Light in the Barren Lands: Travail of The Dark Mage Book One (12 page)

“Very well,” agreed Jiron. Taking hold of his belt, he unbuckled it and removed the scabbards. Then, he lifted the back of his shirt and inserted the scabbard bottoms within his breeches. Once they were a third of the way in, he took the belt and wrapped it around the upper half of the scabbards and cinched it tight against his chest. When his shirt was put back in place, there was a noticeable bulge.

“Hmmm,” commented James as he took in the poorly hidden knives. “If we keep moving and stay out of the light, they might go unnoticed.”

Jira copied her father and when finished, her small knives hardly made any bulge at all.

“Okay?” asked Jiron.

“I guess,” replied James. “It’s better than having them blatantly out in the open.”

Continuing their downward descent, they were able to reach the ground floor without encountering anyone. James attributed the lack of others to the lateness of the evening. He did however worry about the possibility of security guards that may be roaming about, especially down in the lobby.

Pausing at the stairwell door, he looked through the small window. A pair of elevators and a men’s room stood just on the other side. Beyond these, the open expanse of the lobby stretched toward a revolving door flanked on either side by a pair of regular doors. Other than half a dozen chairs and two tables, it looked empty. Maybe there were no security guards employed within this building. James fervently hoped so. Opening the door, he stepped through.

As he started to pass the elevators, he heard a
Ding!

Unable to hide in time, all he could do was stand there and watch the door open. The shocked surprise of the security guard at seeing the two men and small girl in a lobby that was supposed to be vacant gave Jiron sufficient time. Striking the guard in the solar plexus, he followed with a second blow to the side of the man’s head, knocking him out before he could utter a sound.

James moved forward and pulled the guard from the elevator to allow the doors to close. “He’s still alive.”

Jiron nodded. “Didn’t try to kill him,” he replied. When James glanced toward him, he added, “We couldn’t very well have allowed him to raise the alarm could we?”

“No,” said James. “But now there will be an investigation as to who it was that struck him. A complication I was hoping to avoid.” A quick look around the immediate area revealed no less than three security cameras, one of which was pointing in their general vicinity. “Great.” Jiron looked questioningly toward him but he didn’t elucidate.

Returning his attention to the man, he saw a key chain bearing a dozen keys clipped to the man’s belt. Taking the keys James said, “Let’s get out of here before his partner shows up.”

With Jiron and Jira following closely, James ran toward the pair of doors on the right of the revolving door. There he worked quickly to locate the correct key, all the while Jiron stood transfixed by the sight beyond the glass doors.

Cars, buses, and trucks of all shapes and sizes passed before them. Lights, unnaturally steady, came at them from all angles. There was none of the flicker that one would expect from a flame. These lights were just like the magical orb that James created.

Click!

Finding the right key, James unlocked the door and swung it open. Moving through, he realized he was alone on the other side. Jiron and Jira stood there immobile, overwhelmed by the world before them.

“Come on,” James urged. “They are just cars, uh, horseless carriages.”

“They are conveyances?” questioned Jiron. Giving Jira a gentle shove, he and his daughter emerged from the building.

“That’s right,” replied James. Closing the door, he used the key to lock it once again.

A few passersby on the sidewalk took note of their exit, giving their appearance a second look. Feeling decidedly uncomfortable with more and more people pausing to gawk at their outlandish attire, he directed Jiron to follow and they hurriedly moved down the street.

Keeping close to the buildings did little in the way of hiding them as the sidewalk was well lit with streetlights and other forms of illumination attached to the side of the building. Just before coming to a less busy side street, James took note of the appearance of a bus. The sign displayed above the driver read
“33 Downtown.”
Then he turned the corner and they left the busy thoroughfare behind.

It was slightly less well illuminated down this street, and James took full vantage of the pockets of shadows. He didn’t know how long it would be before the security guard awoke, but he did know they needed to be as far from there as possible when he did.

“Your world is truly incredible,” Jiron said, maintaining a firm grip on Jira’s hand.

“There is much of it that I miss,” replied James.

Coming to a side alley, he moved quickly through the glow of a streetlight and into the alley’s sheltering darkness. Relative darkness to be sure, as there were small lights placed above doors of the bordering buildings.

“We need to find out exactly where we are,” stated James.

The buildings along the alley revealed little as to the city in which they were.

Spying a homeless person lying beneath a torn piece of cardboard, he altered course and approached. Without Jiron at his side, he would never have braved such a course of action now that his magic was inoperable.

Drawing near, he saw layers of clothes move and two eyes turn in their direction.

“Excuse me,” began James, “I was wondering if you could help us.”

Eyes locked upon them, the person made no attempt to reply.

“Would you mind helping us?” James asked again.

“Doesn’t look as if he’s going to,” commented Jiron.

James was about to agree when he suddenly realized he wasn’t speaking in English. After five years of speaking nothing but the language of Jiron’s world, he had to concentrate to get the words out.

“Could you help us?” he asked, this time in English.

“What for?” came the gruff reply.

“We are in need of information,” explained James.

“Go away,” the man barked. “I’ve had enough of your kind coming around here and hassling me.”

“My apologies for disturbing you, but our situation is urgent,” said James. Turning to Jiron, he asked, “Do you have a coin?”

Jiron nodded his head. “I do.”

“Then let me have one, a silver.”

Checking his pouch, he found a single silver along with a couple golds and a score of copper. “You’re in luck,” he said, handing it over. “I have one left.”

James took the coin and held it out to the homeless man. “I don’t have any cash, but would silver convince you to help us?”

At that, the homeless man grew more interested. Sitting up, he stretched out his hand for the coin. “Perhaps, if it is real silver.”

