Ways of Power 1: Power Rises (14 page)

Patrina’s annoyed look at being intruppted became one of understanding. "You shall have your farms again, I assure you. But please, allow us to help at least until your strength returns."

Before McRoy could protest again, Dorbin interrupted with his usual harsh wisdom. "Don't be a fool, lad. Forrget yourr prride! If you don't learrn to worrk togetherr you'll end up rright back wherre you starrted."

McRoy glared down at the small man, but then smiled and nodded. "You are right, my small friend," he turned to Patrina. "We would welcome your assistance. Thank you."

21

Rancoth and Dorbin remained for the next few days to help move the camp closer to the city. They also took Patrina up on her offer of a bath before they left; both men had become rather ripe on their journey thus far. On the morning of their departure, Rancoth stood staring at the crystal dragon fountain. He wondered if the underground river that would soon provide irrigation water for McRoy's farms was the same one he saw North of Tower City flowing under the cliff. He didn't notice McRoy’s approach until the giant interrupted his musing with that deep rumbling voice.

"Beautiful isn't it?" McRoy asked.

Rancoth nodded.

"It looks far better as a fountain then it did as an axe. Of course my hands miss its familiar weight. I made a much better warrior than I ever did a farmer," McRoy said.

Rancoth looked up at the hulking man, who was staring off into some memory only he could see. "That may be, but you do make a good leader for your people.  Perhaps one day your talents on the battlefield will be called for again."

McRoy smiled down at him. "Perhaps. But I doubt it." He clapped Rancoth on the back as he chuckled.

The weight of the blow was unintentional, but it sent Rancoth tumbling headfirst into the fountain with a splash.

McRoy scrambled to help the sopping wet young Magi out of the cold water. Holding him up by the back of his soaking robe, Rancoth hung in the air, feet dangling and dripping everywhere.

"I'm so sorry!" McRoy exclaimed setting Rancoth down on dry land.

As the water cascaded down his face, Rancoth burst into a fit of laughter before reaching down to throw a handful of the cold water up at his friend's face. After a moment, McRoy laughed too.

"We still have things to attend to if the two o' you arre done playing," Dorbin said, his voice impatient as he approached.

"Yes, I know. It's time we resumed our errand for Grecrum," Rancoth said, still laughing.

The giant man rested his hand on Rancoth's shoulder, gently this time. "I owe the two of you a debt I cannot possibly repay. You've given me my life back. You helped repair the damage done to my people. And most importantly of all, you've helped to ensure a safe future for my daughter. If you ever need anything, anything at all, please know that you can count on me."

Rancoth nodded as he and Dorbin hefted their travel packs and headed for the southern gate. Dorbin passed right through, but Rancoth stopped and turned for a last look. McRoy had been joined by Adri and Patrina, and all three waved. Rancoth smiled and waved back before rushing to catch up with Dorbin.

As they made their way through the city, the air of change was already noticeable. People greeted both men as they passed, and the occasional funny look that they were given was now directed at Rancoth and not Dorbin. This was understandable as the water still dripped from his hair and squished out his boots.

Occasionally they saw a Hulden and Magi standing together in happy conversation, old friends reunited now that tension and fear were gone. Rancoth couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and accomplishment. However, it also made him rethink his own past; pain, fear, ignorance, and misunderstanding could cause a great deal of grief. Rancoth would have to remember this lesson the next time he saw his father.

"Well that turned out alright, didn't it?" Rancoth said as they left the city.

"Aye that it did. You handled that situation well lad," Dorbin said hesitantly.

"If you think so, why the hesitation in your voice?" Rancoth asked, perplexed.

Dorbin shook his head. "You have to underrstand son, that I'm prroud o' you. But we werre lucky. This could have easily turrned out much differrently. You can't always solve everrything without bloodshed." Dorbin sounded almost desperate.

Rancoth was sure that his wizened old friend wanted him to realize that this was not how everything would always work out for him now that he was taking part in the larger world outside the comfortable marble tower he was raised in.

