Gildenfell was considerably smaller than Drey’s Glenn, and it had a much more relaxed air about it than had the bustling market town. The seemingly haphazard scattering of drab buildings they passed didn’t show nearly the variety of the previous village.
As they walked along the packed dirt road that served as the main thoroughfare, they were met with curious stares from townsfolk along the way. Some gave them greetings, which the escorts and the Loremaster returned courteously. The children they passed were particularly fascinated by Calador. A few mustered the courage to greet the huge Dokal warrior, who answered their greeting with a nod.
Eventually, they came to a small wooden building that apparently served as a combination of roadside inn and tavern. A weatherworn sign swung over the door, creaking in the slight breeze, but Jason couldn’t read the writing on it. He looked around as they went inside. The six or seven patrons that were present glanced up, and then did a double take as they saw the warriors. A few appeared to know who Reyga was as well, for they leaned over to their companions and began exchanging muffled whispers as they eyed the party.
The inn itself was rather nondescript. They were standing in a large central room with ten or so small tables scattered about. The wood floor had been worn smooth, with dirt ground into the grain that no amount of cleaning would ever remove. A rough wooden bar stood to one side, with a few aging barstools in front of it, and in the back of the room a staircase led up to the shadows of the second floor.
A balding, pot-bellied man Jason assumed was the innkeeper came out from behind the bar, wiping his hands on his apron. He clearly knew who Reyga was because he stopped in front of the Loremaster and bowed clumsily as he said in a rough voice, “Welcome to Carilian’s Roost. I am Kellar, the owner. It is an honor to have you in my establishment, Loremaster Reyga. It is indeed. What can I get for you and your party?” He was a rough looking man, and it was obvious that had he been addressing anyone other than a Loremaster, the courtesy would not have been as evident.
Reyga nodded a greeting to the innkeeper and said, “Water and whatever your special of the day is will do nicely, thank you.”
As Kellar bowed again and went to retrieve their food, the Loremaster surveyed the room until he found what he had been looking for.
“Ah, good,” he said. “I was hoping he would be here. He usually spends most of his time here these days.”
Jason followed Reyga’s gaze, and saw, almost lost in the shadows at the back of the room, a figure sitting with his back to them. Jason hadn’t noticed him when they’d entered the room. His clothing appeared to be the same drab brown of the woodwork in the tavern.
“Who is he?”
“Remember me telling you yesterday that one of the other people who came to Teleria through a chaotic rift lived in this village?” As Jason nodded, Reyga said, “That is he. His name is Brusha. Come, and I will introduce you.”
While the escort took seats at one of the tables, Jason followed Reyga over to the lone figure. When they drew close, Reyga said, “Greetings, Brusha.”
Without turning, the man replied in a voice ragged with age, “Reyga? Is that you? It is good to hear your voice. Please, sit with me a while.”
Jason thought the man’s voice sounded familiar, but couldn’t decide whether he had actually heard it somewhere, or if it was just a voice from a dream.
“I would enjoy that,” Reyga said, “but it will have to be another time. I have brought someone I would like you to meet. He is a young Far Planer by the name of Jason Bennett.”
At the sound of Jason’s name, the man stiffened, and his drink, which he’d been raising to his lips, fell from his hand, spilling across the table. He struggled to turn around in his seat, his voice quavering. “Bennett? Jason Bennett? Can it be? Jason, is it really you?”
As the man turned toward them, Jason felt the blood drain from his face, and his ears began to roar. He thought he might pass out again. This couldn’t be! It was impossible! The frail man who now faced him had to be in his nineties, perhaps even older. But there was no denying what his senses were telling him. As their eyes met, he knew it was true. He knew this man. He had seen those eyes every day of his life, since the day he had been born. Even though he felt like he couldn’t breathe, he forced one word out from between his numb lips…
“Dad?”
Reunion
Time stood still for Jason. He wasn’t even sure if he was breathing. From the edge of his vision, he could see Reyga staring at him in confusion. The three warriors watched him with expressions ranging from intrigued curiosity to wary suspicion. All of this was a footnote in the back of his mind as he tried to comprehend the fact that his father, now an old man, was standing before him in a world that wasn’t their own.
For his part, his father seemed like he couldn’t decide whether Jason was real or a hallucination. After blinking his aged eyes several times, he hesitantly reached out a trembling hand. As his fingers touched Jason’s sleeve, the elderly Bennett drew a ragged breath that collapsed into a sob, and he drew his son into his feeble embrace.
“Jason, it is you,” his father managed through his tears. “Oh, Jason, I never thought to see you again.”
“Dad? What are you doing here? How did you get here?” But even as he asked, a part of him realized that he wasn’t alone in this world any more. Somehow, his father had found him. His arms slowly went around this frail, old man that his father had become, and he held to him tightly. In his father’s embrace, the feeling of loss that he’d been holding at bay finally broke loose, and tears flowed down his face as well.
Eventually, they regained their composure and separated themselves. The elder Bennett, however, refused to release Jason’s hand, as if afraid that if he let go his son would vanish once again.
