Light in the Barren Lands: Travail of The Dark Mage Book One

by Pratt, Brian S.

  “Are you certain you can do this?” Glancing at his daughter, Jiron continued having some concern about James’ ability to do this safely. The memory of the inside-out fish continued to haunt him.

  “To be honest, the only answer I can give is maybe. I won’t know until after I’ve had time to try out the spells.” He paused a moment before adding, “You know, there is the very real possibility that I will never be able to answer with anything more encouraging than a maybe.”

  His friend remained silent for a while as he glanced again toward where his daughter lay in blissful repose. “I love Jira more than I ever thought I could care for anyone in my life.” Then he shifted his gaze to James. “Perhaps even more than her mother.”

  “And the thought of her becoming as that fish…” Pausing, he shuddered, then sighed. “But the thought of she and I being forevermore separated from Aleya is worse. If the best you can ever give is maybe, then maybe it will be. Just don’t let it be…a maybe.”

  “I promise you that we will not attempt the crossing until I am certain of success.”

  “Good.”

  The following morning, James went to the motel office and paid for another week. “If it’s all the same,” he told the manager, “we would rather not have the cleaning crew entering in our absence. My friend is somewhat protective of his things.”

  With the money for a whole week sitting before him, the manager gave James a quizzical look. “There isn’t a dead body rotting away in your room is there?”

  “What?” Taken aback by the question, James grew alarmed until he saw the manager grin. “No.”

  “Well, then. Your room shall be left alone until your return.” As he took the money, he added, “Or until the week is up.”

  “Thank you.”

  The car they’d stolen from the drunk in Reno sat in the back of the lot next to the dumpster. Thus far no one had paid it any attention. James considered buying a used one with the money won at the casinos, but knew that he would have to show ID, and that was something he did not have. He would have to drive most safely and give the police no reason to give him a second look.

  From the motel James headed east. Driving through town, he found one of the mega retailers and there they bought a three compartment tent, three sleeping bags, and a plethora of other paraphernalia needed for outdoor camping.

  Jiron marveled at the various items available. Even the tent raised an appreciative reaction, since the tents from his world were the most basic; made of thick cloth or canvas, and extremely heavy. He couldn’t believe that a tent in which ten people could sleep without lying atop one another could be easily carried under one arm. It weighed less than Jira!

  Before they left, Jiron caught sight of the knife display. These were not kitchen knives, but rather the heavy duty utility knives for outdoor use. “Want one?” James asked him but he declined. “I’ll stick with the ones I have,” he replied.

  The store also sold food and so they stocked up on easily prepared items and other necessities. As they were waiting in line at the cashier, James couldn’t help but peruse the magazines in the rack strategically displayed so as to prompt impulse buying. One was a woman’s type magazine and had the banner headline, “100 Best Recipes to Satisfy Your Chocolate Craving”. Then below the banner was a smaller blurb “Own your own cocoa plant.”

  Intrigued, James grabbed the magazine and thumbed through until he located the article.

  Own Your own Cocoa Plant

  How fun would it be to have your very own cocoa plant?

  To make cocoa from seeds you have grown yourself*?

  The Original Hawaiian Chocolate Factory

  of Hawaii can make such a dream reality.

  *Caution: cocoa made by novices may be slightly bitter

  It went on to describe how The Original Hawaiian Chocolate Factory shipped seedlings around the world. Excitement rose as he toyed with the possibility of buying a seedling or two and taking it back to the island. He could bring chocolate to Jiron’s world! Then his excitement crashed and burned when he reached the contact information and saw logos of the credit cards needed to place an order.

  He must have groaned in his dismay for the cashier paused in scanning his items. “Are you okay, sir?” she inquired.

  James sighed and gestured to the article. “I want something but don’t have a credit card.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  She resumed scanning his items. “You know, there are pre-paid credit cards.”

  “There are?”

  Nodding, she pointed to the display directly behind him. Turning, he saw many different credit cards with varying logos, all hanging from pegs. One of them had a Visa symbol.

  “If you buy one, you can take it over to Customer Service and put more on. Initially, you have to pay twenty-five which is added to the card when I activate it. But after that, you can put on as much as you want.”

  “How much?”

  She shrugged. “For that you would need to inquire at Customer Service. I have never needed to buy one.”

  Such a card would certainly reduce the wad of cash he was carrying. He took one from the display and added it to his items. After a moment’s thought, he made it two. Jiron gave him a quizzical look, but didn’t ask.

  After paying for their purchases, James had them wait a moment while he put more money on the cards at customer service. He put five thousand on one and two on another. Once that transaction was over, they left the store.

  “What was that about?” Jiron asked when they were back at the car.

  James showed him the card and then gave him a brief education in the theory behind credit cards. As soon as Jiron understood them to be similar in nature to the letters of account that some money lenders back home supplied, he was satisfied. He also explained about the cocoa plants and his desire to bring one with them when they returned home. Taking out the magazine, he showed the article to Jiron.

