”

  “Sure, let’s go back to my place and see what mischief your cat has gotten into.”

  “Why would you think that? Oh yeah, you’re probably right.”

  As they walked back shoulder to shoulder, each was acutely aware of the other’s physical proximity.

  There were mutual sighs of relief when they reached Nora’s apartment. She opened the door and walked to the small kitchen area.

  “What the hell? Damn it.”

  “What’s wrong?” Darakin ran to her side and stopped short. The cream container was knocked over and the liquid was pooled on the counter and running down the front of the cabinets. The floor was covered in sugar from the bag that had apparently fallen off the counter. The garbage can was knocked over and trash was strewn about the floor. Several incriminating paw prints led out of the kitchen toward the living room. The two followed the trail of cream and sugar through the living room and into Nora’s bedroom.

  There on the bed sat Mrowley busy licking his paws.

  “CAT!” Darakin yelled.

  Mrowley jumped. What?

  “What happened?”

  What do you mean?

  “There’s cream and sugar all over the place.”

  Oh that? Don’t worry, I cleaned up.

  “You cleaned up?” Darakin sputtered. “But there’s garbage all over the floor!”

  Yep, you’re welcome.

  “What?” Darakin cried in outrage. “What in the hells happened, cat?”

  Well, I was thirsty and I noticed that Nora left the cream container out for me so I jumped to the counter to have some, but she forgot to leave it open. You know I have that thumb problem, so I was trying to pry it open with my claws when it fell over.

  “Okay, but how did the sugar end up on the floor?”

  Oh, there was a bang or something and I got startled and jumped.

  “A bang or something? Was it the cream landing on the floor? As in the container that you knocked over?”

  Dunno. Maybe. When I landed, that bag of sugar was sort of in my way and it fell off the counter.

  “If everything fell on the floor, why are you so sticky?”

  Because I had to have my drink on the floor and there was no way to avoid all of that sugar.

  “But how did the garbage end up all over the floor?”

  I tried to jump over the mess and onto the garbage can, but it fell over. But that was good ‘cause I used the garbage to cover the mess. The cat returned to his bath.

  Darakin turned to Nora. “I’m really sorry. I’ll go clean it up.”

  “Not so fast! What did he have to say for himself?”

  “He thought you left the cream out for him but forgot to leave the container open so he had to claw it open. It fell, he jumped and then he hit the sugar bag, which fell off the counter. He tried to jump onto the garbage but the can fell over so he used the contents to cover the mess. He thought he was being helpful.”

  “He thought I left the cream out for him, did he? And spreading the garbage was helpful?”

  “Well, that’s what he said.”

  “No more jumping on my counters, little kitty. Do you understand?”

  The cat stared but said nothing.

  “Darakin? Ask him if he understands.”
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  “Mrowley, Nora doesn’t want you on her countertops. Do you understand?”

  Sure, sure. But she’ll need to leave my cream somewhere else then.

  Darakin ignored that last remark. “He understands. And he’s sorry.”

  Hey! That’s not what I said.

  Nora’s face showed disbelief. “Somehow I doubt that. It’s a good thing he’s so cute.”

  “Oh, now that’s going to go to his head.”

  Well, what do you know? She thinks I’m cute. Again, Mrowley did the cat equivalent of blushing.

  “I’m going to clean up that mess and then I’ll make us some sandwiches for lunch.”

  “Sandwiches?”

  “Really? You don’t know what a sandwich is?”

  Darakin looked apologetic and shrugged.

  “It’s meat between pieces of bread. You really didn’t have anything like that?”

  “Oh. Yes, we did, but we called it … well, I don’t think the word translates.”

  “Whatever. It’s called a sandwich here, okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” She left to clean the kitchen.

  “Cat, I thought you were worried about having a place to stay?”

  Well, of course I am. A warm place to sleep with a box and food is hard to come by.

  “Then why would you make such a mess?”

  Mess? What mess? I was just trying to eat. It’s what I’ve always done. And like I said, I cleaned up.

  “Covering messes up with other messes is not a human’s idea of cleaning up. You’re not on your own anymore. It’s Nora’s place and we need to behave while we’re her guests, okay?”

  Yeah, yeah, okay.

  “Good, now I’ve managed to … score you some more cat food. Are you hungry?”

  Actually, I have to finish cleaning my fur. Maybe we could save that for after my bath?

  “Fine.” Darakin went to help Nora with the mess. He found her kneeling in the kitchen, sponging the sugar mess from the floor. She’d pulled her long, auburn hair back, but a stray strand had come loose and hung in front of her face. She used the back of her hand to push it out of the way in a manner that Darakin found irresistible. He knelt next to her and used some of the paper towels she’d torn off to help with the cleaning.

