Tides of Faith: Travail of The Dark Mage Book Two

by Brian S. Pratt

  Nodding, James said, “That’s right.”

  “And from what I have heard from others, his skill with knives is unsurpassed.”

  “Scar and Potbelly tell you that?”

  Miko nodded and shrugged. “They came for a visit and drank a bit too much. I learned many things that night.”

  “Such as my doppelganger they concocted?”

  He grinned. “I doubt if they even realized they told me. Do you know they still plan on capturing a hell hound and using it in the Pits?”

  “I thought they gave up that idea long ago.”

  “Not so. They have not yet figured out how to do it, or where to find one, but the desire remains.”

  James sighed and shook his head. “I hope they never do. It would eat them alive.”

  “And that is why they have not gone for one yet.”

  Tick-Tick-Tick

  From the side of the room, a noise drew their attention. There they found Kip and Jira standing before two tables upon which was laid the equipment James and Jiron had brought from Earth. Kip had the Geiger counter in his hand and was frantically trying to silence it.

  “Kip!”

  Hearing Miko call his name, the young Novice put the counter behind his back and whirled to face him. “What? Oh… uh, yes, Reverend Father?”

  “It’s alright,” James assured him. To Kip, he motioned for the lad to come forward.

  “I…I’m sorry,” he stammered as he brought the Geiger counter out from behind his back.

  Jira looked on in alarm. “You aren’t going to fry him, are you Uncle?”

  In an instant, Kip’s embarrassed countenance turned to panic.

  “Not this time,” James replied, while at the same time giving the Novice a stern gaze. “Though you might want to think twice before touching my things again. Some of it might get mad at you.” He winked at Miko but kept his face severe.

  “Yes, sir.”

  James took the Geiger counter that still clicked with background radiation and flipped the switch. The clicking stopped.

  Eyeing the counter with interest, Miko said, “I have been meaning to ask you about that, and the other items.”

  “Kip, why don’t you and Jira play Bones and Daggers while the Reverend Father and I talk.”

  Glad for any excuse to beat a hasty retreat, Kip nodded. “Sure.” Taking Jira by the hand he went to their favored spot upon Kip’s cot and began setting out the pieces.

  Once they were otherwise occupied, James returned his attention to Miko. Holding up the counter, he spoke in a hushed whisper, “I mean for us to recover the Star.”

  Miko’s eyes widened. “You cannot be serious. The entire area is death for anyone who enters.”

  “I know. Remember how I told you that the explosion taking out Dmon-Li’s High Temple had been similar to what in my world would be called a nuclear explosion?”

  “Yes. I recall you said that what killed everything was something called, ‘radiation’.”

  “Precisely.” He patted the Geiger counter. “This is designed to detect radiation. It clicks when radiation is near.”

  Miko glanced to the Counter with concern. “It was clicking just now.”

  “Don’t worry about that. My people have long since known that radiation is everywhere. The slow clicking you heard is merely indicating the presence of ‘background radiation,’ which is harmless.”

  “But, how will knowing where the radiation is aid in retrieving the Star?” He had thought about making the attempt, but feared the invisible death unleashed five years before.

  “It won’t, by itself. But…” he gestured toward the two bulky packages containing the radiation suits, “with these, we can get it. When worn, they will protect us against the harmful effects of the radiation. All we need to do is walk in and get it. I trust that once there, you will be able to locate it?”

  Miko nodded. “Oh, yes. That should not be a problem. Get me close, and it will call to me.”

  “That’s what I was hoping.”

  Alongside the suits rested the box containing Meliana’s box of chocolates and the six cocoa pods. With luck, he would be able to find a suitable location in which they can thrive.

  Then there were the books. From the looks of it, someone had been going through them, most likely that rascal, Kip. James grinned as he imagined how the lad would have reacted to what was within. Most of it would be words unintelligible to anyone from this world. Of course, having been raised on the streets, it was unlikely the boy was literate. The diagrams and pictures would have proven of interest though. Hopefully, none of the “secrets” of his world had taken root. His grin turned into a full blown chuckle when he thought how such would violate the Prime Directive.