Jason repeated his earlier questions. “What are you doing here, Dad? How did you get here?”
Before his father could answer, Reyga interrupted. “Please forgive me, Jason, but are you saying that Brusha is your father?”
“Yeah, but his name is Bruce, not Brusha. Bruce Bennett.”
The Loremaster frowned. “But how can that be? I have known Brusha…Bruce, as you call him…for longer than you have been alive. He arrived in this very village almost thirty years ago!”
“I don’t know. Why is he so much older now? He was in his forties when I left.” Then a thought occurred to him. “Is Mom here too? Did she come with you?”
His father let go of his hand and dropped his gaze to the tabletop. “Your mother is not here. I’m afraid she left me. We have been divorced for many years now.”
He stared in at his father in shock. What? What do you mean ‘divorced’? You were happily married three days ago! The word echoed through his mind. Divorced…divorced… His parents had always been the epitome of the “match made in heaven.” He sank into a chair.
“What happened? Why did she leave?” Then what his father had said hit him. “What do you mean, years?” he asked. “Dad, I’ve only been here three days!”
Bruce Bennett shook his head as he gazed into his son’s eyes. “Oh, Jason,” he said, sitting down. “Oh, my dear son. You disappeared fifty years ago.”
Jason was stunned. “Fif…” he breathed. It was hard to think. Fifty years? How could that be? He couldn’t grasp what he had just heard and decided to set it aside for the moment. There were more important questions he needed answered. “Why did Mom leave?” he repeated.
“It was my fault,” his father said. “When you didn’t return that night, we were frantic. Along with the McFarlands, we searched the woods for hours, thinking you might be injured or unconscious. We called the local authorities, who organized search parties to comb the area. We searched for weeks, but the only sign we ever found were your footprints in the dust of that building in the middle of the woods. They led to a doorway and simply stopped. We never understood that.”
“That’s where the rift was that brought me here.”
His
father nodded. “I didn’t discover that until many years later. Eventually we had to return to the States. Every chance I had, I returned to Scotland to keep looking for you. The travel expenses drained our savings. I sold my business and used the money to keep searching. After almost two years of this, your mother finally accepted the fact that you were gone. I, on the other hand, wouldn’t allow myself to give up hope, and refused to quit looking. You were everything to me, and I wasn’t going to stop searching until I found you or died trying.”
He rubbed a shaky hand over his face. “Finally, your mother had had enough. Three years after you disappeared, she told me she couldn’t take it any longer. She said that she couldn’t live in the past with me anymore. Either I would get on with life with her, or she would get on with life without me.” He spread his hands. “You see the result of my decision.”
The two were silent for a few moments, and then Jason asked, “So, how did you get here?”
“After your mother left, I sold everything and moved to Scotland. The McFarlands had plenty of room and allowed me to live with them. I got a job in a local pub at night, and spent the days searching the countryside for any clue to your disappearance. I spent hours and hours researching records and histories of the area. Ten years after you vanished, I came across a reference to someone else who had disappeared in those woods three hundred years before. I was surprised to learn that he was one of our ancestors, Bothan McFarland.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Jason saw Reyga stiffen, but he was too involved in his father’s tale to wonder about it. He searched his memory, dredging through fragmented segments of his father's half-forgotten history lessons.
“I kinda remember the name, but I don’t remember you ever saying that one of our ancestors had disappeared.”
“I didn’t know he’d disappeared either,” his father replied. “I’d always been told he got drunk one night and fell into a well. I asked Uncle Nyall about that, and he said that’s what he’d been told as well, so I started digging into the local records from that time.”
“And?”
“Bothan apparently went out hunting one day and never returned.” He paused, and then added, “All they ever found of him was his hunting gun.”
Jason knew that tone of voice. It was the voice that said ‘go ahead and ask me.’ Looking intently at his father, he asked slowly, “Where did they find his gun?”
“I think you can probably guess,” his father replied. “They found it leaning against a wall inside that building.”
“So that building…”
His father nodded. “When I read that, I knew that somehow that building held the key to your disappearance as well. I bought a tent and began sleeping in the woods beside it.” He chuckled. “Your great-uncle thought I had gone completely around the bend, and I believe he was about to have me committed. I told him what I’d found and begged him to let me live in those woods. After an hour, he finally relented, and said I could do what I wanted. I imagine he thought it would be easier to simply let me do that than to try to drag me away to some asylum.” He shifted in his chair to a more comfortable position. “So, I began my life in the woods. When I wasn’t working at the pub, I would sleep in shifts, a couple of hours at a time, and explore the building when I was awake. I learned every square inch of that building. I became quite the talk of Aberdeen. 'The galoot from the States.'" He laughed and shook his head. “I can’t say that I blame them. I would have thought the same thing.”
“How long did you live in the woods?”
