by Blair Drake
Jasper groaned and tried to push Rylan’s hand away, but the healer was insistent. “Jasper! Get up! We need to get going.”
With reluctance flooding every pore, Jasper rolled to his side and stood. Every muscle in his body protested against the movement. He’d been too tired to pull off his shoes the night before, but in the light of day, the pain in his heels couldn’t be ignored. Taking a seat on a fallen tree trunk, he loosened the laces and tugged off his shoes. His socks quickly followed, taking the skin with them. He caught sight of the raw flesh on the back of his heels and winced.
“What’s the matter?” Rylan asked, his voice rough with impatience.
“It’s my feet. I have blisters. I’m not sure I can walk.”
“Ye must walk. We have no choice. I didn’t mention this earlier, but we must reach our destination before the next full moon.”
“What difference does it make? You’ve waited nearly twenty years for this spell to be broken.”
“The book has foretold yer coming, just as it foretells what happens next. If we don’t find the golden stone in time, I’ll be facing certain death. Every day I feel weaker. The time is nearly upon me. Besides, if we don’t break the curse ye’ll be doomed to live here for the rest of yer days.”
Jasper tensed and became more alert. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that ye might be forced to stay here forever, on Ardhi.”
“You mean, if I don’t find this stone in time, I won’t be able to leave?”
“Yes. That’s possible.”
“And how many days before the next full moon?”
“Ten.”
“Ten? We have ten days to find this magic stone?”
“Yes.”
“You told me it would take the better part of a week to get to the river. How far past that must we go?”
“According to the book, the stone lies hidden in a cave deep in the forest on the southernmost boundary of our land. We have a long way to go.”
Jasper glared at him. “How long?”
“If we move at the same pace as yesterday, it will take us two weeks altogether.”
Jasper gasped in alarm. “Two weeks? That’s fourteen days, isn’t it? You said it’s only ten days until the next full moon. We’ll never make it in time!”
“As I told ye, we need to get a move on, but first let me see to yer feet.”
“No, they’re fine. We can’t afford to waste any more time.”
Jasper was filled with sudden urgency. He also had an eighteenth birthday to celebrate and final exams to take. He couldn’t be stuck there indefinitely. He needed to get home. With only ten days until the next full moon, they needed to make haste.
Thrusting his feet into his socks, he ignored the pain in his heels and pulled on his shoes. As soon as he’d tied the laces, he jumped to his feet. “Ready?”
With that, he shrugged on his backpack and resolutely headed off, not bothering to check if Rylan followed. It was a full minute before he realized he was on his own. He turned back. Rylan was a mere shadow in the forest behind him. With a groan of frustration, Jasper retraced his steps.
“What now?” he demanded as he came up to Rylan.
The healer’s gaze remained calm. “Yer going the wrong way. The river lies over yonder.”
He pointed at a right angle to the direction Jasper had taken. Jasper clenched his jaw against a spray of angry words. It was his fault he charged off into the forest without waiting for directions. He knew there was no point taking his temper out on Rylan.
Biting his tongue, Jasper fell into step behind Rylan and resolutely ignored the feel of his skin rubbing against the leather of his shoes. He should have simply waited for Rylan to heal him. After all, that’s what the old man did. He’d healed his cheek. It was as good as new and they’d still managed to get started on their trip before daybreak. But now they were on the road again, and Jasper had been so determined to get them on the move, he could hardly call a halt to seek treatment for his feet, no matter how much they hurt.
No, he’d walk on if it killed him and when they finally paused for a rest, then he’d ask Rylan for help. Jasper sent a silent plea heavenward he could last that long.
The morning took on the same kind of monotony it had the day before. Rylan led the way, with Jasper bringing up the rear. His feet were now numb, which was probably a blessing. They still had a long way to go. The sun filtered through the high canopy above them, heating the moist air and, like Rylan predicted, turning it into steam.
