“So, you sell other people’s stuff?” Kenneth sounded amused.
“Not exactly. Oftentimes, the original owner is long dead. Sometimes the items have been abandoned.”
“So how do you find them?” Gus’s ears were quivering with curiosity.
“I just go around old ruins and such and see what I can dig up.”
“So you just start making a mess of the decrepit surroundings like you own the place?” Kenneth smiled. “Just start at the edge of town and dig until you find something shiny? That sounds like a long and weary day to me.”
“Nothing like that at all. I look into the stone and find its weaknesses and strengths. I can move stone safely and find the easiest route deeper into a structure—”
“You have Stone-Sight?” Osric interrupted, leaning forward. His surprise caused his voice to be louder than he had intended. Orson nodded an affirmative. Osric vividly recalled days spent with his father before he was killed. He also had Stone-Sight for his ability, and Osric wished he had learned more about his father’s gift before his parents were killed. Though he knew his parents’ deaths had honorably provided nourishment for a family of lions, he often wished he hadn’t lost them so young. He quickly brought his thoughts back to the situation at hand. “Orson, you seemed hesitant to tell me about where you found the items you sell. Why is that?”
“Well, sometimes there aren’t any ruins around, and a bear has to eat, right?” Orson shrugged.
“You steal what you can’t find and then you sell it?” Gus seemed untroubled by the idea.
“Steal is such a strong word. I like to think of it as relocating goods to a better home.” He moved his paws in a sweeping motion, mimicking the distribution of goods.
“Just how profitable is this business of yours?” Osric could see why he had been hesitant to divulge his methods.
“Lately, not profitable enough. I manage to get from one location to another just fine, but I would be hard-pressed to settle down on my earnings.”
“How would you like to put that gift of yours to a more honest use?” Osric smiled as he leaned back in his chair, watching Gus’s glare with a hint of satisfaction.
“What do you have in mind?”
“I think I might know what Ero wanted you to help us with, but why don’t you show me those wares you mentioned and we can discuss it more later.” Osric stood quickly, trying to determine why he felt such a strong urge to recruit Orson into their fold. It may have been a desire to be close to a gift that reminded him of his father, or maybe one of his gifts was urging him in unexpected ways, but he could not say.
“Of course. They are back at the inn near the tavern.” Orson crossed the room with his back hunched and ducked through the doorway, leading his new companions to his cart. At the mention of the tavern, Gus shot Osric a glare and then scampered up his shoulder to hitch a ride. Osric ignored the glance, and Gus spoke quietly in his ear as he walked.
“Why are you so sure this big brute can help us?” Gus’s hunched frame grew as defiant as any prairie dog could. The wrath in his eyes could have burned a hole in Osric’s face. Two new scars marked his leg, signifying his inability to attract an accurate hunter’s eye—a fact that only intensified his angry appearance.
“Gus, I’m learning that when my Empath and Trust abilities insist someone is genuine and trustworthy, I can believe it. I am not sure if he will be able to help us in the manner I hope, but I know we can trust him. I have a very strong feeling that he is exactly where he is supposed to be.”
“Great. Our cause is now relying on your feelings?”
“If I can’t use my new abilities to help us, then what is the point of all this?”
“Fine, but I’m not convinced you know how to use them yet. There are too many unknowns now that we can see your abilities interacting with each other. Don’t hold me responsible if you misread indigestion as an urge to recruit a group of bandits who kill us all.” Gus stared defiantly ahead at Orson’s back. Kenneth chuckled openly at the exchange, while Orson looked back at the two with a bit of insecurity. Osric could discern a sense of conflict between the big bear’s emotions and thoughts; anxiety and excitement clung to him like a wet cloak.
Orson led them to the stables behind an inn near the Tipsy Tree. He slipped a coin to a young man just inside and headed to a private stall in the back. Inside was a small rickety cart, covered by a canvas. He drew a wand from a pouch at his neck and silently cast a spell to counter whatever enchantments were protecting his goods. He untied the knots securing the cover with another spell and pulled the canvas away.
