The Lost Mage (13 page)

“That’s very kind of you, Nora.”

“It’s nothing.” Nora blushed, hoping that he didn’t realize how much she wanted him to stay with her.

Chapter Eleven

“I know. Let’s go to a movie,” Nora said as they walked along the street. Before Darakin could respond, she added, “I know, I know, you probably don’t know what that is. Well, it’s like the TV, you know the magic box, but on a much bigger screen. Trust me, you’ll like it.”

“Okay,” Darakin said.

“It’s good that it’s still early; we’ll get matinee prices.”

Nora turned and headed toward the local movie theatre. When they stood in front of the ticket booth, she looked at the listings to make a selection. The first movie was a romantic comedy.
No way,
she thought.
That’s a date movie. He hasn’t asked me out and I’m not going to be the first one to make dating overtures.

The second movie was a big-budget science fiction picture about robots taking over the world.
Christ,
she thought,
he freaked out about a train. I think robot overlords would send him over the edge.

The third movie was an animated children’s picture.
There’s no way in hell I’m going to try to explain to him that the cartoon mouse isn’t real or magical
.

The next choice was a disaster flick about a flood destroying much of the world.
Elements destroying the world? With his Elemental War thing? Pass.

The last option was a fantasy picture that promised beautiful, medieval landscapes and sorcery.
Now that seems right up his alley.

Nora stepped up to the window and bought two tickets, before leading Darakin into the theatre’s dark interior. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as the mage stared in wonder at the candy counter and the video monitors that were showing previews.

She also saw the other women stare at Darakin’s figure in appreciation. She might not have any real claim on him, but she felt possessive anyway and took his arm.

They found seats in the darkened theatre and waited for the feature to start.

“What are we waiting for? Do you have to hit the magic box button?” Darakin asked.

“Shhh!” Nora hissed as several other patrons turned to look at them.

“Why?”

“Because, you have to keep your voice down in a movie theatre.”

“But why?” More people were now staring at them, their faces clearly indicating that they hoped he would be quiet during the movie.

“Because you might disturb others.”

“From what? There’s nothing going on.”

“Please, whisper to me, if you need to. And there is no remote control for this, the workers here will start the movie in a few minutes – at the posted time.”

“Oh,” Darakin whispered loudly.

Nora rolled her eyes, thinking that perhaps this wasn’t a good idea at all. “Now remember, nothing you’ll see on the screen is real. It’s all done with special effects and computers.”

At that moment, the lights in the theatre dimmed and the screen came to life, causing Darakin to jump.

Nora tried to keep her patience as she whispered to him that the ads and messages in the beginning were not what they were there to see. She breathed a sigh of relief when the main feature started.

She stole furtive glances at the mage to see how he was reacting to the film. He watched without comment until the dragon appeared. The beast flew towards the camera spewing fire and burning everything in its path. He ducked and then sat up in relief when the dragon disappeared from the camera’s view. He leaned toward Nora.

“In my realm, dragons can’t summon fire anymore. This would never happen.”

His loud remark caused several patrons to turn and look at them. “Lady, can you shut the wacko up?”

“Sorry,” Nora said to them. She turned to Darakin. “Hush. You have to whisper. On second thought, just be quiet. We’ll talk after the movie.”

“Humph.” Darakin folded his arms and stared at the screen in sullen silence.

The next scene showed a young magic user shooting bolts of fire and ice from his fingers at the dragon as it flew past.

“Pfft,” Darakin made a sound or derision. He leaned toward Nora and in a loud whisper told her, “When you summon the elements, you can’t do it through your hands. How is he not getting burnt or frozen? This is pure fantasy, Nora.”

“Shush!” she whispered furiously. “I know it’s fantasy, that’s the point.”

Members of the audience hurled angry comments at them.

“Shut up or I’ll get you thrown out.”

“Dude, go back to the basement role playing, okay?”