Mosquitoes and gnats buzzed around Jasper’s ears and bit him more times than he could count. He got tired of slapping at them and in the end let them have their fill. He thought longingly of the thickness of his wool blazer left behind in Rylan’s hut. The added layer would have protected him from the bites, but it was too damn hot and humid for him to give the idea more than a fleeting consideration.
Finally, Rylan signaled they’d stop and Jasper collapsed onto a fallen tree trunk. It had almost rotted through and was moist with moss and compacted vegetation. It smelled wet and earthy and reminded Jasper of the thick forest bordering the grounds of Gray Cliffs Academy.
Here he was, thousands of miles from everything familiar, on a strange planet and in a different century, and yet the smells of the rainforest were the same. He was filled with a surge of homesickness.
Rylan squatted down beside him. “How’re ye doing, boy?”
Jasper managed a tight smile. “I’m fine.”
“Ye’ve been limping for hours. Are yer feet still giving ye trouble?”
Jasper nodded. Untying the laces, he tugged at his shoes. Pain exploded across his heels. His feet were on fire. It felt like even more of his skin had peeled away. He caught his breath at the agony of it and with gritted teeth, hauled the shoes all the way off. The socks quickly followed.
With gentle hands, Rylan took hold of first one foot, then the other. He peered at the raw and weeping flesh and slowly shook his head. “This must have been torture. When ye mentioned blisters earlier, I had no idea it was so bad. Why didn’t ye tell me?”
Jasper merely offered a shrug, beyond words.
“Silly boy!” Rylan’s words held no heat. With a muttered curse, he set Jasper’s feet back down and then rummaged in his knapsack.
With infinite gentleness, he applied a strange-looking balm that instantly soothed the pain. A few mumbled words in an unintelligible language, and Jasper’s heels were as good as new. He stared at the healthy pink flesh in wonder, taken aback all over again at the healing magic in Rylan’s hands.
“That really is amazing,” he murmured.
Rylan winked. “No, boy. It’s good old-fashioned magic.”
Jasper continued to regard his heels in silence. Acceptance slowly sank in. Somehow, he’d been thrust into an alternate universe where magic was almost commonplace. This place, so far removed from the world he’d grown up in, made his head spin.
Furthermore, if Rylan were to be believed, Jasper also carried magic within him in the form of supernatural strength. Jasper would never believe it had he not experienced the truth of it himself—more than once. There was no way he should have been able to break a man’s arm or fight off a lioness with his bare hands, and yet he had. It was obvious something beyond rational explanation had happened, something that could only be magic. He closed his eyes against the enormity of it, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. He was startled by the feel of Rylan’s hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t look so worried, boy. I understand this is a lot to take in. For me and others like me, accepting the magic was easy. We grew up with it all around. Not everyone had it, but enough did that it wasn’t out of place. We accept these special powers and most people use it for good and for the betterment of our people.”
He patted Jasper on the back in an effort to reassure him. “Don’t dwell on the magic too much. The sooner ye accept yer abilities, the easier it will be. And take heart, yer impressive strength will only b
e called upon in emergencies. For much of the time, ye’ll live yer life in a normal way, as ye have for the past seventeen years.” Rylan gave a disparaging chuckle.
“Not like me and my magic. Healers get called upon night and day, sometimes hour after hour. It’s a tiring job and one I come to resent every now and then. And then I remember the good I do and the lives I’ve helped along the way, and I feel kindly toward my abilities again.”
“You said your father was a healer. In the beginning, did he give you any training?”
“Yes, of course. My earliest memories are those of accompanying my father to houses in the village and watching him heal ailments as varied as nasty mosquito bites to severe burns. I watched him prepare poultices, administer potions, heal broken bones and nasty wounds. It’s how I knew what to do with yer cheek. Why do ye ask?”
Jasper thought about his own parents. They seemed so normal, like every other mom and dad he knew. His dad started out as a builder and now ran a construction company employing more than forty people. They built large-scale commercial projects up and down the west coast of the U.S. His mom was a research scientist. She worked in a cancer laboratory in Seattle. Is it possible one or both of them has magic? He couldn’t conceive of it and yet, he had to know so he put the question to Rylan.
