Magician's Heir

by D Bruce Cotton

  An intense, overpowering scent of vanilla flooded the small room. Adam’s eyes snapped shut and visions exploded in his head, fast and strobe-like: a bent old man, face hidden behind a black cowl, walking toward him with a tall, metal staff in one gnarled fist; the gray face of a woman with sunken cheeks, stringy black hair and wide, burning red eyes; a gray-skinned man walking toward him, growing taller and taller until he towered high in the air; people fleeing through the streets of a village as fires raged, sweeping from house to house; the dark outline of a figure hanging by the neck from a tall tree; blinding bolts of lightning flashing in all directions; a green field covered with dirt-mounded graves.

  Adam forced his eyes open. Sweat blurred his vision, but he didn’t dare close them again. Sensing movement, he looked down to see the bottle overturned, brown pellets scattered across the floor. Two of the beans from the dropped bottle sat in his rising palm.

  No matter how hard he strained, he had no control over his hand. Closer and closer it came until the two beans entered his mouth. Despite the pleasant scent of vanilla, they tasted vile. A flavor like rotten meat filled his mouth. Gagging, his guts clenched against the foul taste.

  The pellets hit Adam’s stomach like twin bombs, his stomach exploding in agony. The muscles of his neck stood out like steel cables, his mouth opening wide in a silent scream. Then his mind shattered and everything faded to black.

  Chapter 2, Awakening

  Consciousness returned slowly and with no small amount of pain. Adam sat up with care. One hand held his throbbing head while the other pressed against his tender stomach. The remnants of the horrible taste made him gag, and he spat off to the side. A cool breeze blew through sweaty hair.

  Breeze? What...?

  Opening his eyes, Adam sat with his legs dangling over the side of a rectangular slab of rock about twice the size of the bed in his apartment. As he looked around, he felt an immediate stab of dizziness. An enormous valley spread out thousands of feet below him. Treetops—their leaves a dazzling assortment of reds and yellows—dominated the view. A river cut its way through the thick forest in a meandering line. Far to the west, sunlight reflected off what appeared to be a large lake or inland sea.

  Adam scrabbled back from the edge of the rocky shelf. “What the...?” he whispered. “Where am I?”

  He remembered sitting on his bed, the two brown pellets forced into his mouth by his own hand. The foul taste, a bolt of terrible pain and then... he woke up here.

  “What did he put in that bottle? Some kind of poison?” His mind scrambled for an answer. “No, not poison. Some kind of drug... a hallucinogen.

  “That’s got to be it. But why? Why would a complete stranger give me something like that? And how did he make me swallow them?”

  Adam shook his still tender head. Why didn’t matter right now. He just had to get through this somehow. The stuff Max gave him had to wear off sometime... didn’t it?

  Standing with care, he took another look around. Behind him, a sheer rock wall curved around to both sides. That left nowhere to go but down. Past the edge of the rock shelf, uneven stone blocks provided a crooked stairway most of the way down the steep mountainside. At the bottom, he saw the faint outline of a path winding back and forth to the valley.

  A wave of dizziness forced him to sit. Heights had always made him a little woozy. Then he got an idea. Adam pulled the cell phone from his pocket. I’ll just call...

  The screen flashed NO SERVICE. That makes no sense, he thought. I’m up high enough to get some kind of signal. Back on his feet, Adam moved around the stone platform, careful to avoid the edge, and watched the screen for bars indicating a cell tower signal. Nothing.

  “Okay, let’s try something else,” he mumbled, punching in 911. Cell phones used any available signal to complete an emergency call. Pressing SEND, he held the phone to his ear. Dead silence. Maybe it’s broken, he thought. Adam stuffed the phone back in his front pocket with a sigh. Looks like I’m on my own.

  Steeling himself, Adam lay on his stomach and backed over the edge of the stone ledge. With a tight hold on the lip, he lowered himself, trying not to think about the fall below him. The edge of the stone slab ground against his leg and wedged the phone out of his pocket. It fell with a crash to the ledge below. When his toes touched stone, he let go and fell to his knees. Thousands of shattered pieces littered the platform.

