Magician's Mayhem

MAGICIAN’S MAYHEM

  Book 1 of the Elden Forest Series

  By

  R.S. Mollison-Read

  Copyright © 2012 by R. S. Mollison-Read

  https://rsmollisonread.com

  Cover art by Kat Long

  Copyright © 2012 by Kat Long

  https://sakurabeansupercutecrochet.blogspot.com

  Ebook Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold, or given away to other people. If you wish to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. Thank-you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  CHAPTER 1

  Tobin Wells had lived in Elden Forest for every one of his twenty years. As such, he was familiar with almost every aspect of the magical forest. He knew that the Magic Mole Mail Delivery Service was decidedly more expedient than any other delivery service, and that the best place to get bottled spells in his hometown of Belvedon, was at Mr. Jerkin’s Bottled Brews. Tobin knew that the castle was located in the southeast corner of the kingdom, about a five day walk from his home. On the first Tuesday of every month, Tobin was aware that long distance calls on the Magic Mirror Communication Network were free, and he knew that anyone who drank from the Elderberry River at midnight would turn into a fish for seven hours. But most of all, Tobin knew that, with very few exceptions, Elden Forest was full of odd things, and not dangerous ones.

  Which is why, when he was awoken one brilliantly sunny Tuesday morning, by the concussive force of a detonation, followed quickly by a startling shriek, cracking wood, and falling debris, he knew that something was terribly wrong. Tobin started up out of bed, quickly throwing a robe around his shoulders, and ran out onto his small porch to witness a scene of chaos, and devastation.

  His neat, white, picket fence had a great, gaping hole in it. Tobin’s garden had been utterly devastated; his prized geraniums uprooted, while the tall delphinium stalks had been crushed. Pieces of the formerly neat, white, picket fence, giant clods of dirt, and the remains of Tobin’s garden, were lying scattered across the yard. There in the middle of his meticulously pruned lawn, was a large smoking crater.

  Somewhat dazed, and not yet fully awake, Tobin stumbled over the detritus in his front yard, making his way to the edge of the crater. He took a moment to mourn the destruction of his prized geraniums, and then cautiously peered over the edge.

  Lying in the middle of the crater, looking rather stunned, was a mole, wearing the uniform of the Magic Mole Mail Delivery Service. The mole was clutching a very tattered looking package in his paw, and his velvety fur was liberally covered in dirt.

  “Good grief!” Tobin exclaimed, waving smoke away from his face. “Are you all right? What happened?”

  The mole sat up slowly, holding a paw to his head.

  “Uhhh,” he moaned, incoherently.

  Tobin slid down into the crater, creating a small landslide of dirt and rocks at the bottom.

  “What’s happening?” the mole slurred groggily.

  “I’m not entirely sure,” replied Tobin, as he took another look around the crater. There was nothing obvious to suggest the cause of the explosion. Tobin knew that nothing would get sorted out sitting in the crater, and the Mail Delivery mole was looking a little worse for wear.

  “Come in for a cup of tea, and we’ll try to figure this all out,” Tobin said, extending his hand to help the mole out of the crater.

  Slowly the mole limped to the house, holding his head in his paws, as Tobin surveyed his ruined garden. It was usually so pristine, and immaculate, Tobin tried not to think about how much work it was going to take to fix all the devastation.

  In no time at all, Tobin had bandaged up the mole’s forehead, where a rather sizable lump had formed, and had him sipping a cup of tea, while contentedly eating leftover oatmeal, chocolate-chip cookies.

  “What’s your name?” Tobin asked the mole, kindly.

  “Murphy,” the mole replied.

  “Murphy the Mole?” Tobin asked, raising his eyebrows. He did enjoy alliteration.

  Murphy looked at him suspiciously, “Is something funny?” he demanded.

  “Not at all,” Tobin replied, quickly. “My name is Tobin Wells.”

  Tobin took a seat in the chair directly opposite the table from Murphy, and poured himself a cup of tea. Absentmindedly, he stirred two lumps of sugar into his tea, pondering what to do next. Placing the spoon in the saucer he looked seriously at Murphy. “So, can you tell me what happened?”

  Murphy swallowed his bite of cookie before answering. “Well, I was on my way to the castle with a delivery, when all of a sudden the tunnel around me exploded. I was flung through the air, and the next thing I knew, I was laying in that giant hole in your front garden.”

