by Tom Larcombe
When everyone had turned to look at him, he continued.
“I thought we might go down to the lake again this afternoon. I've got a couple of fishing rods, and maybe we can catch some dinner. If more people want to fish I can make up some old style poles for them as well.”
Rynn glanced at him and nodded her head.
“I'll take you up on that,” Bobby said.
Eugene raised his hand also.
Randall and Sean looked to Rynn.
“Go ahead if you want,” she said.
“We'll go,” the two chorused in unison.
“Girls?” Michael asked.
Cindy shook her head, but Andi looked at Eugene for a moment.
“I'll go,” Andi said. “But I might just go swimming instead of fishing, if that's okay.”
“Sure,” Michael said.
“Then I'll go too,” Cindy added.
“We'll leave a little bit after lunch time,” Michael said.
He stood and headed upstairs with Rynn following several minutes later.
“That should give me a nice, long, distraction-free chance to take care of the divination,” she said.
“That and we can fish for dinner if we're lucky at all. Even with the garden producing a surplus, it'll be good to have some variety. I imagine we'll find a lot of other people fishing down there also. Before long it'll be tough to find a fish in the lake, but in the meanwhile we should take advantage of it.”
“I hadn't thought of that.”
“They'll come back, the fish that is. But probably not until the fishing pressure on the lake eases, which means when people have other sources of food.”
She nodded.
“Weren't you working on that also?”
“Yes, I'm going to take seeds down to the gardening class I give at the church. I'll leave them with Father Anderson and anyone who wants some can claim them. I'm hoping the fae spread out enough that everyone's gardens get a boost to one degree or another.”
“That's why you wanted me to keep making the small nightlights?” Rynn asked.
“Partly. The fae can spread and survive with those, but I wanted to make sure people had some sort of light. Even the ones with lanterns or candles would run out soon enough. And, to be honest, them seeing lights on up here at night and not having their own could turn out bad. Less chance of that if they know they'll get their own eventually.”
“Enlightened self-interest? I thought you'd matured; now I'm sure of it.”
Rynn chuckled as she turned and went back downstairs to the students.
* * *
After lunch Michael led the troop of students, Bobby, and Jeff down to the lake. He'd ended up making five of the old stick and string style poles which the younger boys distributed among themselves, leaving the spare on the ground. Michael and Bobby had the actual fishing poles and started by simply casting out into the lake.
There have to be at least thirty other people I can see fishing here, Michael thought. And who knows how many more are fishing on the streams leading out of the lake.
Michael's thoughts wandered as he cast his rod. After a few minutes he decided that this was a chance to practice his Water Magic also. He sent a fragment of consciousness out into the lake and was amazed when he realized he could actually tell exactly where the fish were.
“Hey Bobby, try a few casts in front of those reeds over there,” Michael said, pointing.
On the third cast Bobby got a hit.
Michael continued to explore underwater with his probe.
“Hey Eugene, take the other boys down the shore a bit. Try right to either side of the tree that fell into the water down there,” Michael said.
Eugene looked at him curiously. Michael winked and nodded. The boy shrugged and led the others down to where Michael had said. Within fifteen minutes the first of them had pulled a fish out of the lake.
Michael relaxed and kept casting in random directions. By this point he was enjoying sending his probe out into the lake more than he was the fishing, but he did occasionally suggest a place for Bobby to cast when he spotted some of the better types of fish.
After a couple of hours, Michael noticed that one of the other fishermen on the lake was headed his way.
“Bill, good to see you,” Michael said. “How's the fishing?”
“I got a few, enough for a couple of meals. I thought that was you over here. Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“You be willing to take some more .30-06 ammo for a few of those lights you've been making?”
“How'd you find out I was the one providing those?”
“McCallister told me. I went to get some milk from him because my daughter showed up at my place with my grandchildren. I saw his lights charging and asked about them.”
“I can give you some of the smaller ones for free. I don't have any of the larger ones made up right now. Or you can get some from Father Anderson. I've been giving all the small ones I can make to him to distribute to people with children.”
“Well, I don't hold stock with charity if I can manage something on my own. I prefer to take care of things myself. So I'll gladly trade you some more ammo for a few of those nightlights. My grandkids are having a hell of a time sleeping. Evidently they saw some really nasty things on the way here.”
“Sure, if you're going to be here a bit longer you can come up with me when we're done. I'll give you some of the crystal nightlights then. You can get the ammo to me whenever, I haven't even used up the stuff I bought from you yet.”
“I'll do that,” Bill said. “But I'll get the ammo to you tomorrow, no later.”
“Hey Bill, I think I just saw a trout surface right over there,” Michael said pointing. “Give it a shot.”
Bill's cast landed right in the center of a small group of lake trout Michael had spotted with his probe. Seconds after it landed Bill had a fish on his hook. Michael smiled to himself.
I wonder if there's a way to get the fish to breed faster, Michael thought. Maybe I'll ask Gerry about that.
