by Scott Baron
Charlie slid the chain over his head, dropping the ring against his chest just as a knock at the door made him spin, his hand instinctively coming up to cast a defensive spell.
No konus, he silently reminded himself with a chuckle.
“Yes?” he called out.
The door opened without waiting for further prompting and a stout, curly-haired woman with dark orange skin flowed into the chamber, her apron and underskirt flowing around her shins.
“Good, you’re finally awake,” she said, quickly surveying the room. “Yona ha.” The sheets and covers on the bed rustled, then slid back into place, the corners tucking neatly, leaving a perfectly made bed.
“Neat trick. ‘Yona ha,’ is it?”
“Yes,” she replied. “A basic cleaning spell. Makes beds, sets tables, folds laundry. But you are without a konus, so it won’t do you any good casting it, and besides, that’s not your job.”
“Oh, I know. I just try to learn as much as I can,” he replied. “I’m Charlie, by the way.”
“Oh, I know. We all know who you are. My name is Magda,” the orange woman replied. “I oversee Visla Maktan’s housekeeping.”
“Visla? So, the lord of the house is a powered man?”
“Visla Yoral Maktan is one of the most powerful vislas on the Council of Twenty, and he is the man who saved you from the arena on Gilea. You’ve found yourself in a position men would kill for. A new favorite of Visla Maktan. When he brought you here, he was most excited. You should be thankful.”
“Oh, I am, believe me,” Charlie covered. “It’s just all so new to me. This place––it’s just the last thing I remember was frantic combat, and an enormous red dragon. And then, nothing. And now, here I am, in this place.”
“Visla Maktan brought you straight home after the tournament,” Magda informed him. “And what is a ‘dragon'?”
“Sorry. Zomoki. I don’t know why that word doesn’t translate. But, do you know what happened to her?”
“I don’t know about that sort of thing. But what I do know is the master wanted you bathed, clothed, and fed while he was away on his business. The first two are done, now come with me and let’s see to the third.”
Charlie followed the woman from the room, wondering exactly what this new life would entail. After the previous places he’d lived, it certainly seemed to be an improvement thus far. If he was lucky, maybe he’d even find a sponsor of sorts in his new friend.
Chapter Seventy
“Charlie!” a familiar voice bellowed as he entered the kitchen.
He had to consciously hold back his gladiator-trained reflexes as the big blue man lunged forward and wrapped him in a bear hug.
“Tuktuk? What are you doing here?” he asked when the overjoyed Bantoon finally released him.
“Visla Maktan bought me over a year ago when Captain Tür happened to be passing through the system. It was blind luck, really, but the visla needed kitchen help and happened to hear me when I blurted out that I could cook. Good thing, too. Captain Tür would have whipped me for speaking publicly to someone like that. But Visla Maktan seemed amused by me and bought me off of Tür right on the spot.”
“That’s fantastic news,” Charlie said, looking his friend over. “And you look well.”
It had been more than two years, but Tuktuk seemed well cared for and very well fed. His species’ naturally loose skin was somewhat tightened on his larger frame, apparently fattened up from a substantial diet of rich foods. On top of that, he bore the look of a contented man. The chef’s clothing, Charlie thought, suited him well.
“Yes, and now I finally get to use my talents rather than toiling away, carrying cargo like a mere pack animal. Visla Maktan treats us all so well here.”
“It seems that way. But what happened to the way you speak?” Charlie asked. “I mean, no disrespect, but you’re actually literate and understandable now.”
The blue man laughed merrily.
“Oh, I told you when we first met, don’t you remember?”
“Vaguely?”
“Liar. That’s okay, though. It was a rough time for you, I know. But the thing was, the Tslavars had given us all such cheap translation spells, it was a miracle we could communicate at all. But Visla Maktan is a very powerful man. For him a proper translation spell was a simple thing. Everyone here has the best spells available, and it makes everything flow so much smoother.”
“So, everyone is articulate?”
“Illiteracy is offensive to him. And he’s a patron of the arts as well, so we are all expected to keep things aesthetically pleasing to the eye as well as the ear. It really is impressive, the resources he gives the staff.”