  “Are you saying there’s a Magic Mole Mail Service tunnel, directly beneath my house?” Tobin asked, distracted by this revelation.

  “Yes,” Murphy replied, “It’s only a minor branch off the main thoroughfare, but it’s large enough for two tunnels, side by side.”

  “I never realized!”

  “Well yes, that’s the point isn’t it?” Murphy asked. “We’re supposed to be as unobtrusive as possible.”

  Tobin thought about this as he bit into a cookie.

  “What could have caused such an explosion then?” he asked the mole.

  “I really couldn’t tell you,” Murphy replied. “I’ve been delivering packages for the Magic Mole Mail Service for twenty years, and I’ve seen some strange things. But I’ve never been flung clean through a tunnel, into the air before.”

  The tattered package Murphy had been carrying was sitting on the table. Through the singed edges of the paper, Tobin could see that the package contained a copper orb, with intricate patterns in base relief all across the surface. The orb emitted a soft glow; like that of a firefly in the early evening.

  “Why is it glowing?” Tobin asked Murphy, gesturing to the package. Murphy looked curiously at the orb, and then back at Tobin, frowning.

  “It’s not glowing,” he replied.

  Startled, Tobin looked closely at the orb. It was indeed, still emitting a soft light. He reached out a hand to touch the package, but Murphy placed a protective paw around it.

  “I’m sorry, but company policy prohibits anyone except employees and recipients from handling packages.”

  Tobin nodded understandingly. “Of course. Do you know who the package was intended for?”

  “A magician at the castle. It didn’t specify which one.”

  “Really? I know someone at the castle. His name is Elbert, and he’s a magician’s assistant. Why don’t we contact the magicians and ask them how they would like us to proceed?” Tobin suggested.

  Murphy nodded in agreement. “I also need to make a report to Magic Mole Mail Delivery headquarters. This is a serious breach of protocol.”

  Tobin led Murphy to the study. It was a spacious room with large comfy armchairs, and a bay window overlooking Tobin’s backyard garden pond. A grand mirror in a mahogany frame sat on a stand in the corner of the room. Tobin had inherited the mirror from his grandparents, and knew he was fortunate to have such a lovely old mirror of his own. He felt along the side of the mirror for the knob that turned it on. The surface of the mirror gradually turned a misty grey colour, and the silhouette of a face appeared.

  “Who would you like to call?” A serene voice came from the mirror. There was a slight echo.

  Murphy climbed into one of the armchairs nearest to the mirror, and replied, “The Magic Mole Mail Delivery Service Crisis Line, please.”

  Tobin waited until the cloudy surface of the mirror dissol
ved into the velvety face of a rather officious mole, before closing the door to the study softy behind him. He wasn’t particularly interested in conversing with the Magic Mole Mail Delivery Service while still in his bathrobe.

  After a quick change into a plain blue tunic, and brown breeches, Tobin returned to the kitchen. He could still hear Murphy’s voice from his study, so he took a seat in one of the straight-backed kitchen chairs, poured himself another cup of tea, and absent mindedly took a bite of a cookie. Through the bay window out the front of his house he surveyed his ruined front garden. It was frustratingly devastated.

  Tobin had always liked things neat and orderly. In grade school, while all the other children took great delight in finding Magical Mushroom Caps to pop at recess, Tobin had been content to read a book in the crook of a tree. While his younger twin sisters had filled the house with loud conversation, and giggling, Tobin had quietly retreated to his room. It wasn’t that Tobin hadn’t been a happy child. In fact, he considered himself quite content. But the constant bustle and commotion of most people’s busy lives made him feel unnerved, and unfocused. It was for this reason that, at the age of sixteen, he had started working as the assistant to the town’s local historian. In the small brick library, it was quiet and serene, and Tobin could get lost for hours in his work. At home though, chaos reigned. His mother was a bright, and bubbly woman. Combined with the equally gregarious personalities of his younger sisters, it had been a recipe for disaster. Tobin had been saving his earnings from work since the age of eighteen, and just last year he had purchased a large parcel of land, just up the hill from Belvedon. There, with the help of a Construction Enchantment, and a Colouration Charm, he had built himself the neat little home in which he now resided. It was close enough to Belvedon that Tobin had everything he needed, but still secluded enough that Tobin could enjoy his rather solitary existence.