  She smiled at him and kept scrubbing. Their hands touched and they both stopped their movement, just content to let their skin rest against the others for that brief moment.

  “Well, that’s good enough for now. But I’ll be mopping it again after we eat.” She stood and pulled out the loaf of bread to make sandwiches.

  She laughed again at Darakin’s amazement when she pulled the pre-sliced bread from the bag. “Don’t they sell bread at home?”

  “Yes, but it’s … different. I mean, it’s not cut or so … perfect looking.”

  “Well, that’s a machine for you. Makes everything to spec.”

  “Spec?”

  “Specification. These loaves aren’t handmade. It’s all done by machines.”

  “Your world seems driven by its machines.”

  “You might say that.” She finished putting some deli meat on the sandwich. “Mayo? Oh, forget it; I’m just putting it on.” She spread mayonnaise on the bread, cut the sandwiches and took the two plates into the living room. “Come sit.”

  Darakin sat on the sofa, leaving some space between them so he didn’t seem too forward.

  “Oops.” Nora got up and opened the cabinet against the wall to reveal her television.

  Darakin’s sharp intake of breath indicated his surprise. “You have a magic box, too?”

  “Magic box? Oh, you mean the TV? It’s short for television. No TV where you’re from, either, huh?”

  “No, even our most powerful magi have not managed to shrink men and their environment and put it all in a box. This is magic beyond imagining.”

  “It’s not magic, Darakin. It’s more technology. Do you have photographs in your world?”

  “No.”

  “A photo is like a picture but done by a machine.” She picked up a picture from the coffee table to show him. “It makes an exact image of what’s in front of it. The TV takes moving pictures and projects them to television sets with the right kind of antenna. We turn on the TV and see what they’re projecting.” She picked up the remote and pressed a button to demonstrate.

  Darakin’s eyes opened in awe at the power of the small remote. He shook his head, having trouble taking it all in.

  “You don’t need to understand it to enjoy it, Darakin. Just pay attention to the story and you’ll see.”

  Darakin settled back, allowing himself to be drawn into the complicated story unfolding on the screen before him. After some time, Mrowley ventured in and snuggled into the small space between the two, purring as he received pets from both sides. The three of them were soon fast asleep.

  The television show ended and a movie started. The volume at which they’d been watching the quiet love story was too high for the war movie, and the three of them jumped at the sound of automatic gunfire.

  Mrowley leapt onto a nearby table knocking a potted plant to the floor.

  “What’s that?” Darakin asked in fear.

  Nora grabbed the remote and lowered the volume. “Sorry, sometimes the noise level between shows isn’t consistent. It’s gunfire.”

  Darakin stared at the screen, mesmerized. “I’ve never seen a gun that could fire so quickly.”

  “Yeah, if there’s one thing our society is good at, it’s inventing new deadly weapons.” She looked at her carpet, which was now covered in dirt from the potted plant. “Now I’ll have to vacuum this mess.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means to clean the carpets.”

  “Oh.”

  With everything calmed down, Mrowley went back to the sofa to lie next to Darakin. Nora took the vacuum cleaner out of the closet and plugged it in.

  She used her foot to turn it on and Mrowley and Darakin both leapt off the couch in fear.

  No, it’s the cat eating machine! Help! Darakin, don’t let it get me. Mrowley raced around the apartment in a panic.

  Darakin stared at the loud machine and backed away.

  Nora looked at the fear in his eyes and laughed. She turned it off. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “It’s loud.”

  “Yes, well it is loud, but it’s a whole lot easier than trying to sweep dirt off a carpet. What’s Mrowley’s problem?”

  “He says that it’s a cat eating machine.”

  “Cat eating machine? Where does he come up with this stuff?”

  No, Darakin, really. When you look in the belly of one of those things, you’ll find what’s left of a cat.

  “He says if you look in its belly, you’ll find the remains of a cat.”

  Nora gave Darakin a confused look for a minute. Suddenly, understanding lit her features. She laughed.

  “You silly cat.” She laughed harder for a minute.

  What’s so funny? I don’t like being laughed at. Darakin, tell her to stop.

  “What’s so funny?” Darakin asked.

  “The only thing it eats is dirt off the floor, and that includes all the fur that the cat sheds. So when you empty it, a big wad of fur comes out. But the opening is too small to suck a cat in. See?” She held up the hose for him to see.

  Mrowley poked his head out from under the sofa for a minute. At the sight of the vacuum cleaner, he ducked back under.

  “How does it eat the dirt off the floor?” Darakin asked.

  “Well, it uses suction to, um, okay, I don’t know exactly,” she said in frustration. “I’m not an engineer. Just come here and I’ll show you.”

  She turned the vacuum on again causing Mrowley, who’d settled beneath the sofa to run out and do a lap around the room again before running into the bedroom.