  Jiron stared at the pictures and shrugged. Unable to read it, it didn’t mean a whole lot to him.

  Spying a payphone nearby, James announced, “I’m going to have one delivered to our motel. If I do it now, it should be there by the time we return.”

  Jiron didn’t really care one way or another. This was simply another of the peculiarities he didn’t understand that his friend exhibited from time to time.

  With magazine in hand, James hurried over to the payphone and first called the motel for their mailing address. Once he had the address and the manager’s assurance that he would hold the package for him, James dialed the number for the Original Hawaiian Chocolate Factory.

  When the call was answered, James expressed his desire to buy one of their seedlings. The Chocolate Factory representative who took his order asked a few pertinent questions, and when James mentioned the fact that the plant may be doing some traveling after delivery, the man suggested buying seed pods instead.

  “It takes a bit more work than a seedling, but pods would hold up better,” the man explained.

  James thought that this was a fine idea and asked if instructions for the care and cultivation of the seeds could be sent as well. The man had readily acquiesced. So it was that a satisfied James returned to the car.

  “We’re getting six pods,” he explained. “From those, we should be able to get several viable seeds. The man said a tropical climate would be best for growing.”

  “Your island isn’t tropical.”

  Starting the ignition, James nodded. “I know.” Backing out of the parking spot, James then headed for the road. “But the area down around Meliana’s home is close. Maybe her father would know of a good island we could buy on which to grow them.”

  Jiron smiled. “Buying another island are we?”

  James chuckled. “Well, we’ll see.”

  Once out of the parking lot, he made for Interstate 15, and then after Las Vegas disappeared behind them, he began looking for an out-of-the-way place in which to do a lit
tle experimenting.

  “Hey, Robert.”

  In a casino’s backroom, the innards of a slot machine lay strewn across one of several worktables used by technicians who inspected and made repairs to the casino’s various games. This particular slot machine had stopped working the day before and technician Alex Phillips sat perplexed before it.

  “What is it, Alex?” Robert was the senior slot technician and had been employed by the casino for nearly eighteen years. Coming up behind Alex, he peered at the circuit board being examined.

  “I ain’t never seen anything like this,” began Alex, then pointed to a small section of circuits. “These are fried, practically fused.”

  “Must have been a power surge.”

  Alex shook his head. “I don’t think so. None of the breakers were tripped. If the power surge originated externally, the breakers would have blown.”

  Sliding the circuit board out from in front of Alex, he took a magnifying eyepiece from his pocket and bent over for a closer look. “It’s fried all right.”

  “But what would have caused it?”

  Robert examined the circuit for a few more seconds. “Any other circuits affected?”

  “Several,” came the reply. “Whatever caused this, seemed to have done so randomly. Most of the affected circuits aren’t even in line with each other.”

  Standing up again, Robert asked, “You think tampering?”

  “I can’t imagine anything else that could have caused such damage to these circuits without affecting the breakers or the rest of the machine.”

  “Have security check the video,” ordered Robert. Glancing to Alex, he added, “Let’s see if anyone was around when this happened.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  ________________________

  An out of the way ravine coming off the slopes of Mount Charleston proved to be perfect for James’ needs. After leaving I-15, he drove across the desert until all signs of man were gone, then continued until coming to the ravine. It ran fairly east to west, and being on the western side of the mountain would afford them an extra hour or so of daylight.

  Getting the tent set up was a breeze. Jiron may not have been familiar with the make-up of this particular tent, but he was familiar with putting tents together in general. There were three main areas: two for sleeping with a space between them, half the size. Jiron opted for the one in the middle claiming it was nearest the entrance and thus he would be able to respond quickly to anything out of the ordinary. Jira was excited to have her own room and quickly moved into it. James of course took the one remaining.

  The first order of business was to place crystals about the area to charge. Unlike the ones left behind to gather magic slowly over a week, these would be allowed to gather much faster. Out in the desert, it was unlikely anyone would notice if vegetation showed signs of withering due to the leeching affect of the crystals.

  Second was to practice utilizing Earth’s magic. In the casinos he had grown somewhat used to its difference, but he needed much more familiarity for the task ahead. He couldn’t afford even the slightest slip-up once the process to send them home began.

  James took the sack containing the remaining three-score crystals and placed them throughout the surrounding area, ensuring enough space between each in order to reduce the overlapping of areas was down to a minimum. Jiron put Jira to collecting wood while he readied dinner. He loved the camp equipment James had procured and hoped they would be able to take some of it home with them.

  Once the crystals were in place and set to a quick charge, James began accustoming himself to Earth-type magic with a little target practice. Using stones lining the bed of the ravine, he took shots at cacti in the distance.

  Earth’s magic made his aim erratic. If he meticulously concentrated on the shot, it went true. But each time he failed to concentrate hard enough, it went awry. Such an easy spell should have been child’s play for him, and it would have been were they home.