“I saw that Magda was outfitted with some interesting housekeeping spells.”
“Yeah, she’s great, isn’t she?” Tuktuk said.
Charlie thought he sensed a little more than friendly interest. He looked around and saw that Magda had walked out of the kitchen for a moment, leaving the two men alone.
“Yeah, she seems to be,” Charlie replied. “But weren’t you married back home?”
A brief shadow crossed Tuktuk’s face, then passed.
“You remember correctly. I even managed to have a message secreted to my wife not long after you were sold to Gramfir. But our lives were hard work, and we were never rich. She simply couldn’t raise the funds to buy my freedom,” he said. “But I hear she is happy now. Met a new man, and I really can’t blame her for it.”
“So, this is your life now? No hopes of freedom?”
“Honestly, this is better than freedom in many ways. My job is now doing what I love, and I am well taken care of, living in an amazing estate I could never afford earning even a substantial wage, working with all of this amazing food. It’s not freedom, per se, but it’s a life I can appreciate, and far better than any job I’ve ever held.”
Charlie tried to imagine being a slave once again. That life had been so tough, but as he looked around the pristine kitchen, he could see the appeal to his friend. Like everything he had seen so far, it appeared Visla Maktan spared no expense in any part of his home, be it servants’ quarters or the kitchen, all were well stocked and spotless.
A plate of some sort of savory biscuit caught his eye. They were still steaming, fresh from the oven.
“Ah, I see you eyeing my pastry. Well, they’re best when they’re hot. Why not have a few?”
Charlie’s stomach rumbled loudly in the affirmative before the man himself could speak. Tuktuk laughed as his friend plucked one from the pile and took a bite.
“Oh my God, this is wonderful,” Charlie said through his full mouth.
“I’m glad you like it. But you need something to drink. I just made a fresh batch of yonda cooler, which I think you’ll like. The yonda are grown right here on the grounds, and it’s something of a restorative as well as a rather refreshing drink.”
He crossed to a refrigeration unit that, like everything else, was powered by a series of spells, keeping each of the contents within preserved and cooled at precisely the right temperature. He poured a tall glass of a cloudy, violet-colored beverage and handed it to his feasting friend.
“Tuk, this is fantastic!”
“I thought you’d like it. This is going to be so much fun. Finally, I have a new person to test my recipes on. Magda likes them, but she says she has to think about her figure,” he said with a laugh. “Personally, I like a woman with a little more to hold on to.”
“Are you going to fatten me up, Tuk?”
“Not likely. Look at you. You’re all lean muscle these days. Not that you weren’t fit before, but the years have been kind to you.”
“Well, there was also a lot of intense training pretty much every day.”
“Yeah, that too,” Tuktuk chuckled. “But now you are here, and for our reunion day, let me feed my old friend. Sit, I’ll prepare you something more substantial to fill your stomach.”
Charlie ate well, and the two sat and talked, swapp
ing stories of their trials and adventures over the years since they’d last met. He may have been blue, and with eyes on stalks, no less, but Charlie still felt that Tuktuk was one of his dearest friends in this strange part of the universe. The man who helped get him through those horrible first days and weeks.
“We just heard! The Master is coming home!” a dark-eyed servant girl said, rushing into the kitchen. “He will be back by the end of the week at the latest.”
“Excellent! I’m sure you will like your new master, Charlie. He’s a good man,” Tuktuk said, rising to his feet to clean the workspace.
“I’m sorry, what did you just say?”
“I said he’s a good man.”
“No, the part before that. The master part.”
“What? I just said I’m sure you’ll like your new master.”
“But-but I’m free. I competed bravely and earned my freedom in the arena.”
His blue friend fixed him with a sympathetic look. “Oh, my friend, I’m so sorry, but you’re not.”
Charlie’s fingers reached up, brushing the band around his neck. He hadn’t even noticed it before, being so taken with the surroundings and so accustomed to the feel that its weight didn’t even register anymore. His fingers traced the metal. It was much thinner and lighter than his old one, but a great deal of power went into its creation, and traces of it now tickled his fingertips.
“No. No, this can’t be happening.”
