November 16
Word Count: 1791
“So did you lose the coin toss?” Malek asked as he turned his attention to the contraption in his hand.
“Umm… actually we drew straws, but I think they cheated. You have all of our highest respect, Master Malek, but…” Malek pushed a button on the side of the machine and a small light began to glow. When the light was bright and full, he pushed the button again, and it whirred. A door opened and a small round ball dropped from it and shattered onto the floor. Malek bent down to inspect the pieces. He stood and pushed the button again, careful to catch the ball this time.
“It’s ice. The machine makes ice.”
“Oh.” The brother began to scribble on his clipboard. He looked up. “What are we going to call it. Anyone who figures out what it does, gets to name it.”
“How about ice machine?” Malek said rather icily himself.
“Right. Good name. Ice machine.” Brother Basely said the words as he wrote them down. Malek moved on to the next item. He spoke as he examined the six inch red tube about six inches in diameter.
“Why couldn’t one of the other brothers figure that one out?”
“They tried. I saw them push the button plenty of times. They think most of the items need a ‘recharge’ from a Great Mage. I think you recharged it.
“I just touched it.”
“Exactly.”
Clueless as to the use of the tube, Malek put it up to his eye to look through it. He pulled away after a very close up view of Basely’s nose hairs. He put it up to his ear and suddenly heard Pogle’s voice asking questions in the other end of the city. Malek put it up to his mouth.
“I THINK IT’S…” Malek pulled it away from his mouth, as the volume rattled the shelves. “a sensory magnifier.”
“Right. And we’ll call it a Sensory Magnifier.”
“You catch on fast.” Malek put the tube back on the shelf and picked up a blue crystal ball. It looked very similar to his locator ball. It was light, and quite beautiful.
“I’m not an apprentice,” Basely replied, defending himself. “I took my vows of service before we left the monastery. The others thought it would be for the best.”
“The others are afraid of me,” Malek stated matter of factly, leaving out the observation that Basely was obviously just as frightened.
“I rather think so.”
“So what do they say about me?” Malek asked.
“They say that sometimes you turn into a big green cat and eat people.”
“That’s not true. I have a big green cat that sometimes I tell to eat people. I left him at home today.” Malek heard Basely swallow loudly. He smiled for the first time that day.
“I have no idea what this is.” He was about to put it back on the shelf when he realized that his locator ball responded to verbal commands.
“Where is Mitty?” Nothing. “Show me Mitty.” Again nothing. “Tell me what I want to know!”
Malek was thrown off his feet and slammed into the shelf behind him. Items clattered down around him and for a moment he thought he was dead. A whiteness fogged his vision and he struggled to remain conscious. He heard Brother Basely speaking to him, through what sounded like a wall of water. He drew breaths in gasps, each one seeming to not hold enough air to keep his head from swimming. Finally, even Basely’s voice faded into the roar and Malek lost the fight of consciousness.
Iber drew a sigh of relief when they reached the edge of the forest without anything going wrong. He and Vyna had ridden at a breakneck speed most of the way, hoping that any lurking dragons would ignore a fast moving target. Actually, there’d been no reports of dragons in the eastern part of the forest, but they weren’t going to take any chances.
The high pace also didn’t leave much room for talking, which was quite fine with Iber. Talking to fifty people through one mouth was a bit disconcerting. He hated to watch Vyna fight for control of her own voice. Iber was very much surprised that she’d been able to keep a relative sense of sanity for the past one hundred years.
The trees thinned and they slowed their pace to ride across the planes that separated them from the far eastern forest that ran to the mountains as they curved around the border. Vyna had said that her village had lain not to far from the eastern forests border.
Near nightfall, they crossed an ambling stream and rested the horses. As sunset grew closer, they saw lights appear on the horizon. They road toward civilization, in hopes of a hot meal and an actual bed, rather than the cold ground.
The lights were not a town, but about ten wagons set in a circle, camped out on the shore of another stream. As the two approached, they were greeted by two dark skinned men with blond hair, who after a brief conversation and a barter, were happy to provide a hot meal and some hospitality.
“Welcome to our camp,” the larger of the two men exclaimed as he held out his hand for the gold coin Iber offered. They were apparently used to taking strangers into their camp. He’d seen people like them before, traveling through Galadin, entertaining as they went. They were singers, dancers, and musicians.