  Tobin grimaced as he remembered the explosive interruption to his solitude this morning.

  Running a hand through his thick, dark hair, he turned back to the table. The tattered package was still sitting in the middle of the table, and it was glowing. Tobin frowned at the package. The glow was faint, but he was at a loss to explain why Murphy refused to acknowledge the obvious glow. Perhaps it was a Magic Mole Mail Delivery Service prohibition to speculate about the contents of packages. There seemed to be quite a lot of rules associated with the delivery of mail.

  Tobin reached out a hand toward the package, to push some of the wrapping out of the way, to get a better look at the copper orb inside.

  “Well, that didn’t go very well,” Murphy said, exiting the study. His velvety nose wrinkled at Tobin’s hand reaching for the package, so Tobin deftly switched his motion and took the last cookie from the plate beside the package. Murphy’s face relaxed.

  “What did they have to say?” Tobin asked, as Murphy sat down across from him.

  “Well, they weren’t very happy,” Murphy replied, sighing. “They agreed with you, though, that we should contact the magicians at the castle. That’s protocol whenever there’s a... mishap. Although, frankly, Mister Gibbons told me that nothing like this has ever happened before.”

  “Not surprising,” Tobin answered.

  “Apparently a representative from the Magic Mole Mail Delivery Service Crisis Response Team is already enroute to the castle. They will meet me there to inspect the package, and consult with the magicians.”

  “Well, let’s contact the castle then,” Tobin replied, standing, and heading towards the study. “I know one of the magician’s assistants so I’ll ask for him for his advice.”

  The communication mirror in Tobin’s study was still a misty grey, from Murphy’s last call.

  “Connection to the castle, please,” Tobin instructed the mirror.

  “Who are you trying to reach?” the mirror asked.

  “I’d like to speak with Elbert Arberton, please, if he’s there,” Tobin answered.

  The faint silhouette faded, and Tobin could hear the bustling sounds of the castle in the background. They waited only moments before the misty scene cleared, and Tobin could see a chubby, bespectacled face peering into the mirror at him. Elbert was a very eager, and somewhat awkward young man with whom Tobin had gone to school. Despite Elbert’s bumbling demeanor, he had a big heart, and he had been most fortunate to become a magician’s assistant at the castle. Tobin was sure that given Elbert’s enthusiastic, and cheerful nature, he was an excellent assistant.

  “Hello Elbert,” Tobin replied, smiling to himself. “It’s been far too long.”

  “Tobin!” Elbert exclaimed. “So good to hear from you!”

  “So sorry that this needs to be a business call, Elbert. I’m afraid I have a situation over here.”

  Elbert frowned, his thick glasses sliding down his nose. “Really? What sort of situation?”

  Tobin recounted the strange events of the morning.

  “Oh dear, Tobin,” Elbert said, when Tobin had finished. “Oh dear, dear, dear. This is no good, no good at all. Please hold the line while I go and find Maven Thomson.”

  The image in the mirror faded into a swirling pattern of coloured lights, and a soft nondescript melody floated out from the mirror. Tobin leaned back in his armchair to wait for the magician.

  “Maven?” Murphy asked turning to Tobin.

  “Maven is the official title of the magicians,” Tobin replied. “As far as I know, most of the magicians don’t insist on the title, but some are more formal than others.”

  Murphy nodded thoughtfully.

  They sat in silence for a few minutes, and Tobin let his eyes wander around the comfortable study. Every conceivable space on his bookshelves was filled with a wide assortment of interesting and illuminating books. He was particularly proud of the hand written Elven edition of A History of Elden Forest, which rested in a place of honour on his desk, under a Conservation Shield. It had cost Tobin dearly, but it was one of his most prized possessions.

  Tobin turned his attention back to the mirror as the soft tune abruptly cut off. The swirling coloured lights began to clear, and resolved into the image of a decidedly grumpy looking man frowning into the mirror. He had dark hair flecked with silver, and large glasses perched on the end of a bulbous nose. His impressive eyebrows seemed to be well accustomed to their fearsome expression. Tobin could see Elbert hovering just over the magician’s shoulder.