  Miko cocked an eye his way.

  James waved off the question. “It’s nothing.”

  “Indeed. Go to sleep.”

  “Yes, your most Reverend Self.”

  Making to swat him, Miko grinned. “Keep up that ‘Reverend Self’ stuff, and I will see you get nothing but gruel during your convalescence.”

  “That would be better than some of the food we’ve shared together.”

  “True enough.”

  James finally relented, or perhaps his body could take no more, and closed his eyes.

  Coming to his feet, Miko crossed to where Kip and Jira played Bones and Daggers. Kip’s daggers had already decimated Jira’s and were closing in on her bones. Miko figured she wouldn’t last much longer, but her imminent loss didn’t appear to bother her. She had an intent look as she studied the board, trying to find the next, best move. Unfortunately, there weren’t any.

  He caught Kip’s eye as he approached. “Keep things quiet while they rest.” He then indicated Jira with a nod of his head.

  “Yes, Reverend Father.”

  As he made his way across the room to the door, he heard Jira exclaim, “Rat poop!” followed by Kip’s “Another game?” He hoped the boy would take it easy and allow her to win one.

  Once outside, he headed for his chambers. It had been several long days since time allowed any chance for relaxation. There was simply too much going on. He enjoyed having James at the temple, he just wished that it had been under better circumstances. His mind awhirl with plans and possibilities, he failed to notice Father Tullin coming down the corridor toward him until they were but feet apart.

  “Ah, Reverend Father.” Hailing his superior, the younger priest came to a stop. With sword on the left and dagger on his right, and dressed in tattered, brown leathers rather than his priestly attire, Father Tullin looked more the thug, than one of spirituality. But then, most of his priests did as they were drawn from that segment of the populace.

  Coming to a stop, Miko noticed the Father seemed rather tense. “Yes, Father Tullin?”

  “You have a visitor.”

  “At this late hour? Perhaps you could have him return in the morning.” Ready to resume his progress to hearth and bed, Miko was brought up short.

  “I do not believe this can wait.” Lowering his voice, Father Tullin added, “The cat’s tail has been caught.”

  Miko took the information with less than sublime equanimity. The cat’s tail has been caught, is a saying referring to how a rumor can be elusive, yet travels quickly like a cat. And when the tails have been caught, it means the truth of the rumor has been discovered. It was a rather archaic saying, but one that still surfaced from time to time.

  There was only one rumor that he and his priests were concerned with at the moment, and that was the presence of The Dark Mage within the temple. If someone had figured out that he was there…

  Miko nodded and signaled for Father Tullin to lead the way. “Is he alone?”

  “Yes, Reverend Father.”

  His study wasn’t far away, and after a right turn down a converging corridor, soon came to the door. “Remain here. Let no one in.” As Father Tullin bowed and took his position before the door, Miko pushed the door open.

  A man, s
lightly shorter than himself, stood before the fireplace with back to the door. But even still, Miko readily recognized him. “Hello, Tinok.”

  Long time, boyhood friend of Jiron’s, Tinok was a dark, brooding man. Having lost his bride on the night of their marriage to bandits had done something to him. Years afterward had been spent in the methodical hunt and execution of men of importance in the Empire. He blamed them for her death, and had killed many before his capture. Now, he spent much of his time in the Pits, venting anger that never cooled.

  From the blood staining the front of his tunic, it was clear he had just come from a fight. As usual, there wasn’t a mark on him. His prowess with knives was only eclipsed by Jiron’s.

  “Where’s Jiron?” No preamble, no salutary greeting, just a direct question.

  Miko indicated a chair. “Please sit.”

  Tinok remained where he was. “Is he here?”

  “What makes you think that he is here?”

  Tinok’s gaze was penetrating, the perpetual frown remained steadfast in place. “Rumors are flying about how James was killed. Your temple was in an uproar for two days but has now calmed.”