The cart contained a massive chest with tarnished but elaborate brass hinges and locks. With his large, clawed paws, Orson pulled two keys from his pouch and unlocked the chest with surprising deftness. He lifted the lid and stepped aside. Gus scurried off of Osric’s shoulder and perched on the edge of the chest, peering down inside to inspect the contents.
“Did Ero mention any items specifically that he thought I would want to see?” Osric looked down into the chest with keen curiosity.
“Not specifically. He handled a few of my rarer objects, but he didn’t seem particularly interested in any one thing.”
Osric activated his Wand-Maker’s ability, which allowed him to see strands of magic in inanimate objects, as well as living beings. All magic came from within the world in the form of thin strands, which through his ability looked like bright strings of colored light. He was immediately inundated with a collage of color emanating from a variety of objects. Some of the items were the typical trinkets one would expect to see in a merchant’s cart—wands of every model imaginable, jewelry, knives, small statuettes, and children’s toys—but a few of the objects surprised him. Osric reached into the chest and withdrew a dagger and a ring. He placed them on the rough wood of the cart.
“Those are both Elven-made.” Gus eyed the two items with blatant appreciation. “Just your typical protection spells, though. Although, they’re pretty strong, judging by the density of strands woven into them.” Gus was also using the Wand-Maker’s ability to inspect the items. He had taught Osric how to activate and use the gift when they discovered he had somehow acquired the ability. Like everyone else on Archana, Osric had been born with one gift. His gift was the Portentist ability, but over the past year he had mysteriously begun developing dozens more.
Osric’s attention was pulled back to the chest by another object that seemed out of place. He reached in and retrieved a heavy stone, the size of his palm and pale grey in color, and lifted it away from the other items. A heavy thrumming resonated from his Portentist gift, sending chills coursing through his body. His vision grew sharp, smells intensified, and he could feel every curve, indentation, crack, and grain of dust that was part of the stone. There was no doubt in his mind he had found something incredibly important or powerful, but the jumble of strands were woven tightly and attached to the stone in a way he had never seen before.
No amount of power sent through the Wand-Maker’s gift would allow his vision to pierce the veil of layered strands or allow him to see what was contained inside the cocoon that held the spell. He was fascinated with the object. It appeared to be a normal rock, yet his gifts all demanded that there was far more to it than that. Even without his gifts, the stone tricked his physical senses as well. The weight of it was oddly too heavy, and yet he lifted it with an ease that belied its heft.
“Where did you find this, Orson?” Osric spoke slowly while running his hand over the stone.
“Eh, let me think.” He scratched his cheek with one sharp claw as he pondered. “I do believe I picked that one up in a cave.”
“A cave? Can you recall where the cave was located?”
“Sure, sure. Interesting story, actually. I was up to the north and east of here some months back. I got caught in a terrible snowstorm and took refuge inside a small cave. Being me, I started looking around at the stone. I tucked that rock into the chest because it had such an odd appe
arance, you see? When I look at that stone with my ability, it is completely flawless. Yet, with my own eyes I can see structural flaws that should indicate weak spots within the stone. Strangest thing.” Orson shook his head and peered at the rock with an expression of distrust. “I’ve never seen a stone that could trick my sight, so I couldn’t just leave it lying there.”
Gus dragged his own eyes from the odd rock and looked up at the big bear.
“This thing was just lying on the ground in an empty cave?” Kenneth asked with surprise in his voice.
“Well, not exactly. The cave was concealed quite effectively. Had I not been able to scan the mountainside with my gift, I never would have found the entrance. And it wasn’t empty,” Orson added.
Gus’s ears quivered at the implications that other mysterious items had been found along with the stone. “I discovered a stash of scrolls in a niche in the wall, several well-made weapons, and a few changes of clothing in the cave as well. Everything else has long since sold, though. No one seems to want a strange rock.”
