Light in the Barren Lands: Travail of The Dark Mage Book One (4 page)

The manor house sat in the middle of a clearing another hundred yards farther ahead. A two storied structure, it also had a wooden tower that rose from its center to just above the treetops. Made to blend in with its surroundings, one could see most of the southern part of the island from the observation platform at the top. James always asserted that he had it built for the panoramic view it afforded, but Jiron knew better. From its height, James could wreak some serious hurt on anyone so foolish as to test his resolve.

Set away from the house on the north side of the clearing was a smaller, single storied building in which lived the couple who took care of things, Sty and Lorri Grell. Behind the house stood a storage shed and a small stable housing three horses, a yearling, and a pony. Somewhere in the forest just east of the house were several fenced acres containing a herd of six cows and one bull.

The old man, Sty, was busy pruning back a stand of berry vines that had grown wild over the summer. Picking shriveled berries from the pruned vines and throwing them toward a nearby bird was a young boy of four.

“Kenny!” shouted Jira when she saw him. Running forward, she tackled him and the pair began wrestling and giggling.

Sty turned to them and nodded a greeting. “You’ll find the Lady in the house,” he said, then returned to his pruning. By
Lady
he meant Meliana. She was the Lady, while James was always referred to as the Master of the house in one form or another, at least by Sty and his wife. Though treated as equals, their sense of propriety forbade them to become overly personal with those they served.

“Thank you, Sty,” Aleya said.

About that time, the front door to the manor opened and Meliana rushed out. “You’re here!” she said with great joy. Being cooped up on an island was great for James, but Meliana preferred more social contact than what was available in so remote a locale.

Aleya met her halfway and the two women embraced. “So good to see you again,” she said.

About to reply, Meliana was forestalled when her son let out a wail.

“She hit me!” he cried in little kid fashion.

The adults turned to find Kenny crying on the ground and Jira standing over him.

“Jira!” admonished Aleya.

Turning eyes wary of retribution to her mother, the young girl said, “We were just playing.” She then turned the most innocent look upon her father, one that he knew well. He had seen it often enough at home.

“You will be more careful with your cousin,” her mother told her.

“Yes, mother,” Jira replied.

Kenny leapt from the ground and raced to his mother, burying his face in the folds of her dress.

Patting him on the back, his mother said, “It’s alright Kenny. I’m sure she didn’t mean it.”

“She does like to play hard,” Jiron said. Still meeting his daughter’s gaze, he gave her that look all fathers give their children, warning of dire consequences should inappropriate behavior be repeated. “You will take it easier from now on?”

Lowering her eyes, she said in a subdued voice, “Yes, father.”

“Sorry about that,” he said, turning his attention to the aggrieved boy’s mother.

Giving him a grin, Meliana said, “I understand.” And before he could ask, she said, “James is up at his workshop.”

“Go ahead, dear,” Aleya told him. “Meliana and I have a lot of catching up to do.”

Knowing when he was being dismissed, most likely so they could talk about him and James, he gave her a grin. “As you wish.”

“Can I come?” asked Jira.

“You know your uncle’s workshop is off limits to squirts,” he said. “Stay here and play with your cousin.” Then giving his wife a peck on the cheek, he headed to the trail leading to the workshop. Pausing after two steps, he turned back to his daughter and said, “Keep your knives sheathed.”

“Yes, father,” she replied, looking slightly disappointed. There was nothing she liked better than to exhibit her fighting prowess.

Giving her one more warning look to do as she was told, he turned back and headed for the workshop.

The workshop was over a mile from the house. Originally it had been located much closer but an experiment gone wrong took out much of the surrounding forest. Had it been any worse, the blast zone may have extended as far as the house. After that, James’ workshop had been relocated to a place farther east where a ridge of hilly terrain provided the manor with a buffer zone. And for those experiments that held the greatest risk of turning destructive, there was a second area on the other end of the island to the north.

