The Lost Mage Read Online Free Page B

burger.
     
    “Wait!”
     
    “What?” He dropped the burger as though it had burned him.
     
    “Ketchup. You need to put some ketchup on that.”
     
    “What’s ketchup?”
     
    “Ketchup? Red sauce?” At Darakin’s blank stare, he continued, “No? Just trust me.”
     
    Sean picked up a bottle of ketchup and lifted the bun to squeeze some on the burger. “Now. Take a bite.”
     
    Darakin picked up the burger and took a small bite. A smile soon lit his face and he took a bigger bite. “Thish ish dewicious!” he said with a mouth full of food.
     
    “Told you.”
     
    When only one bite remained, Darakin stopped eating.
     
    “What’s wrong? A gentleman never finishes everything on his plate where you come from?” Sean asked with a laugh.
     
    “No, I promised the cat I’d find some food for him.”
     
    “I’ll tell you what. I’ll give you a dollar and you can go to the market down the block and get him some cat food, okay?”
     
    “Um, okay.” Darakin had no idea what a dollar was or what cat food was, for that matter. He pictured bottled mice, recalling Mrowley’s breakfast that morning.
     
    Sean handed him a rectangular piece of paper. “The market is on this side of the street, about five shops down.”
     
    “Okay, thanks.” Darakin left the bar and walked until he found a shop with a sign that read “Market” and stepped up to pull the handle only to have the door open before he could touch it.
     
    “What sort of wizardry is this?” Darakin exclaimed in surprise as they door banged into him. He jumped back.
     
    A woman exiting the store gave him a wide berth as she clutched her child’s hand tighter and hurried off.
     
    Cautiously, Darakin stepped toward the door and it swung open on its own. Once again, he jumped back. Several passersby stopped to stare and laugh at the odd man’s reaction. Aware of the onlookers’ laughter, Darakin straightened his shoulders and approached the doors again. This time when it opened he rushed past it and into the store where he looked around in surprise at all the boxes.
     
    “Hair dye’s in aisle four.” the young man behind the counter said, noting Darakin’s silver locks.
     
    “What? Hair dye?”
     
    “I figure you for just having woken up in some strange chick’s apartment and trying to fix all the crap you did last night but can’t remember.”
     
    “A chick? Why would I be sleeping with a young chicken? I am not accustomed to sleeping in barns, nor have I seen any in this city for that matter.”
     
    “Dude, are you still drunk? Usually people have sobered up by this time.”
     
    “Drunk? I’ve had no spirits. Well, I did have an ale, but only the one.”
     
    “Okay, relax. You’re just your run of the mill wacko, I get it.”
     
    “No, I … um … I was looking for the market, but this seems to be a warehouse of sorts.”
     
    “Huh? What are you talking about? This is the market.”
     
    “Where’s the food?”
     
    “Dude, look at this place, it’s, like, all around you.”
     
    Darakin took a closer look at the boxes on the shelves. Most did appear to contain food and he thought, how odd, they don’t eat fresh food in this land . Aloud, he said, “Oh. Where’s the cat’s food?”
     
    “Third aisle, like halfway down.”
     
    “Okay. Thank you … like … very much, dude.”
     
    “Yeah, sure.” The kid gave Darakin a funny look and went back to pretending to read his magazine, but keeping a watchful eye on the crazy man in aisle three.
     
    Darakin went to the specified aisle and walked halfway down. Stacks of cans with pictures of dogs and cats stared back at him. He picked up one with a cat on it. “These aren’t mice. The cats and dogs of this land must eat this ground meat, too,” he said, looking at the other picture on the label that depicted a bowl full of gravy-covered ground food.
     
    Darakin carried the can to the counter and put it down. “I wish to exchange currency for this