              "I do understand my old friend," Rancoth said smiling down at Dorbin. "And, thank you for your help, I have a feeling it would not have turned out as well if not for you."

              Dorbin simply nodded, and offered up a quiet grunt.

              As they headed south, Rancoth brought up something else that had been on his mind. Do you remember when we took Patrina to meet with McRoy?" he asked.

              "What about it?"

              "You were going to explain something about McRoy laughing as we were all sitting in his tent. It didn't seem like something to laugh about; I don’t know it was weird."

"Oh that, I was going to tell you that he was laughing cause he was nerrvous. That's all," Dorbin said with wink.

              Rancoth nodded, "I suppose that makes sense. I sure didn't see what was so funny as we were about to have such a serious conversation."

They continued on in silence, their final destination lay only a mile or so away. They decided to stick to the dirt road that led from the city, which would eventually pass Rancoth's old home.

              Rancoth's heart began to race as they approached the path leading from the road and off to the right up a green tree-covered hill. They were almost there. It was real, they were returning to his childhood home at last.

Rancoth stopped at the base of the path, not sure if he was ready to take the next step. Up until this point, it had all been a journey filled with unexpected adventure, with no real end in sight. Now the inevitable was upon them. Perhaps that is why he had felt so compelled to help McRoy and Patrina, because as long as he was in the midst of someone else's troubles, he could postpone facing his own sordid past.

              He was glad that Dorbin stood patiently by his side. He knew that Dorbin wouldn't rush him. Rancoth stared at his feet on the edge of the road not quite touching the path. They had arrived; there was plenty of time now to take it slow to prepare for the real challenge that lay ahead.

              After a few moments of quiet contemplation, Rancoth took a deep breath. He looked up from his feet at Dorbin.

              "It's all rright lad, I'll be with you everry step o' the way. And therre's no need to rrush. We can camp herre and starrt up tomorrrow," Dorbin said in as calm a manner as his gruff voice would allow.

              Rancoth shook his head. "No we've wasted enough time, let's go. And Dorbin, you should know that I had wanted to make the journey alone. Grecrum in his infinite wisdom insisted that I bring someone. I'm thankful that you agreed to come."

Dorbin grunted as the two of them started up the path.

22

              Rancoth kicked every stone on the path as they climbed the hill, sending them to crash through the grass, and trees. He was wearing his light blue robe, the one he had on at the start of their journey. As they approached the top of the hill, the trees grew closer and closer together, forming a dense forest. The once clear path, still easily visible next to the road, had become overgrown with weeds and grass. Overhanging from the trees above, branches reached out with twiggy fingers to pluck at their clothing and block their view.

Years ago, the trees above the path had been pruned and manicured to form a beautiful emerald canopy leading to Adroman and Carcella's home. With time, many changes had occurred.

              Rancoth abruptly stopped after going around a bend.

              "What's the matterr?" Dorbin whispered.

              "Nothing, really…" Rancoth said his voice trailed off as he stood frozen in place. "I can see it, that's all."

              Dorbin stepped aside so he could see around him to the gray stone home through the trees. He took a deep breath and looked up at Rancoth. "Would you like me to go firrst?" he asked.

Rancoth looked down at Dorbin and smiled at the concern in his voice. "No, I'll be fine, it just appeared so suddenly. Let's go." Rancoth started back down the path, with Dorbin quick on his heels.

              They stepped out of the forest and into the clearing around the stone home. It was large enough to fit the status of Rancoth's parents.  The sharp pointed roof was covered in dark gray clay singles, which contrasted nicely with the light gray stones of the rest of the home.

              The front door was made from a red wood, and appeared surprisingly sturdy and untouched by time. In fact, the only part of the house that seemed weathered was a tattered maroon curtain. It was billowing in the wind outside an open window on the second floor.

              Below the open window was a small pond, overgrown with algae and cattails. Rancoth approached the pond with a faraway look.