  Twenty minutes of target practice had indeed helped to improve his command of Earth’s magic. Moving on, he turned to other spells like exploding the ground beneath imaginary opponents and causing orbs to float about in the air. By the time that Jiron announced dinner was ready, he was drained; both physically and magically.

  “How’s it going?”

  Taking a seat on a log near the fire, he accepted a bowl of stew Jiron had thrown together. There wouldn’t be anything fancy as far as meals went over the next week; just simple camp fare.

  “Not bad.”

  Jira sat cross-legged on the ground nearby, her bowl of stew resting on the ground before her. She would alternate between taking a bite and flicking Kenny’s wand to make the dancing balls of ever changing light appear. Three stones hovered off the ground next to her as well.

  “I figure a little more practice after dinner, then by tomorrow, there should be enough crystals containing magic to start testing my teleportation spells.”

  “Let’s hope it works.”

  James nodded agreement, though inside, there was a seed of doubt that he would even be able to pull this off. Sighing, he took another bite of stew. Time would tell.

  Three men stood before a bank of monitors within the casino’s security office. Robert from the tech room was there along with Doug who was in charge of the casino’s security. The third man was Franklin Gossett with the Gaming Commission who just happened to be doing a routine inspection when word reached him of the possibility of a tampered slot machine.

  “There,” Robert said as Doug zoomed in on the machine. “That’s it.” The bottom left of the screen displayed the date and time in which the video had been taken. What they were seeing was of the day before.

  “Run it back,” suggested Franklin.

  Turning a knob, Doug had the video play backward. They watched for several minutes with Doug increasing the playback speed. People came and went from before the machine. Each time someone approached, Doug would slow it to normal. And each time, the person approached, inspected the machine, and left.

  “How long was it broken?” asked Doug.

  “It was taken from the floor last night,” replied Robert. “Couldn’t have been more than a day or two.”

  “Aren’t they supposed to be checked for serviceability daily?” questioned Franklin.

  “Supposedly,” agreed Robert, failing to elucidate further on whether such was, or was not, happening.

  Franklin glanced at him but didn’t comment further.

  It wasn’t until the feed from two days ago was reached before anyone lingered in front of the machine for any length of time. When they saw the man pull the handle, Robert said, “That has to be the guy.”

  “Why do you say that?” Doug asked.

  “The handle was jammed when it was brought from the floor.”

  “Okay then.” Franklin peered intently at the man on the screen. “Take it back to when he first approaches the machine.”

  Doug nodded then increased the speed until the man was no longer in front of the machine.

  “Now, play it at normal feed.”

  “Yes, sir,”

  As the video resumed normal forward play, the man appeared. He came to the machine, and before sitting upon the seat before it, glanced to the left and right. Then he sat and remained still for almost a full minute.

  “What’s he doing?” wondered Franklin. From the looks of it, all the subject was doing was sitting and gazing toward the machine. It was only after a few minutes of this odd ritual that he pulled the handle.

  Yet, before the handle had the chance to come back up to rest, the man had abruptly hopped off the stool. After glancing to and fro, he hurried away at a quick pace.

  “Wait!” exclaimed Robert. “Freeze the frame!”

  Doug paused the playback.

  “Can you zoom in closer?”

  “Of course,” stated Robert and zoomed in until the machine filled the screen.

  “Stop!” When Doug paused the zoom, Robert po
inted to just above the back of the machine. “Look.” He glanced to Doug and Franklin quizzically. “Smoke?”

  “It sure as shootin’ is,” replied Doug.

  “Follow him and find out where he went,” ordered Franklin.

  “I’m on it.”

  When the man walked past the area covered by that particular camera, Doug brought up the feed of its neighbor for that time. The man walked through four separate camera fields of vision before coming to a stop.

  “He’s glancing back toward the slot machine he just fried,” observed Doug.

  “Keep on him.”

  As the man started walking, Doug continued bringing up historical feed of neighboring cameras as they tracked his movement. They watched as he took a circuitous route across the casino floor until finally coming to stop before the Wheel of Fortune.

  “What’s he up to?”

  The man laid down a bill on the betting field and the Wheel started to spin. When the Wheel came to a sudden, and abrupt, halt, the three men watching the video feed gasped.

  “Play that back!” shouted Franklin.

  Doug turned a knob and the video began playing backward. When they came to where the man approached the Wheel of Fortune game, he stopped and let it play forward at normal speed. As soon as the Wheel began spinning, Franklin had him slow the video playback. Then just as before, the Wheel came to an abrupt halt.

  “I remember that,” stated Robert. “We had a call about a malfunctioning Wheel, two days ago. The operator claimed it had up and stopped in the middle of the game.” He turned his gaze from the screen and toward the representative of the Gaming Commission. “We checked it out and couldn’t find any anomalies.”

  They followed the man’s withdrawal from the Wheel of Fortune and his subsequent departure from the casino.