  “Damn it!” he shouted. Slumping back against the stone ledge, he cradled his head in his arms and tried to think. This is crazy! What is this place? And how am I going to get home? He sat there for several minutes, just hoping it would somehow all go away.

  But it didn’t. And sitting here wouldn’t change anything. Adam climbed back to his feet and tackled the next step. One by one, he worked down the giant stone staircase. The uneven surface scraped his fingers raw, and both hands cramped with the effort. The sides of the stone steps bruised his shins, and he had to pause for rest often. But at last, he slid off the final step and onto the dirt path. He mopped his sweaty brow with a handkerchief from his back pocket.

  Removing his jacket, he tied the arms around his waist and then started along the dirt path. It wound back and forth across the lower part of the mountainside. Another hour passed before he reached the valley floor. But when he glanced at his watch, the time behind the cracked crystal read 7:15. After a quick shake, he held it to his ear. Nothing. It must have hit something during the climb. “This just isn’t my day,” he sighed.

  The path continued toward the forest. Adam had never been the outdoorsy type, but the hike didn’t appear too bad. The air here smelled different, too; clean and fresh as though untouched by pollution of any kind.

  As he approached the forest, he took a closer look at the trees. A few he recognized: yellow pine, oak, cottonwood, sweet gum and white birch. But one species he’d never seen before. Those trees had huge trunks—a good ten feet around at least—with a rough gray bark. They towered above even the tallest pines, with thick limbs and huge, leathery leaves. Adam stopped to pick up a fallen one. Even up close the leaf appeared old, like weathered hide. But a fine coat of tiny hair-like strands covered the surface, and the leaf gave off a faint scent of eucalyptus. He sure hadn’t seen any trees like this around Elliston.

  Then he realized another difference. In Elliston, the trees and grass showed the first luxurious green of early spring. But here, autumn held sway. The trees shone with bright reds and yellows: the ground covered in a colorful carpet.

  The temperature dropped a few degrees as he walked into the deep shade of the forest. Birdsong and chittering squirrels kept him company. Once, a red fox darted across his path and into the underbrush. Time passed, and he reached the river he’d seen from above. His trail joined a wider path following the contours of the river to the east and west.

  Now he faced a dilemma. Should he go upstream or down? Then he remembered the glimpse of water he’d seen far off in the distance. If this river flowed into the lake, maybe he’d have a better chance of finding people there.

  “West it is then, but first...” Making his way to the edge of the river, Adam knelt to scoop up a handful of water. It seemed clear, but he knew the danger of drinking water from an open stream. After such a long hike though... He scooped up another double-handful and drank it. Most of the water trickled away between his fingers, but it tasted cool and sweet. He drank another scoop just as fast. Before he knew it, he’d drunk his fill.

  Adam stood up and dried his mouth on a shirt sleeve. Then he climbed back up to the path and turned right to head downstream. This wider path looked more like a simple road, the dirt hard-packed and marked with occasional flat rocks like paving stones. It gave him confidence he might find help if he kept going.

  Several miles passed, with occasional stops for another drink from the river. Adam wondered if he’d reach the lake before nightfall. With the sun past its apex and disappearing behind the trees ahead of him, the coolness of dusk fast approached. A quick glance at
his watch led to a silent curse. You never realize how much you miss your watch until you need it.

  Back on the trail after another water break, he felt a sudden stab of uneasiness. Listening hard, he glanced all around. Something bothered him, but he couldn’t put a finger on it. At last, he headed west again, keeping a close eye out for trouble. His heavy boots clumped along the dirt and stone trail, loud enough to hear over the gurgle of the river.

  That’s it, he realized, freezing in place. It’s too quiet. The birds had gone silent. And he saw no other animals, either. Only the low chuckle of the river below and the harsh rasp of his own breath indicated he hadn’t been struck with sudden deafness.

  Adam continued along the trail, staying as quiet as possible. With no other alternatives, he determined to keep a sharp eye out so he’d be ready to run. Farther along, he froze again. A loud thrashing noise came from the underbrush to his left. Afraid it might be a wild animal of some kind, he looked around for a rock or branch to use as a weapon.

