Light in the Barren Lands: Travail of The Dark Mage Book One (22 page)

Taking the money from the counter, James said, “Thanks.”

“A pleasure doing business with you.”

As the man once again used the eyepiece to further examine his newest acquisition, James stuffed the money in his pants pocket and left.

Back at the car, he found Jiron and Jira staring out through the windows anxiously awaiting to find out what happened. He grinned and gave them a thumbs up signifying that things went well.

“Now,” he began as he took his seat behind the wheel, “let’s find a place to stay and see about getting something to eat.”

They found a motel farther off the strip that wasn’t overly strict about guests showing ID. Not so long as they were willing to put up two hundred dollars against possible damages and long distance phone charges. James was more than willing to fork over the money, he hadn’t had a shower or bath since the evening before Kenny’s birthday party. And boy, was he feeling nasty.

It wasn’t a great room, merely two beds, a TV, a couple of auxiliary tables, and of course, a shower. After the amenities he’d been forced to endure in Jiron’s world during his earlier travels, there could have been a dead rat in the corner and he probably wouldn’t have batted an eye. All he cared about was the shower. True, he had made one for his new home on the island. But how could the dribble from his jury-rigged shower even begin to compare with the force of water from modern plumbing?

While James disappeared into the shower for a rather extended stay, Jiron gave the room a once over. First thing he took note of were the locking mechanisms on the door and found them to be acceptable. Next, he went around and opened the drawers, examined the television, and tried turning the lights on and off a couple times.

Jira had to try that as well and very soon their room was reminiscent of a strobe-lighted discothèque without the dancers or music. After enduring his daughter’s enthusiasm for as long as he could, he had her stop.

Once he’d thoroughly inspected the room, he returned his attention to the TV. He had been intrigued by these devices ever since their time spent in Mr. Young’s house. His fingers pressed the many buttons until he produced a reaction.

The sudden blaring of music coming from the box startled him and caused Jira to jump a foot off the floor in fright. But then he grinned when he realized it was a troupe of bards playing musical instruments to a crowd in a rather large tavern.

“Look Jira,” he said as one of the bards leapt into the crowd and was born away by the hands of the audience.

“That’s silly,” she laughed.

“Some people are,” he agreed. Pressing more buttons, he located the one to change the channel. James had said these boxes could show more than one image if you but knew how to access it.

Most made no sense to him at all until he came to something that looked surprisingly like the Pits, only less bloody. Two men in breechclouts were faced off against one another. Jabs were exchanged, kicks too. Jiron looked for weapons but it appeared that this was merely an unarmed fight. It didn’t take him long to determine that the two men wouldn’t have lasted long in the Pits. Pressing the button again, he continued his examination of the various exhibitions the television afforded.

Meanwhile, in the steam shrouded bathroom, James was in total heaven. Not long after first stepping into the powerful streams of water, he vowed to find a way to make his shower on the island as powerful as this one. Perhaps with magic? Visions of magically propelled water cutting through him like a knife curbed his enthusiasm, but he figured there had to be a way. First though, he had to get them home.

When at last he could drag out his shower no longer, he turned off the water and stepped from the tub. Man did he feel good! Like he was born again. As he dried off, the sound from Jiron’s channel surfing made him grin. He wondered what his friend was making of his first real experience with television. And what would he think if he stumbled upon
Lord of the Rings
during the fight between Gandalf and the Balrog? Might be interesting to see if it’s on and find out.

Leaving the bathroom amidst a cloud of steam, he asked, “Who’s next?”

Jiron glanced to his daughter. “Jira?” She shook her head in the negative.

Deciding not to press the point, he asked, “Find anything good on?”

“Not sure what you would call good.”

“A program that interests you.”

“In that case, no. It is all a bit too strange for me.”

Grinning, James nodded. Then a glance to Jira. “Who’s hungry?”

“Me!” she exclaimed wholeheartedly.