Jiron always enjoyed James’ island. Most times the weather was pretty good, though the winter could be bad, with fierce storms blowing in across the water. The air was clear and clean; the whole
place
was clean as a matter of fact. He never knew anyone so fastidious about cleanliness. Garbage had a specific spot, and James even had water running through his house.

That had been one of the first things James had working once his house was finished. Built near a stream as it was, it had been a simple matter to construct ceramic conveyances that reminded Jiron of a mini representation of the numerous sewers he and James had encountered.

One large pipe brought in fresh water from the stream, which was then divided into two smaller ones upon entering the house. One went to a large holding tank from which water was drawn for cooking and bathing. The other flowed continuously through the two indoor outhouses carrying bodily waste back to the stream and out to sea.

That part bothered James, and on one of Jiron’s previous visits, he had tried to fix it only to come to the conclusion that what little he and his family put out was not worth the time and trouble to worry about, especially seeing as how their drinking water was in no way connected with the outflow from the house.

Thoughts of the innovative ideas James had come up with occupied his mind during the walk out to the workshop area. When the path began its upward slope toward cresting a hill, he knew he was getting close. Almost to the summit of the small hill, a cloud of mist seemed to materialize in the air before him. Wondering what new thing James had added, he came to a stop.

The cloud quickly formed into a short, stubby creature. It was shaped like a man but with a slightly greenish aspect and had pointy ears. Round oval eyes stared out at Jiron, and if he had met such a thing anywhere but there, he would have been nervous.

“The Master is busy and cannot be disturbed,” the creature said. Seeming to float six inches above the ground, the creature fixed Jiron with its oval eyes and waited.

“Tell the Master that Jiron is here to see him.”

The creature reacted not at all to his words. Unfazed and unmoving, it continued to bar his way.

Jiron moved to walk around the creature only to have it match his movements and remain in his way. About to try again, the creature said, “The Master is ready for you.” Then it passed from solid to gaseous in the blink of an eye before being blown apart by the breeze.

“Interesting,” he said to himself and continued down the path.

As he crested the hill, the roof of James’ workshop came into view through the trees and he hurried down the other side. After following the path over another, smaller hill, Jiron emerged from out of the trees and into the clearing.

The workshop stood not far away. It was but a single room wherein James kept all the items useful to his experiments and where he could work out of the rain during inclement weather. Three glass globes were attached to the workshop right above the door; one red, one green, and the other yellow. The yellow globe was currently glowing. From past visits he knew that the yellow globe signified a ship had docked; in this case,
The Water Sprite
.

The red would alert him that one of his roving sentries had encountered an intruder and was waiting for further instructions. Should that happen, he would move into the workshop to a mirrored tabletop where he would find the intruder and then determine what, if any, action would be called for. The only time a sentry would act autonomously was if it was attacked either by magic or physical force.

The green alerted James that his presence was required back at the house. Most times it simply meant that a meal was about to be served and he had better hightail it back before it grew cold. Meliana used to hold meals for him, but after the second occasion of waiting until the food was cold, told him that if he didn’t come on time it was his own fault. He had less than a half-hour to make it back to the house before the meal would start without him.

There was a new addition to the clearing that Jiron had never seen before. Not far from the workshop sat a round platform made of wood with half a dozen crystals evenly spaced around the outer edge of the surface. James was bent over the platform and had a flat-head screwdriver in hand as he worked on the setting of one of the crystals.

Jiron kept quiet as he came closer. He knew that James was aware of his presence and didn’t want to disturb him should he be in the midst of something critical. When he was but ten feet away, James glanced over his shoulder.

“Jiron,” he said with a grin. “Glad you and your family could make it.” Around his waist was secured the slug belt that had been with him since before the end of the Empire/Madoc war. But it had been modified so that now instead of only having slots for his slugs, it had three pockets, each able to hold a crystal.

“Wouldn’t miss the chance to come out here for anything,” his friend replied.

Setting the screwdriver down on the platform, James turned and gave his friend a hearty hug. “Man it’s good to see you,” he said. “Family at the house?”