* * *
After another hour of fishing Michael decided that Rynn should have had enough time for her divination spell. He collected everyone who'd come down with him and Bill, then headed back to the house.
When they got close, he saw Rynn sitting on the back porch, working on the smaller crystals. He also saw Calvin hopping along the ground out of sight of Rynn.
“Psst, everyone hold up a second. This should be good for a laugh.”
He pointed out Calvin's slow, hopping approach to the railing where Rynn was placing the finished crystals. Rynn finished another one and leaned forward, placing the crystal on the rail. Calvin froze when she did, but as soon as she sat back down he took off in a burst of wings, snatching the crystal she'd just set down in his beak and flying off.
Michael chuckled and led them all up to the porch.
“Rynn, this is Bill. He wants to get a few of the nightlights we've been producing for his grandchildren.”
“Help yourself,” Rynn said, gesturing to the finished ones lying on the rail in the sun. “I've just been laying them in the sun to charge.”
“Thank you Miss, I will. But I'll be paying for them. I offered Michael some more ammunition for them.”
“He's going to give us some more .30-06,” Michael said.
“Great, I love those Garands,” Rynn replied. “But you can never have enough ammo.”
Bill grinned.
“I couldn't have said it better myself Miss Rynn.”
“Bill was it?” Rynn asked. “You wouldn't happen to have any .45 ACP or .38 would you? We've got a couple of handguns that don't have nearly enough ammo.”
“I might have a bit of those set aside, but...”
“Did you see the lights at the church and the police station?” Michael asked.
“I saw the ones at the station,” Bill said.
“If it's price you're worried about. How about we make you a light like
one of those? Would that be worth some handgun ammo?”
Bill's eyes lit up with interest.
“I could probably part with a hundred rounds for something like that,” he said.
Rynn's eyes gleamed and she rubbed her hands together when she decided that he was trying to haggle.
“I don't know Michael,” she said. “You know how long it takes to make those, and we don't have a lot of crystals that size left. I think we should probably save those for something more important, don't you?”
In the end, after fifteen minutes of haggling, Rynn extracted a promise of one hundred and fifty rounds of ammo, in each caliber she'd specified, for the light. For their part, they promised to have the light ready by late the following afternoon when Bill would come up with the ammunition.
He left with eight of the small nightlights for now and both he and Michael seemed happy with the deal.
“You went too soft on him Michael,” Rynn said. “We could've gotten more for the bigger light.”
“He's a friend Rynn. I'm sure we could've gotten more, but I'd prefer to keep him as a friend.”
“We may need that ammunition soon though.”
“What? Why?”
“I've been keeping an eye on those raiders I spotted to the east. You remember they headed north right after that? Well, now they've turned again and are working southwest on the roads.
Michael sighed.
“How far away are they?” he asked.
“Well, they headed north for a few days so now they're about fifty miles away. They don't have any roads that lead here directly, but they're definitely heading south and west whenever possible.”
“If they want to stay on the roads all the way, they'll have to come through Las Animas. We probably ought to warn them. I don't know how well they're doing, but the last time I talked to the sheriff he said that there were still some police trying to keep order up there despite the riots.”
“Is that the only road leading here?”
“It is from the north at least,” Michael said. “I'll tell Dan and see if he can get word to them somehow.”
“Tell him they'll probably get there within a week, closer to four or five days if they keep moving at their current speed.”
“I'll do that tonight when I drop off the produce with Father Anderson,” Michael said. “I'm guessing that your divination worked so you had some extra time to check on the raiders?”
Rynn nodded.
“As well as it ever does,” she said.
Michael waited impatiently, finally waggling his fingers in a 'come on' gesture.
“The divination answered with a vision, or rather a pair of them,” she said slowly. “The first one looked to be a battle, probably WWII. There was a massive stretch of trenches with men firing at one another from inside of them. It faded out and was replaced with what looked like your mine office out back.”
“That's it?” Michael asked.
“I think it was you who mentioned how much you hated divination? At least this one used appropriate images since we think the cache contains WWII surplus items and is part of the mine. I haven't even started trying to decipher it yet.”
“What do you think offhand?”
“I don't. The only connections I made right off were the ones I just mentioned. I was actually surprised that the images were so pertinent to the question.”
“Alright, well it's probably an easier result than some of the riddles I've heard of resulting from divination. Let me know if you make any progress on it.”
* * *
* * *
Chapter 2
I'm going to go see what Gerry has to say about talking to Calvin, Michael thought. I bet there's all kinds of things he could do if he were willing, but I need to be able to communicate them to him.
Michael walked out to the strawberry patch where Gerry had taken up residence.
“Gerry?” he called.
The small fae flew up out of the berry plants.
“Yes wizard?”
“You mentioned before that I should talk to Calvin. I don't know how to do that though. I thought you might be willing to instruct me on how to do so?”