“At least one of them must carry the gene,” the healer replied sagely. “Magic is always carried down through bloodlines. It cannot be passed on any other way.” He paused and dug around in his knapsack and pulled out the old dusty book he’d produced back in his home. “What’s yer father’s name?”
Jasper shook his head in disbelief and a grin tugged at his mouth. “I can’t believe you’ve been lugging that around! As if we didn’t have enough to carry!”
Rylan’s tawny eyes flashed. His voice was rough with impatience and a hint of anger. “This book will guide us to the golden stone and set us both free. Make no mistake, boy. This book will also get ye home.”
Feeling suitably chastised, Jasper lowered his head. “My father’s name is Roger Walker.”
Rylan nodded and his somber expression eased. He opened the book amid a fresh cloud of dust and flipped to the back. From Jasper’s position on the fallen tree trunk, he could see a finely printed list of names, like an index. Rylan ran his gnarled finger down the entries, mumbling under his breath all the while.
“Wabcus, Waite, Wakehurst, Walker. Here we are: Walker.”
Jasper’s heart skipped a beat. He leaned forward. Anticipation curled his hands into fists.
Rylan cleared his throat. “There are three entries under Walker. Each has its origin in a different century. They are Richardus Galefridus Walker, Stephenus Thomas Walker and Jasper Rogerus Walker.”
Jasper’s heart thumped hard against his chest. He stared at the words in disbelief. Though he’d never heard of any of those names, it was clear there was a family connection. His father was Roger Walker. Jasper’s name was taken from his great grandfather. It couldn’t be coincidence. He wondered if his father had any idea of their connection to magic.
“They have to be related,” he whispered. “The magic must be on my father’s side.” He shook his head, filled with disbelief.
“Don’t feel too badly about not knowing, boy. From what I understand of yer modern world, things are much different than here and now. Yer people don’t rely on magic as much as we do—and did in the past. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or bad, but I guess that’s just the way ’tis.”
Jasper thought of his father and wondered if he had any idea Jasper inherited magical power from their forefathers. And then another memory struck him. His father once came to the rescue when a brick wall fell on one of his workers during a freak wind storm. The wall should have been strong enough to withstand the pressure, but it wasn’t. The man had been working beside it.
The wall crumbled, and the man was crushed beneath the pile of bricks. If it weren’t for his father’s quick thinking and unusual supernatural strength, the man surely would have died. Roger Walker raced to the scene, and with his bare hands and sheer brute strength, lifted off enough of the collapsed wall for others to drag the injured worker free. At the time, the police and paramedics explained he experienced a rush of adrenaline that happens in times of stress and emergency situations to give the recipient an otherwise unexplainable supernatural strength.
Everyone supposed that’s what happened that day to Roger Walker—Jasper, included. Now he couldn’t help but wonder if something far simpler had been at play… Something like magic.
Does my father have any idea he has magical powers, or does he accept the most reasonable, most palatable explanation? Jasper wished he knew. He looked back at Rylan.
“You say I was sent here to help you. Why wouldn’t the gods find someone from your own place and time? It doesn’t make sense to send me. You’re already surrounded by magic. I’m clueless about what I have to do. If I hadn’t stumbled upon that scene in the clearing, you and I might not have ever met, and I would not have known where I was or what I was meant to do.”
Rylan regarded him steadily. “I guess the gods know what they’re doing, after all. They put me in yer path – or ye in mine. It doesn’t much matter which way it went. The thing is, we did find each other, and together we’re going to break this spell.”
“What about your daughter? Do you think she’s still alive? Why didn’t the gods find her and ask her to do this quest?”
Rylan shrugged. “Who knows? It’s not for us to question the intentions of the gods. That only leads to trouble. No, we’re best to trust they know what they’re doing and hope like hell we come out of this alive.”