He stepped to the nearby reflecting panel and said the simple words to enable the enchanted device. “Occulo.”
His reflection appeared, but as he would be seen by others, a difference in this galaxy that had taken him a little time to become accustomed to. The only place he would see himself reversed in a truly mirrored reflection was in calm waters and other naturally reflective surfaces he encountered in his travels. Mirrors, as he had known them on Earth, simply did not exist.
There it was, plain to see. A collar on his neck.
New. Bright. Golden.
And though it had the look of a decorative piece, with all of the inscribed runes and symbols, it was, he noted, somewhat more robust than his prior one.
So many runes, he marveled. But if he saw me at the arena… Given what the dragon and I did, I suppose it freaked a lot of people out. Overkill would be a natural response.
“Are you okay?” Tuktuk asked, resting a hand on his friend’s shoulder.
“Yeah,” Charlie replied, more than a little crestfallen. “I had just thought––Well, it doesn’t matter, I suppose,” he said, allowing himself a moment to really consider his new surroundings. “It’s not Earth, but compared to my last several homes, you’re right. This is a life of luxury.”
“Yes, it is. I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourself once you settle in.”
Charlie looked out the small door leading from the kitchen. The world was bright and warm, and no one was trying to kill him for a change. All things considered, it wasn’t a bad place to be. He had survived, somehow.
Crashing, fighting, all of it. And now he would live a good life on a beautiful estate, even if it wasn’t as a free man.
“I suppose it’s just like any other job,” he said, echoing Tuktuk’s sentiment. “And if this Visla Maktan is truly such a good guy and patron of arts, this might wind up being better than any gig I’d ever have on Earth anyway.”
Charlie took a deep breath, the last remnants of stress in his body slowly releasing and drifting away in the warm breeze. It wasn’t Earth, but the realization was finally setting in. This life might be even better than Earth.
After years of struggle, Charlie was home.
Epilogue
In the dark of night Charlie lay wrapped in dreams, his mind’s eye flying high among the clouds, soaring free. From altitude, he took in all of the visla’s expansive grounds. In the distance he saw a beautiful ship silently gliding through the skies, descending toward an open landing space to the side of one of the outer buildings. A few other ships sat there as well, but this was a work of art by comparison.
That must be his, he thought. The visla’s ship.
He strained to see more, but his dream was disrupted as an encroaching blackness pulled his sight from him, plunging him into the dark.
All was still and silent.
“Hello?” he said, his voice muffled by an oppressive weight. It was as if he was ensconced in a dense fog, blocking all light and sound.
Two enormous golden eyes flashed open, their blazing irises fixing on the tiny man before them. Charlie could feel the invisible heat radiating from the unseen beast that owned them.
He tried to run. Tried to scream. But neither his lungs nor legs would function.
Slowly the eyes moved closer, dropping down to his level for a clearer look.
“Hello, my little friend,” a woman’s voice said, her words penetrating his head like a firehose of thought. “You and I have much to discuss.”
But wait, there’s more!
Follow Charlie on his continuing adventures in the second book of the Dragon Mage series: Space Pirate Charlie
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Thank You
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Thank you!
~ Scott ~
Also by Scott Baron
Novels
Living the Good Death
The Clockwork Chimera Series
Daisy’s Run
Pushing Daisy
Daisy’s Gambit
Chasing Daisy
Daisy’s War
The Dragon Mage Series
Bad Luck Charlie
Space Pirate Charlie
Dragon King Charlie
Odd and Unusual Short Stories:
The Best Laid Plans of Mice: An Anthology
Snow White’s Walk of Shame
The Tin Foil Hat Club
Lawyers vs. Demons
The Queen of the Nutters
Lost & Found
About the Author
A native Californian, Scott Baron was born in Hollywood, which he claims may be the reason for his rather off-kilter sense of humor.
Before taking up residence in Venice Beach, Scott first spent a few years abroad in Florence, Italy before returning home to Los Angeles and settling into the film and television industry, where he has worked as an on-set medic for many years.
Aside from mending boo-boos and owies, and penning books and screenplays, Scott is also involved in indie film and theater scene both in the U.S. and abroad.