“Certainly, but you must do something for me first. No debt is to be involved, it must be an even exchange. I would like for you to make more areas suitable for my people. They are still arriving and even with the other areas you've seeded for us, more room would be preferable.”
Michael thought furiously.
I wonder if they'd like an area that's a little more wild. I could kill two birds with one stone that way.
“Do you have a preference for what type of area?” he asked. “I was thinking perhaps something with fewer people around, in case some of the fae would prefer such.”
“That might do, is there somewhere you have in mind?”
Michael gestured to the area of plains out beyond the cliff and mine. It was an area he'd seeded with lots of wild grains since the crows loved them. If the fae were living there and accelerating the plant growth as they did to his garden there would be enough grain for the crows as well as some to harvest for people.
“This area. I use it to grow wild grains for Calvin and his friends. There are about four acres there. I could place enough crystals out there, ones not designed to glow at night but just to give off the energy they store slowly, that they would blanket the area. I don't want to do that if your people won't use that energy, just having it lying around could be dangerous, but if it's an area that's attractive, then I'll do so for you.”
Gerry was silent for a moment, the sound of her rapidly fluttering wings the only thing Michael heard.
“That will do well. Do not do all of it at once though. As you say, having the energy unused could be a problem. Can you start with half of the area? The rest is not a debt, just a service specified for a later date.”
“I'll do that. It might be a day or two before I can get to it though. I seem to have many more responsibilities now than I once did.”
“Better you than I,” Gerry said before disappearing back into the berry patch.
Michael returned to the house.
If I get Jeff and some of the older students to help me harvest, then I'll have the spare time to stop by Dan's office before I come back here, he thought.
“Jeff?” he called, once he was inside.
He heard the sound of feet tramping up the stairs from the basement.
“Yeah?” Jeff said.
“Two things. The first is that a lot of your garden is ready to harvest. All the early yield stuff is ready. The second is that I need some help harvesting my own and I was hoping you'd be willing.”
“Sure, let me finish up the card game I was playing first? Should only be five or ten minutes.”
“Who are you playing with?”
“Me and Cindy are playing against Eugene and Andi. Close game so far.”
“That won't be a problem. I was going to ask them if they were willing to help also.”
He gestured to the stairs and then followed Jeff as he went down them.
Michael enlisted the help of the the three older students as well and between the five of them they managed the harvest in under an hour. He loaded up his bicycle trailer, hooked it up and headed down the hill.
* * *
“Michael,” Father Anderson said with a broad grin, “it's good to see you again.”
“I was here just yesterday Father.”
Father Anderson's grin disappeared.
“Yes, but I didn't have any questions for you then. I do now.”
“Well, help me unload first. When I'm done here I need to go talk to the sheriff, so I can't take too long answering your questions.”
Michael handed the Father a package containing twenty-five more nightlights first. After that he started unloading the food he'd brought.
Father Anderson dropped the nightlights off in his office, then returned to help unload the cart.
“Potatoes Michael
?” he asked.
“Yes, they're new potatoes. You can harvest them early by digging them up without disturbing the plant. You can get more potatoes that way.”
“I'm a gardener myself. New potatoes are never the size of my closed fist. This ties in with what I wanted to ask you about though.”
Michael tensed and looked at the Father out of the corner of his eye.
“Why is it that my own garden now has a significantly elevated growth rate?” Father Anderson asked. “Everything was normal until a few days ago when you sent me the light for my house. Immediately after that the plants went crazy.”
“I did tell you that I'd share if I figured out why mine was doing so well. I kept my promise, that's all.”
“How exactly are you managing this Michael?”
“I can't say.”
“Won't, you mean?”
“No, I made a promise that I wouldn't talk about it. Suffice it to say, it is an incredibly natural phenomenon and not anything questionable.”
Father Anderson closed his eyes and sighed.
“Would it have something to do with all the little colored lights I've been seeing at night recently?”
What the hell? Why would the fae be showing themselves to him? Michael wondered.
“I can't say, I'm sorry.”
“Ah, so perhaps leaving a bowl of milk near my back door would be a good plan? Perhaps even with a dash of Irish whiskey in it?”
Michael was familiar with the idea of leaving a bowl of milk out for the fae. The Irish whiskey was something he hadn't heard about before.
“Whiskey?” he asked.
“Yes, whiskey. Irish whiskey seems to be a favorite from what I've been told.”
“What have you been told?” Michael asked.
“I thought I was the one asking the questions,” Father Anderson said with a grin.
“Father, seriously, I didn't think you'd believe me if I told you, but now I'm starting to wonder.”
“I'll not name the little folk any more specifically, but am I on the right track here?”
Michael nodded.
“Then I know all I need to,” Father Anderson said. “I had a roommate in seminary. He was from Ireland and had grown up there. He argued up a storm when one of our teachers claimed that the little folk weren't real and that they were simply a story made up by the pagans. I heard quite a few tales from him and, eventually, had his statements confirmed by a different teacher. One with more experience in the real world.”