“Ten years,” his father sighed. “Ten years of watching and waiting, without even knowing what it was that I was watching and waiting for. Then one day, it was like I suddenly woke up. I looked at myself and thought, ‘I’m a sixty-five year old man, living in the middle of the woods, looking for a son who disappeared twenty years ago.’ I did a lot of thinking after that, and decided that your mother had been right all along. It was time that I got on with what was left of my life, just as she had done. But, after investing so much time, I couldn’t just pack up and leave. It was the middle of summer, so I decided to wait until the end of the year, and then I would give up the search.”
“So what happened?”
“Three weeks later, just after dusk, I looked out from my tent and saw a glow inside the building. I thought my heart had stopped. I wondered if perhaps I had finally gone mad. I went into the building, and followed the light until I came to a room. The room. It was the one where your footprints had stopped. The glow was from the doorway on the other side. I’d been in that room a thousand times, and I knew what was on the other side of that door. I knew that beyond that door was another empty room just like the one I was standing in, yet when I looked through the door, I saw a forest. I knew this was where you had gone, so I took a deep breath and stepped through. Everything went black. At first, I thought I had made a terrible mistake, but then I found myself in the same woods I’d seen through the door. I had arrived in Teleria.”
Jason shook his head, confused. “But I don’t understand why you’re so much older. How could you have come here thirty years ago, but not stepped through the rift for another twenty years?” he asked.
His father shrugged. “I don’t know. From my point of view, you disappeared fifty years ago, but here you are, still seventeen.”
Reyga spoke up. “There can be only one explanation,” he said. “The rifts are not simply doorways through space and dimensions, but through time as well. Amazing! It simply never occurred to us. This will certainly give those studying the rifts something to think about.”
They sat in silence until Kellar returned with their meal. After they had all eaten, Reyga said, “I think it would be best, Brusha…I mean Bruce…that will take some getting used to. I think it would be best if you accompanied us to Lore's Haven. The Circle will want to hear your story.”
~~~
Before getting back on the road, they found an outfitter where they replenished their food and water. They rearranged the supplies so Jason’s father could ride on one of the charnoths, and set out once more.
“This is a remarkable world, Jason, don’t you think?” his father asked.
“It’s something else,” he answered. “I’ve seen some pretty wild things already.”
“The dimsai is truly amazing,” the elder Bennett said.
“The what?”
“The dimsai,” his father replied. At Jason’s blank look, he said, “What we would call magic in our world. Almost everyone here has some ability with it.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t seen any magic.” Then he stopped. “Or have I?” He looked at Reyga.
Reyga met his eyes and sighed. “Yes,” he said, “you have seen people using dimsai.”
“The game of catch?”
“Yes. And the chair that first night you arrived.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about…what did you call it? Dimsai? That seems like a pretty big thing to leave out.”
“I am sorry, Jason,” Reyga apologized. “I was following the orders of the Circle. You were not to know of dimsai just yet.”
“Why wouldn’t the Circle want Jason to know about dimsai?” his father asked.
“I cannot say anything other than that we were unsure as to what kind of person Jason was. If he turned out to be an enemy, we did not want to reveal too much to him about our world,” the Loremaster explained.
Jason crossed his arms. “And just when were you going to decide whether or not you could tell me about this dimsai?”
“After you met with the Circle. The meeting was for us to learn about you and what manner of person you were.”
“And if you’d decided I couldn’t be trusted? What would have happened to me then? If you turned me loose, I would have found out about dimsai eventually if everyone has the ability to use it. What would the Circle have done?”
Reyga shook his head. “I do not know. But please believe me whe
n I tell you that there is much more that you need to know.”
“Like what?” Jason demanded.
“I cannot say,” the Loremaster said. “It is not my place. When we get to Lore's Haven, the High One will tell you what he thinks you should know.”
“Well, I may just have a few things to say myself to this High One,” Jason replied.
“Please, Jason,” Reyga said. “I can only speak for myself, but I do not believe you to be a threat, and if it were up to me, I would tell you anything you wished to know. However, the Circle has not met you yet, and I must follow their directives. I know this is not fair to you, but I ask you to restrain your anger until after you meet with the Circle and the High One.”
He had to admit that if their roles had been reversed, he might have done the same thing. Still, he felt as if he had been deceived. “I’ll try to stay open minded,” he grumbled. “But I’m not happy about this.”
“I know,” Reyga said. “I am not altogether pleased with the situation myself. I thank you for your forbearance.” He gave Jason a formal bow.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Jason muttered. Then, slightly embarrassed by Reyga’s bow, he turned back to the trail.
They walked for about another half hour, when the woods around them fell silent. The only sound was the whisper of the breeze through the trees. Gatlor signaled the group to halt. As soon as they stopped, Lenai appeared in front of Gatlor and said, “Prepare!”
In a blur, Gatlor and Calador drew their weapons and scanned the trees around them. Seerka’s ears laid back, and Jason could hear a growl from deep in his throat. The Ferrin’s claws were fully extended, and he looked ready to leap on the first thing that approached the camp.
Jason glanced around nervously, not knowing what to expect. The forest, so cheery with birdsong just a moment ago, now seemed threatening and dangerous in the ominous silence. He jumped as the sound of something crashing through the underbrush broke the stillness.
From a Far Land Page 7