Page 5 of The Tricksters Deception

“Daemonaria?” I feel my eyebrows press together.

Concern flashes across both their faces when my new friend speaks, “Maybe you should also check her head while you’re checking her shoulder,” he says to Patricia. It was obvious they thought something was a little wrong with me.

Exclaiming, I state, “I’m not crazy, I’m not from around here - just look at what I’m wearing!”

“Yes,” Patricia begins, “I was going to ask what kind of house crest you were wearing. It’s not very familiar to me.”

“It’s not a house crest, it’s a logo from a convenience store in New York, where I live. You can buy slushies and stale doughnuts there.” I’m starting to slightly panic again. “New York?” I sigh; they clearly had no idea where I was referring to. “Sorry, maybe I did hit my head.” I shrug, wincing at the movement in my shoulder.

“Please, come behind the curtain and let me take a look at that for you. Corvu, why don’t you stay here?” He nods and smiles. At least now I know the name of the person who rescued me.

I follow Patricia behind the curtain where she politely asks me to remove my shirt so she can inspect my wound. I do so with no argument. Bringing over a washcloth and bandages, she looks over it, then fixates for a moment on my chest. I look down and see the necklace Sheila gave me still hung around my neck; despite all the craziness, it was still there. She looks back up at the wound then at me.

“It’s not too bad, looks a lot worse than it is.” She smiles, putting something on the washcloth from a glowing green bottle. I feel a shiver run down my spine as I imagine what must be mixed in the concoction to make it glow like that. “This will kill any growing infections, but it’ll sting a little while I’m applying it, so why don’t you talk to me about something. Tell me about where you’re from.” She waited for me to begin talking so I decided to tell her more about me.

“I grew up in New York, but I was an orphan, so I grew up with a pretty big...family. I never got adopted, so when I was old enough I started working so that I could take care of myself. I moved into an apartment; it’s not fancy and it’s a little cramped, but it’s the closest thing I’ll probably have to a home in a long time.”

Humming her response and nodding up and down, she responds, “How old are you?”

“I turned twenty-one just before last Christmas.” I smile, but she just tilts her head. “Oh, no Christmas here?”

“Sorry love, what’s Christmas?”

“It’s a holiday celebrated a little differently around the world; people give out presents and families gather to spend time together. People decorate their houses with lights and have a big dinner; it’s very nice.”

“Sounds lovely, a little bit like Thychut.” I just smile, assuming it might just be called something different. I feel a small tug and notice that she was done bandaging me up. “There we are. You’re good to go.” She leaves me alone to put my shirt back on, then I go back out and see Corvu and Patricia chatting. They turn to me as I come out from behind the curtain.

“I should thank you, but I’m really sorry I don’t have anything to pay you with.” But Patricia just smiles at me.

“This is what I do; I don’t expect any more than peace for my services.”

I let out a small sigh of relief. “I have to ask a few questions, please?” They both nod with anticipation. “How is it that you speak English?”

“What’s English?” Patricia questions, eyebrows engaging with the conversation.

“The language you’re using. The one we’re speaking to each other.”

“We’re speaking Skivak.” Everything must have different meanings around here. I can’t possibly be on Earth. My heartbeat echoes in my ears, steady but intense as if it were a thundering night.

“Do you have a world map somewhere? I need to know how to get home.” Patricia nods and disappears once more behind the curtain. I find myself in preparation to cry, but I’m trying to hold it together. Truly, who was I to assume what was happening. This felt too real and painful to just be a dream or hallucination. I hold my breath as Patricia comes back through the curtain and hands me a rolled-up piece of paper. It was clearly old but not fragile. Going towards the windowsill for the most light, I open the parchment, and at a quick glance, I nearly faint again. It’s Earth, well not exactly but pretty close. It’s where I live. “Where are we?” I ask quietly. Corvu leans over and points to where it should say ‘Las Vegas’, replaced with the word ‘Aynor’. It seemed impossible. Not even Las Vegas would create a feature theme park like this.

“I also have this.” Patricia clears her throat, holding an open book in front of me - it looked almost identical to the necklace I was wearing, the only difference was the stone was oval and not tear-shaped. Two whole pages are written in a language I didn’t understand, which contained an image of what hung heavy around me. “It’s a witch’s amulet. If you really aren’t from here and from another world or realm, it probably brought you here.” How does something like this happen?

“Nope,” I exclaim, closing the map and handing it to Corvu. “I’m not crazy, and I’m not going crazy. This is insane. This is not some kind of time-traveling necklace.” I hold the piece up in my hand, where I can see the inside of the amethyst glow deeply inside.

“Not time travel, realm. You switched realms.” She smiles at me, trying to assure me. It’s not working. “You should be careful though. The amulet is an extremely rare totem and possesses a lot of great powers. Many Daemonaria want it for themselves because it grants the wearer magical abilities beyond imagination.” Corvu’s eyes open wider as he hears her words, but for some reason, I feel like that information would shock anyone. “But there’s more,” Patricia continues, glancing at the book and translating the text. “The amulet maintains its powers only if it’s willingly passed from one person to another. The previous holder must trust the next completely. If it’s taken without genuine faith, or because you were commanded to, its power becomes faulty.”

Corvu frowns, clearly questioning this revelation. “So, the amulet’s full power only works with trust? And if it’s passed through force, the power is compromised?”

“Yes,” Patricia nods. “The person who had the amulet before Tia had to have faith in her to give it to her, and they must have trusted you, Tia, for the amulet to keep its power. If it's simply taken from her, it will lose power altogether.”

Without hesitation, I put the amulet inside my top. The idea of someone taking this amulet from me, and potentially losing its power, scares me.

“Can it bring me home?”

“I’m not sure, dear. It brought you here, but you’ll need to speak to a wizard.”

“Wizards are a thing? I thought it was a witch’s amulet?”

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