             
Rancoth remembered that hot summer day for the first time in years. It was the last truly happey memory he had of his father, he was seven and he and his dad had just taken a walk through the woods. Adroman picked him up and set him on his broad shoulders as they approached their home.

              When they reached the pond Rancoth wanted to see the tadpoels. After Adroman set him down Rancoth jumped in the pond to look for them, but he was disappointed to see that the tadpoles had changed, they had started to grow legs, and their tails were shrinking. Adroman used the tadpoles in the pond to explain the differences between people.

              "You see son, you know that there are other people like us, like Magi that is, that can use magic, right?" Adroman began to explain.

              "Yeah, the Elven people right?" Rancoth asked excited about what he might learn. He loved to learn things, and he loved the way his dad explained the world.

              Adroman chuckled "Close, their called Elfkin," he corrected. "Anyway, they are special like us, because they can use magic; it's a different kind of magic, but magic none the less."

              "Okay…"

              "You also know that there are people who can't use magic, right?" Adroman asked.

              Rancoth nodded but didn't answer not wanting to get the names wrong like he had with the Elfkin.

              Adroman smiled, and ruffled his wet hair. "Hulden's and Dwalish are different, they can't use magic, their sort of--ordinary. Does that make sense?"

              "Yep"

              "Well, there are some creatures that are like us, their special. Tadpoles, and caterpillars have their own special kind of magic, and they can change into frogs, and butterflies. However most creatures, are ordinary and don't have any magic."

              "Really?!?" Rancoth exclaimed. "That's soooooo neat!" Rancoth dove back under the water--

              "Rran arre you alrright?" Dorbin asked.

              "I'm fine, Dorbin. I was just lost in thought. I was remembering a time when my father and I shared a warm sunny day together--that's all." Rancoth smiled to ease his friend's troubled look.

              "Lost? Don't you mean vanished?" Dorbin grumbled. He turned to the house. "Let's go."

The two men stepped up on the front porch together and looked at one another. Rancoth opened the door with a soft creak and stepped over the threshold.

23

"Wait a minute!" Dorbin exclaimed.

Rancoth turned to see the little man still standing on the porch. Dorbin took a step forward, but his leg appeared to freeze in midair as he tried to step into the house. Dorbin's lip curled under his white mustache and the bridge of his bulbous nose crinkled in frustration.

              "What's the matter?" Rancoth asked.

              "I can't get in!" Dorbin growled back. The short man began to throw his shoulder into the invisible barrier.  Rancoth couldn’t help but grin. Obviously his old mentor had forgotten about the barrier that his parents had placed on the house. Dorbin took a few paces back and charged the opening.

              Just as Dorbin was about to plow into the invisible barrier, Rancoth broke the spell. "Dorbin, please come in." It was simple but effective. Dorbin ran right through the open door, and landed with a crash in the middle of the living room floor.

              Rancoth broke into a hearty laugh as he watched Dorbin skid across the dusty stone floor. He slid right under a large light blue rug, before coming to a halt, headfirst into a tan leather couch. Dorbin’s muffled curses added to Rancoth's mirth as he watched the little man crawl gopher-like under the rug in search of the edge.

              "SAWW AUU YOUU GGGGEJ WAAA, THE HELL ARRE YOU LAUGHING AT!" Dorbin demanded, his grumblings becoming clear as his head poked back into the fresh air. He struggled to his feet, and threw the rug aside. His white hair was sticking up at funny angles over his ears, which added to Rancoth's laughter.

              Dorbin growled as he balled his fists. "Why didn't you rremind me about the barrrierr?" he demanded scornfully.

              After a few moments Rancoth regained his breath and stopped laughing. "Now we're even for you treating me like your own personal pack mule back in the tall grass."

              Dorbin's incredulous look sent Rancoth back into a fit of chuckles. "I thought that you got even by thrrowing me off at the top o' the hill." Dorbin said.