  “Tobin Wells, is it?” Maven Thomson harrumphed loudly.

  “Yes, sir,” Tobin replied, exchanging a quick glance with Murphy. Apparently this was one of the more officious magicians.

  “Elbert has just relayed to me a rather sensational tale of exploding mail, and wayward moles,” the magician continued, his tone making clear his opinion of such obvious fabrications.

  From beside Tobin, Murphy snorted loudly in derision.

  “That’s ... mostly correct, sir,” Tobin replied curtly, insulted at this magician’s obvious insinuation that he was exaggerating the events of the morning. What possible purpose would they have in lying?

  “Well we’ve taken precautionary measures, so that the package can be delivered safely to the castle. Then we can get to the bottom of all of this nonsense.”

  “Oh?” Tobin asked. “What kind of precautions?”

  “Never mind the details,” Maven Thomson snapped, “It’s far too complicated to get into right now, but suffice it to say that we’re more than capable of preventing a simple detonation.”

  In the background, Elbert cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable.

  “It has been decided Tobin, that you and the ‘mail mole’ are to present yourself to the Magician’s Circle here at the castle immediately, so that we can sort this out,” Maven Thomson said, officiously.

  “Me? Why on earth do I need to come?” Tobin frowned.

  Maven Thomson’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “I was led to believe that this explosion occurred on your property, did it not?”

  “It did.�
��

  “Well then, you are involved in this kerfuffle, and you will accompany your mole friend through the Travelling Mirrors to the castle to sort it out!”

  “Very well, sir,” Tobin replied, quite ready to end the conversation. He had not had many encounters with magicians and he fervently hoped that they were not all so rude.

  As soon as the milky surface of the mirror faded, to reveal the ordinary reflective surface, Murphy turned to Tobin, frowning fiercely.

  “That was a very unpleasant man,” he growled. Tobin nodded in agreement.

  Together, Tobin and Murphy headed out to the Westside Belvedon Travelling Mirror on the far side of the town. Tobin purposely took the forest route, rather than going down the hill and in through the main town square. It was much easier to avoid awkward questions while travelling the forest route. The town square was full of people with nothing better to do than gossip, and gossip they would if Tobin strolled through town with a disheveled mole in the tattered uniform of the Magic Mole Mail Delivery Service.

  The Travelling Mirror sat in a small clearing, nestled among some Frestlebaum shrubs. Almost a foot taller than Tobin, the massive mirror was set in a ponderous mahogany frame, with ornate carvings of flowers and fairies etched all along the side. Tobin found it to be a rather garish design. He felt along the side of the mirror with his finger tips for the clever little knob, hidden inside the carving of a daisy. Pressing it into the frame, he heard a quiet click and the mirror’s reflection instantaneously became a misty grey.

  “Hello, and welcome to the Travelling Mirror Network,” came a dreamy, melodious voice, from the mirror. “Please state your preferred destination.”

  “The Elden Forest castle,” Tobin replied, formally.

  There was a long pause.

  “Do you have an appointment?” the voice asked. It no longer sounded at all dreamy.

  “No… I suppose it’s not technically an appointment, but we’ve been instructed to come to the castle by one of the magicians, about a matter of great importance,” Tobin replied, wondering why he was arguing with a mirror.

  “Well, usually you wouldn’t be allowed anywhere near the castle without an appointment. But no doubt, since you have a matter of great importance, you’ll be ushered in right away,” the voice now bordered on sarcasm. “Please wait one moment while I ascertain your Travel Status.”

  Swirling coloured lights replaced the misty surface, and the same soft melody Tobin had heard on their earlier call to the castle, drifted out from the mirror.

  Tobin turned to Murphy, and shook his head.

  “Nobody is being particularly helpful today.”

  “I think they don’t believe us,” Murphy replied, ruefully.

  The soft melody cut off abruptly, and the swirling coloured lights resolved into the misty grey surface.

  “Your Travel Request has been approved,” came the voice of the mirror. It sounded dreamy again, without a hint of sarcasm.

  Tobin smiled slightly in amusement.“Thank-you so much. You’ve been so very helpful.”

  Ushering Murphy forward, Tobin watched as the mole stepped through the mirror to the castle. Once Murphy could no longer be seen, Tobin stepped through the misty grey surface of the magic mirror.