Darakin looks at Nora. “What’s –”

“Shhh, whisper, damn it.”

“Sorry,” he continued in a whisper. “What’s a role play?”

“Never mind. Just keep your comments to yourself, we’ll talk later.”

With the exception of some sounds of disbelief, Darakin managed to keep quiet for the rest of the movie. Nora jumped up and dragged Darakin out as soon as the credits started rolling to avoid any of the people who had become annoyed with Darakin’s comments.

Once out on the street, Nora turned to Darakin. “Don’t you know how to just enjoy something? That was a movie. It’s not meant to be realistic, just fun. You’re just like those cops and nurses who complain about how unbelievable movies and shows are when they watch with you.” She turned to walk toward home.

Darakin reached out and grabbed touched her arm. “Please, Nora, I’m sorry. I’ve never seen anything like that and they just had it so wrong that I couldn’t help myself. Please forgive me.”

She looked at his beautiful eyes and relented. “Of course, I forgive you.” She gave him a sideways glance and against her better judgment, asked, “But how do you know that isn’t the way that magic would work in this realm?”

Darakin made some sputtering noises that started Nora laughing. “Fire is fire, Nora. It burns. And frost freezes. Am I to believe that these things are not constants in this realm?”

“No, chill out – no pun intended, that means to calm down. I was just yanking your chain.”

“Chain? What chain. There are no bindings on me.”

“It means I was just teasing you.”

“Oh.”

They walked the rest of the way home in silence. Darakin stood back while Nora opened the apartment door. She walked in and exclaimed, “Oh sweet Jaysus. It looks like curiosity killed the cat.”

“Mrowley’s dead? No! Where is he? How do you know?” Darakin brushed past her into the apartment and looked around, frantic to find his companion. He rushed past the disastrous mess in the kitchen into the living room where he promptly tripped over a small table that had been upended. He flew several feet and came to rest in front of the coffee table where he saw the cat sitting on the sofa, enjoying a bath.

“Mrowley!”

What?

“You’re alive!”

Can’t put anything past you, can I?

Darakin reached out and stroked the cat. “It’s … Nora said you were dead and well, I’ve grown attached to you.”

Mrowley cat-blushed at Darakin’s words.
I like you, too, Dude.

Nora came into the living room.

“Why did you tell me that Mrowley was dead?”

“I didn’t!”

“You said curiosity killed the cat.”

“Lordie, it’s an expression we use here. It’s a cat’s curiosity that gets them into all sorts of mischief.”

Actually, it was a fly.

“Don’t you see the mess in here?” She pointed to the table that he had tripped over.

Darakin looked around at the apartment. Every book, magazine and knick knack that had been on a table or shelf was on the floor. He looked back toward the kitchen. The flour canister had been toppled and the white powder was all over the counter.

“Mrowley!” Darakin bellowed.

What?

“I told you not to go on the countertops.”

You did?

“Yes. And you told me that all I had to do was ask and you would obey.”

Hold on there, dude. Obey is not exactly a word in the cat vocabulary.

“Well, you said you wouldn’t do it. Why did you? What happened here?”

I told you, there was a fly. It took awhile, but I caught him.

“What’s he saying?” Nora asked in annoyance.

“He says there was a fly.”

“Well, that explains it.”

Here.
The cat picked up something in his mouth and jumped down to deposit the little insect corpse at Nora’s feet.

“I feel so much safer now,” she said wryly.

“Mrowley, this place is destroyed. You did this,” Darakin spread his arms wide to indicate the destruction, “all to catch a fly?”

What can I say? It was an epic battle.

“An epic battle? Are you insane?”

No. Listen, the average speed of a housefly is four point five miles an hour whereas my average speed is about thirty miles an hour. However, since the fly can actually … well, fly, he can avoid most of the barriers that get in my way, causing me to need to achieve high speed and use a bit of my psychic abilities to know where he’s going and reach it first. Now the science of the situation is such that …