“I would be interested in studying it further. How much do you want for it?” Osric asked.
“I will make you a deal. You study that thing for a while and tell me what you discover, and we can haggle over price later.”
“So, you want me to tell you how much it is worth before you tell me what you will take for it?” Osric grinned at the sly attempt. He was surprised that Orson had not managed to swindle someone into buying the so-called strange rock.
“You’re a bright lad, and I am a starving merchant. I assure you I will be fair on the price.”
“From the look of your leftover winter stores, it seems that you are far from starving.” Gus crossed his small arms across his furry chest and glared up at Orson.
“Now, insults aren’t necessary, are they? I am far thinner under all this fur than it would seem.”
Gus snorted and turned his attention back to the strange stone. Osric grinned at Gus’s grumpy demeanor and focused the full power of his gifts on Orson. He could sense that the bear was trustworthy, at least for any eventuality that Osric could imagine. His Empath ability allowed him to feel Orson’s emotions, and the big ursidae was radiating joy, anticipation, and admiration for Osric and his companions. He felt a strong desire to help and was only mildly experiencing doubt about staying on in Stanton to see what work Osric may have for him. Osric was sure that Orson could be a beneficial ally in the upcoming conflicts.
“Orson, I will make you an even better deal,” Osric said, eliciting a curious gaze from the bear. “You let me hang on to this stone, and I will provide you with both the knowledge you seek about its strange nature and room and board while you work with us.”
Gus and Kenneth both stared slack-jawed at the offer, but neither spoke to contradict him. Orson hesitated.
“Normally I would laugh at such an offer, but I have a feeling that will turn out to be the best price I could get for it. You tell me what you learn from it, and I will be happy to accept the room and board, at least for a while.”
“Welcome aboard. Would you like to see the barracks you have heard so much about?”
3 – The Big Reveal
Leading the way to the barracks just west of the palace as Osric made small talk with Orson, Kenneth chose a path that would take them through the busier parts of the city. The party meandered slowly to afford the ursidae an upright posture and the opportunity to see some of the town. Osric had to admit that since Bridgett had left and Kenneth had taken over most of the weapons training for new recruits, Osric had spent very little time with his best friend. Memories of their childhood and more recent adventures flashed through his mind as he followed his friend along the road. Kenneth’s dark hair fell in a thick braid to the middle of his back, complementing his bronzed skin. He brushed his hands over his coarsely muscled forearms to ward off the insects attempting to suckle at his veins. Jane’s cooking had added a few pounds to his frame since she had moved in, but his daily sword training had kept his body as solid as it had ever been. The additional bulk had aided in his sparring with Osric, lending power to each of his motions. Though he still had less prowess with a sword than Osric, he was a closer match than he had ever been before.
Osric studied Kenneth’s movements as they traversed the distance to the barracks. His confidence was at an all-time high. Although Kenneth tried to show respect for Osric’s heartbreak and not openly flaunt his love for Jane, every stolen kiss just out of his direct sight gave Osric’s heart pangs of regret. They often invited him to Kenneth’s house for meals, and although grateful, Osric knew why his friends had showered him with so much attention over the last few months. What should have been appreciation was replaced by frustration with every invite. He did not want charity or pity; he wanted to be invited for his company.
“Maybe when we get there, Osric will finally stick around long enough to get a haircut.” Gus broke the silence.
“So, there are people of every profession there?” Orson inquired.
Osric brought his attention back to the conversation. If there was one thing that could still ignite a spark of the excitement he had once had, it was the barracks and what it was becoming. Osric had successfully managed to reproduce the complex spell that had served as both protection and concealment of the Grove of the Unicorn. As far as they knew, no single wizard had ever had enough power to cast such a spell on his own. The implications of Osric’s abilities were both wonderful and terrifying, as he still had little control over the use of his various gifts. When he had constructed the spell that turned the old Vigile barracks into a new haven for research and training, Osric had acted more on instinct guided by prophecy than on any execution of knowledge or skill. Though he had managed to cast the most complicated and elaborate spell any of them had ever heard of, he frequently failed to accomplish simple tasks when trying to use his new gifts.