He nodded. “Jira and Kenny are already at play.”

“Kenny cry yet?” he asked. From past experiences, he well knew Jira’s predisposition to play rough.

Jiron chuckled. “Yes, and I’m sorry for that.”

James shrugged. “He doesn’t get to play with others his own age much,” he explained. “Jira’s good for him, even if the price is a few tears.” He loved his son dearly, but wished Meliana wouldn’t mother him so. With Jira here for the next couple weeks, Kenny would have ample opportunity to get into trouble the way a boy should. He was by far one of the most timid boys James had ever known.

Nodding toward the platform, he said, “That’s one of the reasons I’m working on this.”

“Oh?” asked Jiron. Coming closer, he gave it a more thorough inspection. “What is it?”

“Do you remember those portals the priests of Dmon-Li used to move from temple to temple?”

“Yes,” he replied.

“I hope to make this do the same thing,” he said.

“Does it work?” he asked.

“Not quite. There are still a few bugs to work out.” Leaving the platform behind, he walked with Jiron over to the workshop. Inside, he went to an upright ceramic box and opened the door. A puff of cold air came out as he reached inside to remove a bottle of ale.

“My refrigerator,” he said with a grin. “Good to keep things cold on warm days.” Pulling the cork, he took a drink before handing the bottle to Jiron.

After draining the last of the ale, Jiron wiped his mouth and said, “You never cease to amaze me.”

“Frankly, I grew tired of not having a cold drink when I’m working. So I put this together. Rather easy, actually.”

“Easy you say,” Jiron replied, rolling his eyes. “You do things with magic no one has ever thought of before.”

“Perhaps,” he said. “But most people think of magic in terms of a weapon, or to accomplish grandiose stuff. I, on the other hand, think of ways in which to make my life better.”

“Like keeping your ale cool?” he asked with a grin.

Opening up the refrigerator again, he removed another bottle. “You know it.”

The interior of his workshop was very similar to the one he had back at The Ranch; two worktables with uncompleted projects lying atop them, a rack of tools hung on one wall, and a stack of boards leaning in a corner waiting to be used. The only difference was a flat, mirrored table in the far corner. James found it much preferable to use a wide surface for viewing rather than that of a small, hand held mirror.

There were also two barrels in the corner, one filled with slugs and the other crystals of varying size. During his experiments, he went through crystals like a carpenter goes through nails. In fact, a long handled broom was propped in the corner with shards of many broken crystals lying swept to the wall beside it.

Taking a seat at the worktable, James glanced to his friend. “If I can make teleportation work, you won’t have to make the long journey out here when you visit. Instead, merely step on a similar portal there, and step off here.”

“Aleya would like that,” he said. “She often wishes to visit with Meliana, especially when the days are short and the snow is deep.”

“Meliana feels the same way,” he admits. Once it’s ready, I plan to have the master portal here at the island. Then I’ll construct another in Miko’s temple, and a third in Corillian at her father’s estate.”

“So what’s the problem?” he asked.

“Come on, I’ll show you.”

Returning back outside, he didn’t walk toward the platform as Jiron had expected. Instead, he headed over to the edge of the forest. Upon reaching the treeline, he stopped and pointed to the ground.

It was hard to tell exactly what it had originally been. Maggots had done, and were still doing, quite a job. They had already reduced its size by a third. “It is, or rather was, a fish,” James explained. Squatting, James picked up a stick and inserted it in the mass. Lifting, he revealed that the inside was covered in scales. “I sent it through from the platform at the other end of the island. And when it arrived, it was inside out.”

“That would be a problem,” agreed Jiron.

“You got that right,” replied James with a sigh. “Whatever I send through, whether it be from here to there, or there to here, ends up like that fish.”

“Well, I’m sure you will figure it out.”

“Eventually.” Tossing the stick to the ground, he stood back up and glanced over his shoulder to the workshop. The green sphere was glowing. “Time to eat,” he announced.