  Instantly he felt a searing heat envelop him, as though he had entered a massive stove. Someone, or something, wailed loudly into his ears. Tobin twisted and turned, trying to escape the sound, and the increasing heat. Tobin had travelled through the Travelling Mirror Network on several occasions before, although never to the castle, and this was unlike any of his previous journeys. Transiting through the Travelling Mirror generally took mere seconds, but Tobin felt as though the trip went on for minutes. Something was not right. Tobin felt trapped and anxious. There was no way out of the Travelling Mirror in the middle of a trip, as far as he knew. Trying to stretch his hands forward, Tobin suddenly realized that he was unable to move, his entire body was frozen in the position he had assumed while stepping through the mirror. It was terrifying.

  Suddenly with a loud snap, he stumbled through the mirror, disoriented. It felt as though he had been doused in cold water. He could hear the wild beating of his heart in the sudden silence. Gulping loudly, he breathed in deeply, trying to calm himself.

  Turning slowly, Tobin surveyed the room in which he had arrived after his torturous trip through the Travelling Mirror. It was a large room with vaulted ceilings where Maven Thomson and Elbert were standing to one side, waiting with Murphy. They were staring at Tobin in confusion. Tobin turned to look at the troublesome mirror he’d just travelled through. The entire back wall was the mirror. From floor to ceiling it stood, quietly shining in the morning sunshine, which streamed through the large windows. A most impressive sight, but nothing about the mirror gave any hint as to why he had had such a troublesome transit.

  “What happened?” he asked, his voice shaking slightly.

  “What happened?” Maven Thomson repeated the question, raising his eyebrow at Tobin in disbelief. “You travelled through this magical Travelling Mirror,” he said slowly, as though explaining it to a child. “And then you made a complete spectacle of yourself, gasping for breath, and wandering around.”

  Tobin frowned at the magician. He was seriously beginning to dislike Maven Thomson’s condescension and dismissive attitude.

  “It was so strange,” Tobin said. He could still feel the searing heat. Stretching out his arm in front of him, he examined his tunic. Surely there must be scorch marks on his clothing from the intense heat. But nothing was there. Tobin glanced back up to see disbelief on both Murphy and Maven Thom’s faces.

  “It was scorching hot in there! I felt as though my whole body was on fire!” he said, almost to himself. He couldn’t have imagined all of the chaos in the mirror, it had felt so real, and yet there wasn’t a mark on him. How was that possible? “The loud wailing? What was that? Did that trip feel strange to you?” Tobin inquired of Murphy, but he could see doubt across the mole’s velvety face.

  The mole raised his eyebrows and looked at Tobin, considering. “You know, I’m beginning to think you have an overactive imagination.”

  Tobin sighed, frustrated at their disbelief, as a sliver of doubt crept into his mind. Had he just imagined the whole thing?

  A sudden glint of light caught his eye. The tattered package in Murphy’s hand was glowing even more brightly than before.

  “Hey! The orb is glowing again!” he exclaimed, pointing at the orb.

  Murphy held the package up, looking at the orb sceptically.

  “Why, so it is,” Maven Thom exclaimed, staring at the copper orb through the tattered edges of the package. Murphy’s sceptical expression changed to a frown as he stared at the package.

  “I still don’t see a glow,” he said softly. Tobin was baffled. The glow of the orb was getting brighter by the second, and it began to pulse, as though it were alive. How could Murphy possibly not see it?

  The tempo of the pulsing orb quickened, and the glow became so bright that Tobin had to squint to look at it. “That doesn’t look good,” he warned.

  “No it does not,” Maven Thomson agreed, his cold arrogance gone, and replaced by real concern. “I think we should –”

  The orb flashed in a blinding light. Tobin threw a hand up to shield his eyes. He felt something ripple through him like a shockwave.

  “CRACK!!!”

  The horrifying sound of breaking glass, and a thunderous tirade of splintering pieces hitting the floor, stunned them all. Tobin spun around in shock. The massive Travelling Mirror, through which Tobin and Murphy had so recently travelled, shattered into hundreds of tiny pieces that cascading down the wall, and onto the floor in an enormous pile of jagged edges. The hall was still as everyone stared at the mirror in shocked silence.

  “Oh dear. Oh dear, dear, dear,” whispered Elbert.