Free Missing Magic by Karen Whiddon

truck,
was parked in front of the garage. She saw no sign of Mick’s Ford
Explorer. She dug in her pocket, located a scrap of paper,
    “Even the insects avoid the place.” He
pointed at the house next door. It had the front porch light on,
drawing a small cloud of moths and assorted other small, flying
insects. Mick’s house, illuminated a hundred times brighter, was
completely a bug-free zone.
    “Strange,” Cenrick murmured, as though
speaking to himself. “What kind of magic could do this?”
    “Or machine.” She felt obliged to point out
that magic wasn’t behind everything. “I still think the glow comes
from some sort of machine.”
    “Machines and magic don’t mix. Whoever is
harming Fae is stealing their magic. I doubt any man-made machine
could do that.”
    She didn’t, but saw no reason to tell him so.
Not without proof. If machines such as CT scanners and MRI’s could
exist, who could say someone hadn’t invented a magic-stealing
machine?
    Someone evil.
    “One more pass.”
    As they turned to head back, another car
pulled up, in front of the house.
    Two men got out.
    “Not men,” Cenrick said, as though he’d read
her mind. “Fae. I can see their auras, though they’re weak.”
    Not wanting to be noticed, Cenrick and Dee
slowed their pace to a virtual shuffle, though they had to keep
moving.
    The two visitors didn’t even glance at them.
Instead, they walked up the flower-trimmed sidewalk towards the
house. No, walked didn’t even begin to describe the way they
moved. They marched , moving stiffly, like Ken dolls provided
with bendable legs.
    Something, some sound or intuition, drew
their attention. They froze, swiveling their heads to look at Dee
and Cenrick.
    Now Dee got a good look at them. Her skin
crawled as she realized what had happened to them. Oh, they were
beautiful, to be sure. Much more up Mick’s alley than the blonde,
sharp-faced woman. But they looked like poor imitations of men – or
Fae – empty of spark, empty of life.
    They looked like robots.
    They were well on their way to becoming one
of the soulless.
    Dee made a strangled sound.
    Cenrick growled, low in his throat.
    After the one disinterested look, the men
continued forward. The front door opened as they approached. Even
brighter light spilled out, illuminating the sidewalk like some
giant, malevolent spotlight. Looking neither left nor right, the
two stepped inside.
    When the door closed behind them, Cenrick
cursed. “Did you see that? They’re becoming soulless.”
    “I know.” Dee answered truthfully. “However
and whatever, the process has already begun.”
    “Lothar’s plains!” His arm tensed under her
hand and a muscle worked in his jaw. “But how? How is this being
done?”
    “And why? It’s Mick’s house.” Though she
hated to admit it, she’d never been one to lie to herself. “Mick’s
involved, somehow. After growing up longing for a family of his
own, I can’t believe he’d harm his own people.”
    “After all you’ve seen, do you still
doubt?”
    “I’ve been working in law enforcement. It’s
my job to question. It’s entirely possible that Mick’s under their
spell, you know. He might be in trouble too.”
    Cenrick opened his mouth. Just then, the glow
vanished. Mick’s house went dark.

Chapter Five
     
     
    CENRICK LOOKED at Dee. She stared back. Then
they both turned to Mick’s house, which sat silent and dark, as if
a giant switch had been flicked to cut off the glow. Black, but not
empty. He could have sworn the blackness pulsed.
    He shuddered. Though he didn’t like to
remember, he’d seen this utter and absolute darkness once before,
when helping Alrick fight the Warlord from the future.
    The shadows around Mick’s house danced and
swirled and breathed . Evil was at work here. This darkness
signified more than a mere absence of light. Cenrick sensed the
absence of magic as well. While his mind screamed not
possible , the scholar in him couldn’t help but wonder how