  Before he found anything, the bushes rustled once more, and parted. Out onto the road stumbled a woman. She wore a long, ragged dress. At one time it might have been a light blue, but now the torn garment had dirt and mud ground deep into the fabric. Even dirtier, the woman had long, stringy black hair matted with leaves and mud.

  Adam’s first instinct was to help. “Ma’am? Are... are you all right?

  The woman’s head snapped up at the sound of his voice. Filth covered her face, but under the caked dirt, burning red eyes looked out from ghastly, gray-white skin. Lips drew back from rotten teeth in a feral hiss as she lurched to her feet.

  Shocked, Adam froze. The woman staggered closer, her movements slow and uncoordinated. Her head jerked left and right as she searched for him. Arms extended, her fingers curled into stiff claws, dirt caked under the ragged nails.

  “Get back!” he rasped. “St-stay away from me!”

  Matted hair whirled as she spun and lunged at him. Both crashed to the ground in a tangle of arms and legs. Adam cried out, his back grinding against the uneven pathway as the woman landed on top of him. By sheer luck, his left forearm wedged into her neck. She stretched forward to snap at him and black drool splattered from her mouth onto his face and chest. A terrible stench, like a dead animal lying for days under the hot sun, made him gag.

  Adam stretched out his right arm, reaching for something... anything to serve as a weapon, but found only dirt. He slammed his fist into her ear once... twice. But the bad angle kept him from putting much force behind the blows and the woman didn’t seem to feel them. Grimy hands jerked his hair, pulling him closer to those snapping teeth.

  Adam’s left arm burned with the strain. Clawed hands ripped clumps of his hair out by the roots. The thing’s teeth got closer and closer. In desperation, he forced his right arm between them, trying to push her off. Fumbling fingers came across something stuck in the front pocket of his shirt... an ink pen!

  Adam ripped it loose and took a firm grip, then stabbed the pen into the woman’s ear. Dead, black blood splattered over his arm and chest. The woman went limp, collapsing in top of him. Adam pushed her dead weight to the side and crab-walked back on all fours to get away.

  Gagging, he made it to the edge of the road before throwing up in the undergrowth. Adam’s stomach heaved and clenched. At last, with nothing but a hollow space in his belly, he crawled down the embankment to the river’s edge and tried to scrub the stink from his skin and clothes. The foul blood and spittle washed off his face and arms, but no matter how hard he scrubbed, the black splatters on his shirt wouldn’t come out. A black stain covered his right shirt sleeve to the elbow. After doing all he could, he took a long drink to wash the taste of bile from his mouth.

  Adam steeled himself. Then he climbed back up to the road to examine the body. The dead woman sprawled on her back, blank eyes staring up at the sky. Sticky blood pooled around her head. Adam took shallow breaths through his mouth and forced himself to look closer. Then he got another shock.

  “I’ve seen her before!” he exclaimed. The almost forgotten visions from his apartment flashed through his head. He’d assumed they were all part of the same hallucination, but if this one came true...

  “...then the rest might, too,” he said aloud. “Oh, man! I’m in real trouble here. I’ve got to figure out how to get out of this hallucination... dream... whatever it is!”

  A sense of hopelessness fell over him then. The delusion had now proven dangerous, maybe even deadly. And he had no idea how to get out of it. All well and good to tell himself to keep moving, to wait it out, but now he’d never know if or when he might run into another one of those... things. Determined to ready himself, he searched through the undergrowth until he found a straight tree branch about six feet long and almost the thickness of his wrist. The branch had the same gray bark as the giant leatherleaf trees. Snapping off the few small branches proved no trouble, and the bark peeled away far easier than he’d expected. When finished, he had a smooth, light piece of wood with good balance. In a pinch, it would serve well as a weapon.

  Adam grasped the staff in a firm grip and headed out again. By the time the woman’s body dropped out of sight, the birds and other wildlife reappeared. He breathed a small sigh of relief and made a mental note to pay closer attention. Only then could he hope to survive and get back home.