Before she could continue, her uncle said, “No ice cream this time. Real food.”

She looked to her father for aid in this, but found him to be of little help. James couldn’t help but chuckle when the barely audible exclamation of “
rat poop!”
reached him.

So with Jira in tow, the two men exited the motel room and walked down the sidewalk in search of food. A quick question asked of a pedestrian soon had them approaching one of the smaller casinos to be found off the strip. Small, of course, was merely a comparison to the massive ones not far away. Anywhere else it would be considered large.

The sound of slot machines rolling, people talking, and a few people shouting at the craps table assaulted them as the sliding glass doors opened for them. Jira found the doors to be fascinating and asked if they were magic. James merely shook his head in the negative and didn’t offer any further explanation.

Old ladies sat at the nickel slots pressing buttons almost faster than the machine would allow. Cocktail waitresses roved up one aisle of gamblers and down the next. The lights and sounds dazzled the eyes. Caught up in the excitement, James couldn’t help but pause and throw his lone quarter into one of the machines. Pulling the handle, the three wheels rotated and came up two cherries. Lights flashed, bells sounded, and three quarters fell from the hopper.

Jiron was impressed. “You put in one and you get three in return?”

“Not necessarily,” his friend explained, then went on to show him the payout schedule posted at the top of the machine. “If none of these combinations comes up, you get nothing.”

“Interesting. I’ll have to mention this to Scar when we return.” He turned a grin to James. “Mind if I try?”

“Sure.”

Jiron took a quarter from the three in the bin and placed it in the coin acceptor. Then pulling the handle, he watched the three wheels spin. First one stopped on BAR. The second one stopped on BAR.

James held his breath as the third one came to a stop. It was blank and the machine remained quiet. “You lost.”

“Interesting.”

“But look,” James said. “Had that third one come up BAR, you would have won a hundred.”

“Can I try?” Jira asked excitedly.

“Sorry,” her uncle replied. “They only let adults play these games.”

“Rat poop!”

“Jira…” admonished her father.

“Sorry, father.”

Jiron turned to his friend. “Let’s eat. I about died of starvation waiting for you to get out of the shower.”

Grinning, James glanced around and found the sign for the restaurant. Leading the way, he cut through the Blackjack tables.

It was a buffet with scores of selections to choose from. There was nothing like the variety in food that could be had in the casinos of Vegas. For a little less than twenty dollars, the three of them ate their fill and then some.

Once completely satiated, they departed the casino and returned to their hotel. James was tempted to take a stroll along the Strip and see the sites, but forwent such pleasure in lieu of keeping a low profile. With their pictures prominently featured on every news station and paper, it was a miracle that they had yet to be discovered. Even the jaunt to the restaurant hadn’t been completely without risk. But, disguised as they were to blend in with the tourists, and the fact Las Vegas was aswarm with people, it hadn’t been much of a one.

Back at the motel, James turned on the television and found a local news station. It wasn’t long before the scene of Jiron coldcocking the security guard came on. Afterward, photos showing their features were displayed much to James’ chagrin. They were pretty accurate. Of the three, only Jira was not featured. James figured it was due to her being a minor.

The news went on to reiterate the interviews at the restaurant where Jira had killed the boy. It seemed the fact that it had been in self-defense escaped the reporters. From their viewpoint, she had methodically, and in cold blood, taken his life.

If there was anything good to be gleaned from what the reporter was saying, it was that Reno wasn’t mentioned, only that the authorities were working on several possible leads. When the reporter began talking about possible ties to Middle East terrorist organizations, James turned it off.

“Looks like they still don’t know where we are,” he announced.

Laid back on the bed farthest from the door, Jiron had Jira nestled against his side. Her shallow breathing and relaxed state said she was asleep. One of his knives lay in easy reach on his other side, just in case. “Perhaps you will have the time you need to get us home.”

“Let’s hope so,” he replied as a yawn escaped him. Turning the lights off, he crawled into bed. “Tomorrow, we’ll head to L.A. and see what we can discover.”