Jasper felt a trickle of apprehension. A vision of him fighting off another wild beast flashed across his mind. What if I’m not strong enough the next time? What if I fail in this quest and Rylan’s life is cut short well before his time?
His mind continued to spin with questions that had no answers and left him increasingly tense. As if sensing his turmoil, Rylan touched his arm. Just the feel of the old man’s rough skin against his filled him with calmness. Jasper let his breath out on a quiet sigh.
“Don’t fret, boy. What will be, will be. Ye wouldn’t have been sent here if ye didn’t have what it takes to complete this mission. Trust me, we’re going to be fine.”
Jasper stared at him, dread still swirling through his veins. He wanted so hard to believe Rylan. He didn’t want to be caught in this place forever. He wanted to go home, celebrate his birthday, take his final exams. He missed his friends, his parents, his family. He even missed the safety and predictability of school. To believe he and Rylan were going to be anything other than fine was unacceptable.
Chapter 7
They made camp that night deep in the rainforest. The mosquitoes continued to feast on Jasper, but Rylan made him a lotion of various leaves, tree sap, and things he collected off the forest floor and applied it to Jasper’s skin. It didn’t stop the biting, but it took away most of the burn and itch, and for that Jasper was grateful.
“Does anyone live in the forest?” Jasper asked, enjoying the sweet taste of barbequed hare Rylan had managed to trap and cook over the fire.
Rylan nodded. “Yes, but they’re not the kind of people ye want to meet. It’s a place of banishment for people who break the law. They’re forbidden to return to any of the villages under threat of being put to death.”
“For how long?”
“Forever. They’re never allowed to return.”
“Wow. That’s pretty harsh,” Jasper replied.
Rylan regarded him steadily. “This is a harsh land. Rules need to be followed. Lawbreakers are punished accordingly.”
“What about the men and women who were tormenting you the day I arrived? Will they be punished for their behavior?”
Rylan shook his head slowly. “Drakor Baron has, no doubt, already made a full report to the King. The King would be amused to discover his people were threatening me like that. He’d l
ove the very thought his curse of so long ago continues to torture me. No. Those people won’t be punished.”
Jasper was filled with a surge of anger at the injustice of it. He hoped he and the cruel and malicious King would come face to face one day like Rylan half-expected they would, so he could give the man a piece of his mind. What the King did wasn’t right, and it definitely wasn’t fair. Rylan was a good man and a gifted healer whose life was being wasted because of a petty act of revenge. Jasper vowed to do all he could to set things right.
They made good time the next day, as usual rising before the sun. Jasper’s heels no longer troubled him, and they maintained a brisk pace. Jasper was getting used to the weighty backpack and the unaccustomed exertion while breathing the hot and humid air. By the fourth day, he barely broke a sweat.
“Ye are doing well, boy.” Rylan nodded his approval. Shrugging off his knapsack, he undid the strap and pulled out a piece of dried meat. He handed it to Jasper.
“Thanks,” Jasper murmured and took the offered food.
Rylan tore off another piece and put it in his mouth. Chewing in silence, the two of them stared around the unrelenting green and brown of the forest. A strange bird call echoed in the dimness. Jasper listened to it with curiosity, wondering about the bird making it. He was glad they hadn’t encountered any other man-eating creatures, but still, he’d be beyond pleased to see the end of the dark and humid jungle.
“How much further before we get to the other side?” he asked around a piece of meat.
Rylan swallowed before replying. “If we keep up this pace, we should be through the rainforest in the next day or so.”
“And then what?”
“Then we hit the land of Austin Baudoin.”
Jasper looked at him. “Who’s Austin Baudoin?”
“He’s a legend of Ardhi’s history. He was a courageous soldier and right-hand man to the King. Not the present King. No, Austin Baudoin lived many centuries ago. He fought bands of lawless marauders who were displaced and sought to steal land from the Ardhians. He died right there, defending this land. The plains were named after him. The terrain is similar to land outside my village. It will be easier going than the forest but not without its challenges.”