Vyna remained silent as they ate, served by a pretty girl in a bright dress. She smiled beguilingly at Iber. He suddenly wished he’d brought his poetry book. An old woman approached them. “Your wife is very pretty. Perhaps she needs a new trinket?” She held up an assortment bangles. Iber opened his mouth to deny Vyna was his wife, but she elbowed him.
“I already have one,” she said, holding up the necklace, “but thank you anyway.” The pretty girl turned away. Iber sighed. “You had to do that?”
“Well, you idiot. You should have been a gentlemen and considered our reputation.”
“Sorry, Mrs. Menymus,” Iber replied as he pushed his empty plate away from him on the low table they were seated at. Vyna put her hand over her mouth before someone else could issue another venomous comment.
One of the swarthy men approached. “Perhaps you would like your fortune told? Jacyna has always had a gift, but in the past few months, it has grown by leaps and bounds.” Aided by the burgeoning return of magic, no doubt. It would be nice to know what was held in store, though most of these fortune tellers made up half the things they said.
Jacyna appeared, shrouded in about ten shawls. She was like a dried apple with white blond hair still sprouting abundantly and wildly from her head. She held out her hand, thin and boney, the wrinkled skin stretching to cover it completely. With a breath, Iber reached out his hand, and they touched for a single moment before she drew her hand back suddenly.
“You will die young,” she said matter of factly after a moment.
“That’s just great.” Iber truly wanted to hear that news, of all news. He was probably going to get eaten by a dragon tomorrow.
“And old. You will die young, but old.” The old lady seemed puzzled by the information. Iber smiled. As a Great Mage, he could keep his youth…so no matter when he died, he would look young. So much for the dragons.
The old lady held out her hand to Vyna, who reluctantly touched it. Again, Jacyna drew back her hand. “One of you will die very soon.” Vyna squished her eyes shut as she did invisible battle with the voices in her head, who no doubt were in quite a panic.
“Do you know which one?” Iber asked for her. Jacyna thought for a moment, then shrugged.
“No,” she stated, and then waddled off into the darkness of the camp.
“Dancing?” a man offered. Vyna hiccupped, still trying to control herself.
“I don’t think so. She’s tired. It’s been a long day.”
“A tent for you, then” the man offered as they cleared the table.
Iber picked Vyna up and carried her in his arms to the tent they had set up for them. He set her down in the mountain of pillows. He tried to stand, but she grabbed him.
“They won’t shut up!” Iber sat down beside her and took her in his arms. “Well then, how about a story?” She shook her head. “A joke? Have you heard the one about the two brothers that walked into a bar?” She shook her head again. “Well, you’d think one of them would have ducked. Get it? Bar, like an iron bar? Not a tavern. Two brothers walked into a bar?” He sighed as she just grabbed him tighter. It was probably taking all her effort to stop the people from cursing him.
“Okay, a poem is the best I can do.” He remembered back to one he wrote and memorized for some visitors of his fathers.
“In the
The mages rule with kindly graces
Their temperance stretched throughout all,
Though they seldom show their faces
The brave the meek
All journey to seek
Their help from far and near
Just listen closely and you can hear
Though the wind may howl and shriek.
Listen find comfort and surcease of fear.”
“It’s an honor poem. They were quite the fashion a few years ago. I wrote it before realized that I was a Great Mage. Kind of ironic, that – writing a poem honoring yourself, without knowing it. It needs a little work. Maybe another verse, but I haven’t quite figured out the… and I haven’t written the poem about Snult yet. I should get Malek and Iber to help, since they were so kind to try and teach me a few good insults… which I’ve forgotten most of. I…”
Iber realized the tension had gone out of Vyna. He truly hoped he’d bored her to sleep, rather than losing consciousness because of the people in her head.
“If you can hear me, you miserable louts,” Iber whispered into Vyna’s ear, “you should be thankful that she’s carried you around and saved your lives. And if one of you has to go for that to happen, then so be it. She’s risked her life for you for one hundred years. You should be willing to reciprocate the favor.”
Iber carefully laid back, taking Vyna with him. He was fast asleep in a few moments.