  “Merely shaking things up a bit. Keeping them on their toes.”

  “Don’t lie to me.”

  A veiled threat? “I have not.”

  Dark, piercing eyes bored into his. “Is he here?” When Miko didn’t readily answer, he nodded. “I thought so. Where is he?”

  “Recovering, but that stays between you and me.”

  “Since he was visiting James, I take it he’s here too?”

  Perceptive little bugger. “Yes. His island was attacked, and through means magical, managed to bring himself, Jiron and Jira here. All three were on the verge of death. My priests and I healed their wounds.”

  “What about his wife?”

  “Safe with Meliana and Kenny at Meliana’s father’s estate in Corillian.”

  Quiet reigned between them for a moment. “Was it the Empire?”

  “We do not know.”

  Again, silence.

  “Jiron is unconscious and isn’t to have any visitors.”

  Tinok’s eyes narrowed.

  Miko met his gaze without flinching. He rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, though doubted if Tinok posed any serious threat. At least he hoped so. The man was hard to read and for him, that in itself spoke volumes. Those dark eyes remained riveted on his, unblinking and unwavering.

  “So be it.”

  As Tinok turned to go, Miko said, “Try not to be seen coming or going. If word should leak out that they are here, it could complicate things.”

  Tinok didn’t say a word as he crossed to the door, swung it open, and left.

  Father Tullin stepped aside as Tinok moved past.

  “Escort him if you would, Father Tullin.”

  “Yes, Reverend Father.” Keeping six steps behind, the priest followed Tinok down the corridor and around the corner.

  Miko watched them go until they rounded the corner and were out of sight. He sagged into a chair before the fire and worried. If Tinok, who rarely left the area near the Pits had figured it out, then how many others had too?

  Minutes ticked by as he considered the problem. When Father Tullin returned to report that Tinok had left the Temple grounds, he had reached a decision. “Father, see if Scar or Potbelly would call upon me in the morning. Tell them nothing about what happened, nor about our late night visitor.”

  Bowing respectfully, Father Tullin backed from the room and set about to carry out Miko’s request.

  Perhaps their doppelganger of James wouldn’t mind putting in an appearance to throw a bar in the runaway rumor mill.

  Chapter Three

  The following morning when Miko went to check on his guests, he found the trio sitting at one of the tables sharing a morning repast. Kip practically hovered around Jiron, his concern for the man’s weakened state driving the one-time Pit fighter to distraction.

  “Leave me alone, boy. I’m not going to topple to the floor.”

  “As you wish.” Backing off barely an inch, Kip retained his position.

  Miko couldn’t help but grin, if for no other reason than Jiron’s discomfiture beneath Kip’s over-protectiveness. “Good morning to you all.”

  James turned and waved him to join them. “Kip and Father Keller were kind enough to supply a feast fit for a king.” Eggs, slabs of bacon, rolls, and a creation of James’ that had taken the baking world by storm over the last couple of years, were laid out upon the table. His creation consisted of a rounded piece of dough with the center cut out, fried in fat, and topped with honey, molasses, or any number of sweet confectionary delights. James called them doughnuts; the bakers called them gold.

  “Thank you. I would be happy to.” Taking the empty chair next to James, Miko helped himself to three of the molasses-topped doughnuts, his personal favorite. He glanced to Kip and saw him grin. His penchant for sweets was well known throughout the Temple, and was certain the number and variety with which they broke their fast played no small role.

  “Tinok knows you are here.” Glancing his way, he could see Jiron’s surprise.

  “How? Are your priests talking?”

  “Hardly. He is far from dim-witted. Once the rumors began circulating, he figured it out.”

  “He always was rather bright.”

  James wasn’t nearly as okay with this. “I don’t know if I like him knowing we’re here. He could tell someone and the game would be over.”

  Jiron shook his head. “I don’t think Tinok would give us away.”

  “Not intentionally, no. But if whoever attacked my island has agents in the city, you can bet he’s being watched.”