              "Yes well, that was for the physical discomfort, this was for the deception," Rancoth said. He winked as he turned to shut the front door. "Thanks by the way--I think I needed that."

              Dorbin glared at him and shook his head. Rancoth braced his hands on either side of the front door and looked at his feet. He wasn't sure if he was really ready to start rummaging through this house.

"It's all rright but now we'rre even!"

              "Agreed." Not for the first time, Rancoth was glad that Dorbin was with him. He took a deep breath as he began to look around the room.

              "So," Dorbin said following Rancoth's glance, "do we know what this necklace looks like? And wherre do we starrt looking?"

Rancoth shrugged.

              The room was large and square. The polished stone floor was dusty, except for the wide streak swept clean by Dorbin sliding through the front door. The walls were all made of a white painted wood. The back had a large window offering a view of the woods behind the house. It had light blue drapes matching the rug, but they were drawn and let some light in.

Towards the back of the left wall next to the window was a closed door. Immediately next to it stood an antique chest with a large hand drawn map above it. The map marked the Light Magi territory in painstaking detail. Rancoth couldn't help but wonder if this was where his fascination with maps had been born. He vaguely remembered staring at this map for long periods of time when he was a child.

On the right wall there hung three portraits. Rancoth studied these in great detail. The left most painting was of his father, young and strong; the oil-based paint offered a faint sheen, making his father's bald head appear almost lifelike. The one in the middle was of Rancoth as a boy, perhaps five or six years old. He smiled as he remembered the artist's frustration at his inability to sit still for more than a few minutes at a time. The final painting was of his mother. Rancoth stared at this one for a long time, losing himself in his mother's brilliant purple eyes, and light silver hair.

While Rancoth stared at the images of his family, Dorbin moved about the room and finally stood in front of a mortared stone fireplace. On the mantle were several small trinkets and two small wooden boxes. Rancoth appreciated that Dorbin was allowing him some time to his thoughts.

"She was beautiful."

"Hmm?" Dorbin looked over his shoulder at him.

"My mother," Rancoth said, tearing his eyes away from the image. "She was quite beautiful."

Dorbin merely nodded, and turned his gaze out the window, his arms crossed in front of his chest. "You can't brring herr back Rran. Not rreally. Even Karrakas would only be able to summon herr sperrit."

"I know, we've had that conversation, and I wouldn't know what to say even if Karakas did summon her. I just wish things had been different. I wish…" Rancoth trailed off, unable to put into words his shame and remorse for what happened fifteen years ago.

Dorbin nodded. "We all wish that we could change the past. But we can't my young frriend, we just can't." Dorbin then turned and approached him. Reaching up, he placed a hand on Rancoth’s chest. "But what you can do is keep on living. I didn't know yourr motherr, but I know that's what she would want."

Rancoth placed his hand over Dorbin’s and smiled as he felt the tears building up behind his pale green glowing eyes. "You're probably right, and she certainly wouldn't want me to keep dillydallying when there is work to be done. I can't promise not to get caught up in the moment, but we might as well start looking." Rancoth patted Dorbin's hand, and moved off towards the chest under the map. "The necklace could be anywhere, and Grecrum said we would know it when we saw it. So I guess we should look everywhere. We're bound to find it eventually, whatever it might look like."

Dorbin grumbled and walked back to the fireplace. Rancoth watched out of the corner of his eye as Dorbin hopped up to grab one of the small wooden boxes that were on the mantle.

He tried to open the lid to no avail; he then reached into his boot and pulled out a small knife. Rancoth was happy to know that Dorbin had taken to hiding it there ever since they were captured by McRoy's Huldens. Dorbin used the blade to pry open the lid. "Bahh," he said in disgust. "Who locks an empty box?" He tossed the box aside and grabbed the next one. He snatched something inside it and pocketed it before he walked over to Rancoth.

Despite keeping one eye on Dorbin, Rancoth had gone through the most of the chest and was now rummaging through the bottom drawers.

"Find anything?" Dorbin asked.