  A few hours later, it became clear he’d never reach the lake or any kind of civilization before nightfall. Worried he might run into another of the creatures in the dark, he kept an eye out for a suitable tree. A tall one not too difficult to climb might just keep him safe through the night ahead.

  A short time later, he found a likely candidate in the widespread limbs of an ancient oak. Adam slid the staff through his belt and jumped high to snag one of the lower branches and pull himself up. After a careful ascent, he found a spot where several close-knit limbs provided a comfortable nest sturdy enough to lessen his fear of heights. Adam wedged his walking stick between some limbs just in front of him to keep it safe and provide a barrier he hoped might offer some security through the night.

  Full darkness arrived soon after. Despite his exhaustion, sleep remained elusive as the events of the day kept running through his mind. When he did fall asleep, crashes in the underbrush below wakened him several times. Whether animals or more of those things, he didn’t know. But each one passed by, unaware of Adam perched high in the air.

  Untying his jacket, he pulled it on against the cool night air. After zipping it up, he crossed his arms for warmth and thought about what he would do the next day. Should he go back, remain here or continue toward the lake? Who knows? he thought. Maybe I’ll even wake up back in my apartment. With that pleasant thought, Adam dropped off to sleep.

  Chapter 3, Lakeshore

  Adam awoke with a jerk, smacking his chest against the staff.

  “Ow!” For a moment, he looked around in confusion, unsure where he was. Then everything came flooding back. Mumbling a curse under his breath, he rubbed the crust from his eyes. So much for waking up back in my apartment.

  Adam’s stomach growled as he untangled the staff and slipped it back through his belt. With nothing to eat since lunch back at the shop yesterday—or maybe the day before?—he felt a little lightheaded from hunger. After reaching the bottom limb, he crouched and checked out the area before jumping. The ground stung his feet when he landed, muscles stiff and sore from a cold night spent in the tree. Pulling the staff from his belt, he walked back to the road, careful to remain as quiet as possible.

  It still didn’t appear to be much of a road, though in the light of day, the well-packed dirt with its occasional piece of stone seemed wider now. Adam made his way to the river to rinse his mouth. He finger-brushed his teeth and drank deep to fill his empty stomach. As satisfied as possible with plain water for breakfast, he made his way back up to the road.

  Parked in the middle of the dirt roadway he found a small wagon crowded with barrels. The wagon�
��s driver, a short, wiry old man, held the reins to a huge gray gelding with hairy fetlocks.

  “Ah, good morrow to you, young sir!” said the old man in a deep, rumbling voice.

  Surprised, Adam took a step back, his staff held in front of him. “Who are you?” he asked. “You’re not one of those... creatures, are you?”

  Adam peered at the old man. He wore a much-patched brown vest over a baggy, white linen shirt. The shirt hung over brown woolen trousers tucked into supple, knee-high leather boots. Though well-worn, his clothes appeared clean, unlike the woman who had attacked Adam the previous day. A battered straw hat covered the old man’s head and white smoke drifted from the bowl of a long curved pipe at the corner of his mouth. But the old man’s wide smile put Adam’s fears to rest. It lit up his clean-shaven face and made his eyes twinkle with merriment.

  “Oh, so she was your handiwork, then?” replied the old man. “Well done, I must say. The Unsouled can be difficult to handle for a man alone, especially if they come upon you unaware.”

  Adam shuddered as he remembered the woman’s cold, dead eyes. “Unsouled? Is that what you call them? It sounds... appropriate somehow.”

  The man nodded. “Aye, indeed, young sir. Creations of the Dark Mage and his foul arts they are. It is fortunate we met. These days the road to Lakeshore is one best not traveled alone. There are many such dangers out here in the wild.” The old man climbed down from the wagon. Doffing his hat, he gave a stiff bow. Then he extended his other hand. “Osler Dunham, at your service.”

  Adam moved the staff back to his side and stepped forward to shake hands. “Adam Gray. I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Dunham.”