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Brian S. Pratt

Trail of the Gods

Chapter One

Easy, not too much now.

He stares across the small room to the focal point of his attention. Slowly, only a minuscule amount at a time, he lets the magic flow. As the magic reaches the object, it activates the latent spells embedded within. He begins feeling a subtle drawing of power as the object absorbs magic from him, and his excitement starts to mount.

A smile begins to break out on his face, he can feel how it draws the magic from its surroundings as well as himself, into itself. A subtle red glow grows within its center as it gradually holds more and more magic.

Bang!

The crystal explodes sending shards all over the room. James holds up his arms in an attempt to protect his face but several of the flying shards still find their mark in his cheek. Once the danger has passed, he lowers his arms which now have many small dots welling blood from where the shards have struck.

“Damn!” he curses as he looks back at what remains of the crystal. The floor around the small table upon which it had sat is strewn with a thin layer of shattered crystal from earlier experiments.

Walking back over to the table, he picks up a large shard, the shard he first acquired in the swamp. The shard which had given him the idea that they may in some way be able to absorb and store magical energy. How’d they do it? Shaking his head, he brings the shard over to his workbench and settles down on the stool. Rolling the shard between his fingers absentmindedly, he thinks about what happened.

Every time, they explode! Why? Can they only hold so much power before they blow? If so, then how much?

A knock at the door brings him out of his reverie. “Yes?” he calls out.

Ezra’s voice can be heard from the other side, “Lunch is ready, sir.” Her grasp of the language has improved, especially since she is now completely immersed in it. She still has an accent and he hopes she never grows out of it, he enjoys listening to the way she speaks.

“Be right there,” he hollers back.

Still, he wishes she would stop calling him sir. When he first came to live at Hern’s old place, he asked Roland and Ezra to come work for him to help take care of the place. He figured he would be gone most of the time or just not have the time or inclination to do it himself. Also, it seemed like a nice thing to do. They agreed and from that point on, she had called him sir.

He spoke to Roland about it, but Roland just shrugged and told him that it was just her way. Roland has no problem calling him James, and to little Arkie, he’s Uncle James.

Before leaving his workshop, he picks the shards out of his arm and face. Sighing, he gets up and walks out of his workshop. It’s set a ways from the main house since he doesn’t want to put anyone but himself in jeopardy with his experiments.

Off to the side, he sees where the workmen are busy with the construction of another house. That one will be the one he’ll live in and where his guests will stay. Hern’s old house will be Roland and his family’s, as long as they’re here. Several other buildings are sprouting up as well; a stable that will be large enough to hold over a dozen horses and another barn seeing as how Hern’s old one must have been built a century before and is in poor repair.

It had taken him the better part of a week to recover from the fight at the pass. During his recovery, he arranged to take possession of Hern’s old place. He mentioned to Corbin how he would like to have a place around Trendle in which to live. The next day, the mayor showed up personally to give him the deed to Hern’s place.

The mayor had refused payment, saying how it’s ample reward for what he did for them. At first he was highly flattered that the mayor had troubled himself to come all the way out here to give it to him personally. That is until he realized it had been just an excuse to get away from his wife and spend time with his old drinking buddies.

In the course of one conversation or another since acquiring it, he referred to Hern’s old place as ‘The Ranch’ and the name stuck.

Coming through the back door into the kitchen, he sees the others have already taken their seats at the table. Illan and the rest of Miller’s old band are there as well. For some reason, they’ve attached themselves to James, sort of become his bodyguards. His own private secret service as he’s begun to think of them. All that is but Hinney. Ever since his friend Keril died back at the pass, he’s been melancholy. One day, he mentioned having family in a little town in the northern part of Madoc and left the following day to spend some time with them.

“James!” Tersa cries out when she sees the blood welling on his face and arms. Getting up from the table, she takes a towel off the counter and dips it in a bucket of water. Coming over to him, she quickly dabs the blood off, as well as picking out several more pieces of crystal out of his cheek.

“Another mishap?” Jiron asks from where he sits at the table.

“Yeah,” he replies. Taking the towel from Tersa, he says, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she replies as she moves back to take her seat.

Moving around the table, he comes to his seat at the head. No one has yet begun to eat, Ezra won’t allow it. He’s the master of the house and no one better begin until either he’s there, or they know he’s not coming. Woe to the man who crosses her. Some around the table had learned the hard way the first couple of days they were together. After eating scraps outside after the meal was over for a day, they soon did as she said.

Since taking over the household, she’s changed from the sweet nice woman they had traveled with to a stricter disciplinarian. James doesn’t care. As long as she maintains order, he’ll back her. Besides, she’s not so strict with the ‘master of the house’.

Once he’s seated, they wait for him to help himself first. Another of Ezra’s rules, since he’s providing, he better be the first one to eat. Taking a bowl of tubers, potatoes really, he places two on his plate. As soon as the first one hits, everyone else begins grabbing the nearest source of food and filling their plates.

“I just can’t seem to make it work,” he announces to all.

“We know it can,” Miko says from James’ left. “That large shard we saw over the pool did, so I’m sure you’ll be able to figure it out.” James had thought that once the Fire was no longer in his possession that he might revert back to his former self. But that wasn’t the case. It seems the changes wrought while the Fire had been in his possession are going to be permanent, which saddens him. No one should ever be robbed of his youth like that.

His skill at arms has remained as well, though nothing like it had been while the Fire had taken control. He practices with Illan and the rest, and they say he’s one of the best swordsmen they’ve ever crossed blades with.

It wasn’t long after he recovered that the Fire had gone into hiding. He purchased a small iron chest and had Miko place the Fire within. Now, only James knows exactly where it’s hidden. He snuck out one night with the chest and buried it.

After swallowing a piece of the tuber, he asks Jiron, “How soon will Delia be back? I used the last of the crystals.” Delia, with the funds the ten gems Jiron acquired back in the underground complex, had bought a couple wagons and begun the life of a trader.

Having had a taste of it during their sojourn through the Empire, she decided that’s what she wants to do now that they’re back. Unable to gainsay her, he handed over the gems. The pit fighters had all agreed to hire on with her as caravan guards, once Jiron had finished talking with them about it.

“Should be any day,” he replies. “She had to go all the way to Cardri to get your money from Thelonius.”

“I know,” he says. He gave her a letter from Alexander, the money lender here in Trendle, for his brother asking him to relinquish James’ money. Only way he could’ve done it without the letter was to go all the way there himself. And Delia was more than happy to do it, for a small fee of course.