Handing him the coin, James watched as the man inspected it before the coin disappeared.

Glancing from side to side, the man returned his attention to James and asked, “What do you wanna know?”

“Well, this may seem kind of dumb, but…what town are we in?”

A smile creased the face of the old homeless man. “You boys must really be lost if you don’t even know where you are. I thought you were a couple of cops.”

“With a little girl?” asked James.

“That did throw me off for a moment I must confess.”

“So what town are we in?” asked James for the second time.

“
Haveston
.”

Chapter Seven

________________________

Haveston. Home. He was home. Somehow, his teleporter had bridged the distance and delivered them there. But how? There was no way his half dozen crystals in the teleporter could have held sufficient power to do such a thing.

Why also had they been deposited in a room located high in a skyscraper? Then the color drained from his face as he recalled the numbers on the door beyond the police tape.
2334
! That was the number of the room where he’d gone for that interview many years ago, the room where he had passed through the door marked
“Private”
and met Igor for the first time.

Jiron noticed his reaction and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yeah,” replied James. “I’m home.” To the homeless man he said, “Thank you.”

Sensing that he was no longer going to be bothered, the homeless man grunted something unintelligible then nestled back beneath his piece of cardboard.

Trudging up memories long relegated to the nether recesses of his mind, James tried to get his bearings. Working on the assumption that the building they emerged from was indeed the one he had gone to for his interview, he soon knew which direction was north. And with that, knew which way to go to reach his grandparents’ home.

“We’re a little over five miles from my grandparents’ house,” he explained to Jiron and Jira. “They will help us.”

Jiron looked relieved. “Then lead the way.”

James nodded and continued moving down the alley. The most direct way to his grandparents’ home lay back the way they had come. But with the possibility of the security guard coming to and calling the police, James decided on a more roundabout way.

Five hours later, his grandparents’ house came into view. The front porch light was on and everything looked just as he remembered. Even the creaky old porch swing still sat on the front porch.

As they walked down the sidewalk he had known most of his life, he was surprised at how nervous he was becoming. Unconsciously, he began slowing his pace until finally coming to a stop before his grandparents’ next-door neighbor’s house.

Beside him, Jiron carried Jira who had fallen asleep hours ago. Seeing the way James was staring at the house, he asked, “Is that it?”

“Yeah,” he replied with a mouth gone suddenly dry.

No lights were on in the house, every window was dark and shut tight. Three doors down, a dog began to bark.

Long had he wished to see his grandparents again, and now that the chance had come, he was hesitant. What would he tell them? What
could
he tell them? How could he possibly explain his absence all these years? And returning in the dead of night, what were they to make of
that
? Taking a calming breath, he took a step and headed for the walkway leading from the curb to the front door.

At the walkway’s entrance, he paused. “You had better wait here for now.”

“If you think that is best,” replied Jiron, who then moved into the shadow of a weeping willow.

Butterflies were at war in his stomach as he walked the remaining distance to the door. On the wall glowed the orange, circular button of the doorbell. Moving a finger forward, he pressed it.

The familiar chime of the doorbell echoed throughout the house. He waited a minute and when there was no sign of anyone stirring, he pressed it again. Before the last echo of the doorbell died, light appeared in a window far to his right. It was to his grandparents’ bedroom.

Then came the unmistakable creaking of someone making his way through the house toward the front door. James stepped to the right and peered through the large picture window into the living room. A shadow emerged from the hallway and approached. Instead of coming to the door, it came to the window.

He saw the shadow work the lock and slide the window aside. “Yes?” a voice asked.

“Grandpa?” asked James.

“Grandpa?” the voice said. “I think you have the wrong house son.”

“Are you John Reese?”

“No,” the man replied. “John Reese was the man I bought this house from four years ago.”

That was not the news James
expected
.

“Was he your grandfather?”

“Yes he was,” James replied. “I’ve been away for awhile. You wouldn’t know where he lives now would you?”

“I think he said something about moving back east to live with a sister.”

“That would be my great-aunt Beatrice,” explained James.

“I’m sorry he wasn’t here son,” the man said. “Maybe you should give your great-aunt a call.”

James nodded. “Yeah, maybe I’ll do that. Thanks.”

“Sure thing,” the man said. “Good night to you. Or maybe I should say good morning.”

“You too,” James said. Then while the new occupant of his grandparents’ house slid the window closed, he turned and headed back down the walkway.

“They’ve moved,” he said sadly as he came to join Jiron beneath the willow. Despite his earlier nervousness, he really wanted to see his grandparents. If they had moved in with great aunt Beatrice, they were somewhere in Missouri, at least that’s where he thought she lived.

“Now what?” Jiron asked.

To the east, the sky was beginning to lighten with the coming of dawn. “It’s a given we can’t stay here for long.” A glance back to the house revealed the man was watching them from the living room window. “Come on,” James said.

The houses lining the street each held someone he knew. But he wondered how much they would be willing to help given the present circumstances. James well remembered Dave’s experience after he had disappeared. His friend’s life had turned upside down with accusations that Dave was somehow involved with his and the others’ disappearances. Would he fare any better? If he came forward and told his story, most likely he’d be locked up in a nuthouse.

Years of having kept to himself now left him with no friends to whom he could turn. The only friendship of any consequence had been Dave, and with him gone, there was no one. Walking along the street, he tried to think of someone,
anyone,
who might help. With the night quickly turning into day, he didn’t have a whole lot of time to deliberate. He knew the police would be looking for them. Once the security guard awoke and they played back the security tapes… If only they had been able to get out of that building unnoticed.

Then it hit him. “Mr. Young!”

“Who?”

“Mr. Young,” repeated James. “He was a teacher of mine.”