Rancoth stood. "Nothing but some clothes and papers. You?"

"Nahh, couple o' keys, might come in handy."

"Well, let's try the kitchen next. If I remember correctly, there are some stairs leading down to a cellar in there as well." Rancoth headed to the dining area. He stopped short when he noticed Dorbin blanch. "Whats wrong?"

Dorbin waved him off, "Nothing, don't worrry about it."

"If you say so," Rancoth said as he turned and continued towards the dining room. If he didn't know any better though, he would have sworn that Dorbin actually looked frightened.

The dining room had two windows and was better lit then the main room. One looked out over the front yard, the other to the right side of the house. Both had open cream-colored curtains. Six matching chairs stood around the black wooden table, and much like the rest of the furniture, everything was covered in a thick layer of dust.

At the back of the room there stood two matching china cabinets. They had several drawers, glass display doors, and a mirrored back.

              "You take this one," Rancoth said, indicating the cabinet filled with the plain white dishes. "I'll go through this one." He moved towards the cabinet filled with beautifully ornate gold leaf china that his parents had reserved for special occasions.

              "Rright, sounds good to me," Dorbin said.

              They searched through the drawers, but to no avail. Obviously Carcella had not hidden the necklace among the knives, forks, and spoons.

              "Anything?" Rancoth asked doubtfully.

              "Nahh."

              "To the kitchen then."

              "Rright." Dorbin followed Rancoth through the door-less entry to the kitchen area.

In here there were many drawers and cupboards to search.

Rancoth started going through the cupboards while Dorbin went through the cabinets and drawers. Little of use was found, mostly just pots, pans, and various cooking utensils. From one of the middle cabinets Rancoth pulled out a glass oil lamp that appeared to still have a good cotton wick and set it on the stone countertop.

"Well, that was productive," Rancoth said with a hint of sarcasm. "Now if we can find a way to light this lamp we can head down to the cellar."

Dorbin let out a soft groan and headed towards one of the drawers he had rummaged through. Rancoth looked at him, perplexed by his sudden change of mood.

"Herre," Dorbin said, pulling out a small mechanical flint striker. "I ahh, that is to say, umm--would you mind if I didn't help you searrch the cellarr?" His face showed frustration and embarrassment.

"Sure I guess," Rancoth said, taking the striker from Dorbin's hand. "What's wrong?" He was very concerned; he had never known the durable old man to appear nervous about anything before.

"I just don't like to go underr grround," Dorbin said, refusing to look Rancoth in the eye.

When he saw how serious his former mentor was, Rancoth stifled a slight giggle. "But I thought all Dwalish men were natural miners--and you didn't seem to have any problems when we were being held captive in that hollowed-out hill of McRoy's."

"Yes, well, that wasn't exactly voluntarry now was it?" Dorbin growled. "I was verry uncomforrtable, but we had biggerr fish to frry didn't we?" he said, glaring at Rancoth.

"Okay, okay I'm sorry. Forget I asked. I'll go down alone."

Dorbin's face relaxed slightly. He nodded once, turned and marched out of the kitchen. He sat down at the first chair he came to in the dining room, his back towards the young Magi.

Rancoth stood and stared at Dorbin for a minute, wondering what could possibly be wrong with his friend. He shook his head and removed the tall globular chimney off the burner of the lamp, exposing the charred cotton wick.

It felt dry to the touch so he turned the small gear at the lamp's collar to lower the wick down into the reservoir of amber oil. He let it sit for a moment, and squeezed the two thin metal wires together that made up the handle of the striker, to ensure that it would give off a good strong spark. It did. After a few seconds, Rancoth turned the gear to raise the wick back up. Satisfied with its saturation, he positioned the round head of the striker over it and squeezed. Once, twice, and poof! The wick was lit. He put the chimney back on the burner and locked it in place.

              Rancoth then walked over to the stairwell cut into the floor at the back of the kitchen behind the fireplace oven. He took one last look at Dorbin and headed down with a shrug.