  “I cautioned him about keeping on the lookout for spies,” Miko assured.

  “Still, he hasn’t been the same since we rescued him from Ith-Zirul.” Ith-Zirul, the one-time High Temple of Dmon-Li was now but a memory. After Tinok had been captured and taken there, James, Jiron, and a band of rescuers affected his freedom, and in the process destroyed the majority of the evil god’s priesthood, as well as preventing the god from crossing over which would have effectively destroyed the world.

  “He changed long before that.” Taking a roll, Jiron slathered it with a healthy portion of butter. “It was Cassie’s death that did it. Sort of went crazy there for a time.” Taking a bite, he savored the fresh baked goodness that held just a hint of nuttiness.

  “Do not worry, I have someone keeping an eye on him.”

  Jiron turned to Miko. “Do you think that wise? If he finds your man trailing him, things could get ugly.”

  “There is risk in all things. Let me worry about my people.”

  Shrugging, Jiron shoved the remainder of the roll into his mouth and reached for another.

  “Father, when can we leave to see mother?”

  He cast a look into his daughter’s anxious eyes. “Soon.”

  James chuckled. “If you keep eating like that, probably in a couple days.”

  Perking up, she flashed her uncle an expectant look. “Really?”

  “Well, we’re not going to leave until we are certain the journey won’t do him any harm.” He flashed her a grin. “Can’t have him falling off his horse or anything like that.”

  Amused at the image of her father taking a tumble, she giggled.

  The day passed in slow tedium. Being relegated to a single room gave them little to do. They dared not roam the Temple for fear of being recognized. Jiron slept, and Jira played countless games of Bones and Daggers with Kip. Miko stopped in from time to time, but Temple business demanded his attention and kept his visits brief. James, impatient with inaction, paced.

  He liked the fact his magic was back to normal, every hour or so he created his orb just for the familiar feel of doing so. One of his fears after returning from Earth had been whether or not his ability for magic would be affected by his time back home. Since having to acclimatize to Earth’s magical resonance, he fe
ared to have to re-acclimatize to this one. But as it turned out, magic came readily.

  By the time Kip was sent to fetch dinner, Tinok had failed to show. Jiron had regained some of his strength, though he remained unable to rise if Jira was atop him. He had hoped to have been able to speak with his friend.

  Miko returned with Kip and Father Keller to join them for their evening meal. “No sign of Tinok.”

  Frowning, Jiron turned toward Miko. “When you talked with him, did he say he would return?”

  “No. He merely left the room.”

  James glanced his way. “Do you think he’s up to something?”

  Jiron shrugged. “I don’t know. I was certain he would have returned by now.”

  The meal was heartier than the day before, testament to Miko’s belief that they were improving. Slabs of beef, three loaves of bread, an abundant array of fresh vegetables, and of course two dozen tarts, rounded out the meal.

  “Maybe we should go check on him,” James suggested. In actuality, he wanted out of the room more than any belief that Tinok needed to be tracked down.

  Miko cocked an eye at him. “Would that be wise?”

  “Probably not, but we should see.”

  “I will send Father Tullin to the Pits tonight. He is known there and his presence would not arouse suspicion.”

  Getting a quizzical look, James asked, “A priest hangs out at the Pits?”

  “He ‘ministers’ to them.” Miko couldn’t help but crack a grin.

  “He does, huh?” James wasn’t convinced. He knew somewhat of Miko’s burgeoning intelligence network, and knew also that many nefarious characters as well as nobility incognito, could be found rubbing elbows at Scar and Potbelly’s less than reputable enterprise. It was far from uncommon for most of the spectators of the Death Matches to be masked, for such contests had been deemed vile and against the law.

  “Absolutely. In fact, I have three Brothers that were once participants.”

  James shook his head. “Your priests don’t exactly fit the norm as holy men go.”

  Laughing, Miko nodded. “You are not the first to make that observation, and probably will not be the last.”