Brian Pratt - Fires of prophesy

“You okay?” Jiron asks.

“Better,” he assures him, his speech only slightly affected.

“What happened to you?” Jiron asks, dismounting and coming over to him.

“Not really sure,” he replies. “I remember you leaving and then things get kind of fuzzy after that. I remember being carried over your shoulder through town, or at least parts of it. But nothing really clear until a short time ago when I came to on the horse.”

Jiron relates to James the events from when he returned to the camp and found him being loaded onto the wagon until now. “They must’ve done something to you,” he states.

“I agree,” he says. “Probably a drug of some kind.”

“Think so?” Jiron asks.

“It would make sense,” he replies. “A mage who’s drugged wouldn’t be able to focus clearly and do magic. Actually, it was quite effective.” Holding his head, he looks to Jiron.

“I would say so,” he agrees. “Can you do magic now?”

James concentrates, or tries to anyway and then shakes his head. “Not even if my life depended on it,” he tells him. “Just have to wait until the effects wear off.”

“Think they will?” Jiron asks.

“Don’t know why they wouldn’t,” he says and then suddenly begins to panic as he grabs his shirt. “The medallion!” he cries out. “They took the medallion!”

Jiron reaches into the pouch hanging on his belt and removes the medallion, handing it back to James. “I grabbed it while I was getting you out of there,” he tells him.

Sighing with relief, he takes it and places it once more around his neck. “Thank you,” he says gratefully to Jiron.

“Thought you might want it when I saw it lying there,” he says, grinning. “But we need to get going, if you think you can ride.” He holds up the rope used to secure him to the saddle and asks, “Should I tie you to the saddle or can you make it on your own?”

“I think I’ll be okay for now,” James assures him. As he tries to get back in the saddle, he has a little difficulty with his coordination and balance. With a little help from Jiron he makes it up onto the horse. Once in the saddle, he’s able to maintain his balance well enough despite continual spells of dizziness. With an eye on James, Jiron mounts up and they continue on into the desert.

The next morning when James wakes up, all effects of the drug have worn off. His head is clear and he once again is able to maintain his balance. While they prepare to ride, James realizes that his belt and slugs are gone.

“What’s wrong?” Jiron asks him.

“My belt with the slugs is missing,” he explains. “They must have taken it when they captured me.”

Jiron takes the pouch off his belt and tosses it over to him, “Look in there.” When James catches it and opens it up he continues, “I think all your stuff is in there. I quickly scraped everything off the table where they had placed your things.”

James pulls out his belt and finds only five slugs remaining. He puts it back on and then looks through the pouch again. He pulls out a vial containing a clear liquid. Holding it up, he takes a close look at it as he says, “This might be the drug they used.” He hands it over to Jiron who examines it.

“Didn’t realize I had taken it,” he tells him as he hands it back.

“It may come in useful,” James says as he places it back in his pouch. Yes, it may just come in useful.

Before they mount, James pulls out his mirror and again finds Miko in the dark, picking away at the stone wall. “At least he’s still alive,” he says to Jiron.

“That’s something, for sure,” he replies.

James takes out the piece of cloth and casts his directional spell. It moves to indicate Miko lies off to the southwest, a little more west than south. “He’s that way,” he says to Jiron, pointing to the southwest before putting the cloth away.

Jiron sits for a second on his horse, contemplating how to say this, “You know, the noose is tightening. By now, soldiers are going to be swarming this entire area looking for us. And it’s not just soldiers in the hunt, but mages too.”

“What are you saying?” he asks him. “That we should give up? Leave him to his fate?” Shaking his head, he says, “No, I could never do that. If you feel you can’t continue, I’ll understand, but I need to try, or die doing it.”

“It may well be impossible to reach him,” he continues. “It may not be possible for us to even escape the Empire.”

“Maybe not,” agrees James, “but I’ve got to try.”

“Don’t worry about me abandoning you here,” Jiron assures him, “I won’t. I just wanted you to understand that things are getting more complicated.”

“I know,” he says. “I understand, we just need to be more alert and careful.”

Jiron turns his horse to the southwest and asks, “Ready to go?”

Nodding, he says, “Yes.”

As they ride, Jiron gets a notion and asks James, “Can your mirror locate enemies in the area? If we had that information, maybe we could avoid them and make better time.”

“Possibly,” he replies as he digs out his mirror. Handing his reins to Jiron, he concentrates as he stares into the mirror. The image blurs and then he sees a bird’s eye view of them riding along. Expanding the view, he widens the scope to be able to see more of the surrounding desert than just themselves.

He’s able to scroll the image for some distance in any direction. The further he scrolls the image away from their position, the greater the amount of magic needed to maintain the spell. He’s also always able to come back and center the view on them with just a thought. “Yeah,” he tells him, “I think I can manage that.”

“Good,” says Jiron. “Anyone in the vicinity?”

James scrolls the image and then shakes his head, saying, “No, there doesn’t appear to be anyone ahead. Off to the north is a sizeable force but they’re not coming our way.”

“How far are we away from the coast?” he asks.

James tries scrolling the image, but fails to pick up the coast before the power drain becomes too severe. “I don’t know,” he replies. “I’m not able to see that far.”

“Oh well, at least we know we’re okay for awhile,” he says, relieved. “Just check it often so we’ll know when to detour.”

“Alright,” agrees James. He checks the area one last time and when he finds no one ahead, replaces the mirror back into his shaving kit.

They ride for several hours, James checking periodically for hostiles with his mirror. The second time he checked, he found a dozen riders coming their way and they had to swing to the south to avoid detection. Continuing to detour around pockets of hostiles, they wind their way closer to the coast.

When night begins to fall, they stop for a short meal. All they have with them is what the riders had with them when Jiron appropriated their horses, which isn’t much. “Think we should continue through the night?” Jiron asks him.

“I think the horses will be okay,” he replies. “Besides, we’re less likely to be discovered in the dark of night.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he tells him as he finishes his meal and mounts. James mounts as well and they continue their way toward the ocean.

Once night has fallen, the mirror becomes useless as everything is black. Now they have to depend on their senses to detect anyone approaching. A half moon rises later in the evening, giving them some light to see by. Sometime around midnight, they cross the main road going north and south. A short time after that, they begin to see the moon being reflected off of a body of water in the distance. The smell of salt in the air tells them they’ve reached the ocean’s shore.