With locks firmly secured upon the door, and weariness from the last couple of days having taken its toll, it didn’t take long before sleep came calling.

Chapter Thirteen

________________________

Awakening from a dream of home, one in which he, Meliana, and Kenny were overnighting at the small lake on the island, he sighed in longing. Try as he might, he couldn’t quite hang onto the dream. And as is the case with dreams, it quickly faded until all that was left were feelings of remembered familial enjoyment, and loss.

How he missed them. It wasn’t like anything he had ever experienced before. There was an emptiness within him, an ache that would only be soothed by being reunited with those he loved. Rolling over onto his side, James grabbed hold of a pillow and held it tight, doing his best to make himself believe it was Meliana wrapped in his arms. However, such action proved to only strengthen his feelings of loss.

Giving up on trying to ease his pain, he worked to empty his mind of all thought and seek the solace of sleep. It was still hours before dawn, the clock on the stand between the beds read 3:14. Closing his eyes, he banished all thoughts that sought to intrude and kept his attention focused on breathing. In…out. In…out. In this way, he managed to slip closer toward oblivion.

Just as he began to dream again, something tickled the back of his mind. In his near-sleep state, he barely acknowledged the intrusive feeling and rolled over onto his other side. Again, he began slipping further toward sleep’s waiting arms only to once more be brought back to near wakefulness.

He langoured in the half-asleep, half-awake state for several more minutes before the nagging in the back of his mind grew more pronounced, and drew him the rest of the way from sleep’s clutches.

Eyes now open, he lay there in the dark. Still not sure exactly what was bugging him, he glanced about the room only to find everything normal. He did notice a slight discomfort in his bladder that may have been the culprit. Thinking about it for another minute, he figured that’s what it had to have been. So, in the hopes of being able to return to sleep, he slipped out of bed and made his way toward the bathroom.

Just as he rounded the bed and began heading for the bathroom door, he came to a startled halt. For coming from the crack between the bottom of the door and the floor, was light. And not the steady light one would expect from the bathroom’s lighting. Instead, this light alternately grew brighter and dimmer in no set pattern.

The light was a mixture of red, blue, and green and not unusually bright. He watched as it suddenly grew brighter, then slowly diminished only to slowly return to its former brilliance. There was no pattern to the brightness, it came and went at varying speeds. Not only that, but the hue of the light changed too. As he watched, it changed from its original color to that of purple, then a dark red, then to a brighter pink.

This was the source of his discomfort. He could feel it like a prickling upon the skin and knew it for what it was. Magic. Beyond this door, magic was being worked.

“Jiron!” James whispered urgently.

In a snap, the one-time Pit fighter was instantly awake.

James directed his attention to the light coming from the other side of the door. “Magic,” he explained.

“But…,” began Jiron when sudden realization hit that Jira was not in bed with him. “Jira!” he shouted. His cry had barely subsided when the light vanished from beyond the door. Fearing for his daughter, he snatched up his knife and flew for the door. Visions of evil mages using his daughter for who knew what drove him forward as his shoulder smashed the door from its hinges.

James was right behind him and immediately hit the light switch. What they saw surprised both men. Jira stood alone in the tub, eyes wide with fear as she stared at her father. Both hands were clutched behind her back and she was visibly trembling.

James was the first to notice the small fact that one of those small bottles of shampoo motels supply to their guests hovered a few inches above the edge of the tub.

“Jira!” her father exclaimed with relief. He started forward to collect his daughter in his arms when he realized her fear had not subsided, that she was in fact fearful of
him!
“Jira?” he asked, perplexed.

Tears welled in her eyes. “I…I didn’t…Kenny let me use it!”

Of all the things she could have said, this was about as far from what he was expecting as possible. “Use…what?”

Her little arm moved from behind her back. Clutched in her hand was the birthday present James had given Kenny not very long ago. It was Kenny’s wand.