“Every profession would demand a much larger base than we have. It seems that your size has more to do with bulk than brains,” Gus said, perched on Osric’s shoulder and staring ahead.
“I would suggest you eat him for spouting off rude remarks like that, but that would only do him honor he doesn’t deserve,” Kenneth said to Orson, glaring at Gus over his shoulder.
“I prefer my appetizers less aged,” Orson responded in good humor. “Of course, it is obvious that I did not intend to imply that every profession on Archana would have a place in the barracks. But you did mention a barber, so naturally I began to wonder exactly what I would be seeing when we arrive.”
Gus appeared even more frustrated by Orson’s graceful reaction to his insult.
“Well, it wasn’t a week after we began that we started to notice that some of the new inhabitants did not want to leave. Bringing a barber in was Jane’s idea,” Kenneth said as he led them up the last slope of the road. As they crested the low hill, the pillars surrounding the barracks came into view.
“Your lady friend?” Orson inquired as he looked around in excitement.
“Yeah, she loves my long hair, but she insists not just any man can pull it off,” Kenneth said. Gus turned and directed an I-told-you-so glance at Osric. “The scholars were starting to look more like rough tradesmen than cultured seekers of knowledge.”
“So, you’re recruiting?” Excitement grew on Orson’s face as he questioned the group.
“Not nearly to the extent that your rumors have informed you, but there have been many newcomers to our humble organization.” Osric countered Orson’s enthusiasm with a somber tone. Yet this did not deter the bear from continuing the conversation eagerly.
“Oh, come now. You have a barber, and this lad mentioned scholars.” Orson motioned to Kenneth. “And not that my mind is focused on one thing, but you all look to be fed well, which suggests a fine cook. If I’m not mistaken, the prairie dog on your shoulder is the most famous Wand-Maker in the world. Yet you want me to believe you are a small organization bent on overthrowing a corrupt government?�
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Kenneth stopped just outside the barrier to the training grounds surrounding the barracks. He stood smiling, and Osric shook his head at the playfulness in his demeanor. He could sense the reveal that Kenneth was looking forward to, but first he had to set it up.
“What do you think of our humble establishment?” Osric motioned at the decrepit barracks in the distance.
Orson turned to look at the building and appeared confused as he stared across the field. The overgrown grass met with the darkened interior cast doubt upon emotions that were only moments ago torrents of jubilation. Frustration and disappointment clouded his thoughts as Osric and his companions held their tongues. He let the emotions permeate the ursidae until it seemed unbearable, even to Osric. He moved to Orson’s side and reached his left hand up to rest on the bear’s shoulder.
“This can’t be it.” Orson shook his head. “It just can't.”
“This is what I can offer you,” Osric said.
“But where are the thousands who flocked to your side?” Orson looked to Kenneth and Gus for reassurance but found none. Gus merely shook his head in genuine disgust, and Kenneth appeared uninterested, as Osric had intended.
“This is what we are, and this is where we started. We live in that building, and if you join us you will live here for a time.”
“But you have so much. How can this be the place that spawned the rebellion that defeated the Kallegian?”
“We defeated the Kallegian before we were housed here.” Osric could sense Orson’s desperation, but he could not afford to yield until he knew that Orson would not betray them, regardless of what he thought he was signing up for. Though it seemed cruel to deceive those who wanted to join with Osric, wisdom had to temper the eagerness for greater numbers. If someone truly wanted to enlist as an ally for the right reasons, they would agree to become a part of the group even with this bleak outlook. Osric had to know that all new recruits were utterly trustworthy. Still, he struggled slightly to maintain his composure, though this wasn’t the first time he had given this introduction.
The Well of Strands (Osric's Wand, Book Three) Page 2