by P. G. Thomas
Ryan and Lauren were both smirking, and Logan was wearing a big smile, “Sorry, John, but even I understand this one.”
Chewing on his bottom lip, John stared at the gem.
Mirtza took a drink, “John, you disappoint Gayne. Was his riddle too tough? The mind that sees all now stumbles in the dark?”
“I spent the day figuring out the letter. I’m tired, so give me a break.”
“They already did, three times.”
“You too, Eric?”
He nodded in agreement.
Mirtza smiled, “My old friend, I will take pity on you. What did you show him?”
John thought back to all of his encounters with Gayne: the teaching of magic, the threats, and deceit to get his help. Then it came to him. The northern lights. I showed him magic, magic that lit up the dark sky. Magic lights. Picking up the gem-lit candlestick holder, he removed the glowing crystal. Giving it a shake, he heard a metallic sound and inverted the enchanted fixture. After unscrewing the bottom, he saw the last key that he pulled out, placing it with the others. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?” They all smiled, raising their glasses as they toasted the humbled John Ironhouse.
Steve set down his glass, “I’m sorry, John, I barely know you, but that was funny. So what was the last part of the message?”
“Two more riddles remain, but John Ironhouse would not need clues.” With the third small bottle now opened, he filled his glass, “I guess there’s still one chance left for me to redeem my legendary status.”
Lauren smiled, “Don’t be afraid to ask for help, Earth Mother.”
“Don’t even think of saying it,” advised Logan.
“Bastards, you’re all bastards,” and then John turned to Mirtza, “except for you.”
Then there was a knock at the door, and Mirtza stood, “Lady Danex is here.”
While late in the evening, Lauren walked him to the door where they exchanged their simple yet secret knock.
“I am so pleased you are here. I would like to introduce you to some of my old friends.” Then he walked her to the dining room, “I would like to introduce you to Eric, Lauren, her husband Ryan, her brother Logan, and my good friend John, John Ironhouse.”
In unison they all sighed, realizing much like the Master Weapon Smith of Ironhouse, Mirtza’s mind was also beginning to wander.
Danex walked him to the front room and returned to the group, “I worry about him.”
“Why are you here?” asked John.
“The plate. Did you not you put it in the window?”
He shook his head.
“It is happening more frequently. He forgets where he is, what he is doing. I am sorry to have bothered you.”
“Wait,” replied John, “I would like to go and see the Bright Coast. Can you help us?”
Danex raised her hand to her mouth, “The Bright Coast is not a safe place anymore, even in the day. Are you sure?”
John nodded, “I—we need to see what is happening.”
“I can arrange a carriage, but you will need more than a guide, you will also need an armed escort. It is expensive, everything is. If it were not for my garden and the few animals that I keep, I would have been broke and destitute long ago, and I have not been into the actual city in years.”
John stood, pulled out his Leatherman tool, and then removed his metal belt. After taking out the screws that held the buckle in place, he extracted a long thin gold chain. “I only wish I had a bigger waist.” Everybody was looking at him, “Even though nobody ever said it aloud, we all had nightmares about ending up back here. I made some apps, did some programming, and had this made up. I even slept with it for the first couple of years. Those nightmares were finally going away and now, sons of bitches—” He walked the gold chain over to Danex, “How much gold will we need for the carriage and escort?”
As John attached his buckle, she examined it. Holding her fingers eight inches apart, John used the Leatherman tool to cut off the same amount.
“I will make the arrangements for tomorrow.”
John walked Danex to the door, but before leaving, she advised him of two things. “Gayne told me all of your stories, so I know who you are and what you did, but you cannot wear those clothes into the Bright Coast, as people will talk.”
When he returned to the group, Lauren was glaring at him, “Why didn’t you ever tell us this could happen again?”
“I didn’t know.” He was looking at the floor, running the remaining gold chain through his hands. “I never believed it would happen. It just gave me a sense of comfort that, if it did, then I would be prepared, like carrying my Leatherman tool. I never wanted to come back here, and even if I did, I wouldn’t want to be here under these circumstances.”
Her anger was building, “What were the odds?”
“There’s no way to calculate them, as there are just too many factors to even guess.”
Shaking her head, she left the room with Ryan following her up the stairs.
Logan advised them that he was going to the patio to look for Sister.
“She just went up the stairs,” Steve called out.
He raised a single finger to him, which was the middle one.
“I still have your back,” Eric said turning to John. “If you thought we were in danger, I know that you would’ve told us.” He then picked up Mirtza who had fallen asleep and took him upstairs.
*******
Steve had been asleep on the floor when he heard a noise from the patio. Without realizing it, he stood, grabbing a chair to steady himself. Using it to stabilize his walk, he headed outside, “Can’t sleep?”
Ryan turned around, “I probably could, but I’m waiting for something.”
“What?”
“Magic. I charge better at night.”
“Your wife, Lauren? Is she doing better?”
“She smiled tonight, outwitted John, which helps. When she’s alone or with me, the brave front vanishes. Then she’s a little girl in my arms, crying, and I don’t like it when that happens because it rips me apart.” Ryan pointed to the lights of the Bright Coast. “Our daughters are down there somewhere, and I want them back. To do that, I’ll need my magic because right now, my rage meter is off the scale. When Lauren and I became a couple, for the first time I felt whole. Each day I have grown to love her more, and with the birth of our daughters, I finally felt whole and was the happiest man in the world. Now my babies are missing, causing my wife to cry herself to sleep every night, and I can’t do a damned thing about it. If I’m going to find my daughters and make somebody pay, I’ll need my magic.”
“Don’t get me wrong since this is all new to me. I know this isn’t an act, and that everything is actually happening, but is that the right way to be thinking. I mean, if you get caught, won’t the law in this world do something about it?”
“No jail cell here could hold me.”
“And it’s because of the titanium in you?”
“That’s what John figures, but I never understood it. When Lauren was in danger or trouble, it fed my rage.”
“When we first arrived, John asked about my implants. Why?”
“I don’t know. You would have to ask him. Anyways, look at you. You’re walking already because this world has healed you. The magic will come, and I’ll fill my cup. Now please leave me alone because I don’t feel like talking anymore.”
“If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.”
“Just don’t get in my way. I don’t know you, and you don’t mean anything to me.”
Going back into the front room, Steve sat down on the couch. What the hell’s happening? Feeling confident that Ryan would remain outside, he reached down to his right ankle undoing the snap, removing the holstered snub nose revolver, which he stuffed into his wrinkled coat jacket. Laying down on the floor for the additional back support, he stared into the darkness wondering what would happen next.
Chapter 5
Stumbling
out of bed the next morning, John headed down to the washroom. Gayne’s house still had functioning plumbing, and as the hot water eroded his frustrations, he thought about the letter. Two more riddles and no clues. Then it occurred to him that Pintar had used a fireplace to create hot water, but they had never once stoked any fireplace for the same effect. He remembered seeing the rain collection tubs on the various roofs, but he was uncertain of what magic Gayne had used to create the pleasurable warm liquid without fire. Climbing out of the shower after twenty minutes, he shook the dust off a towel before drying off. The smell of hot bean juice drifted up the stairs as he walked down them, and he found Lauren in the kitchen, her face once again tear-stained.
“I’m going to apologize right now for every mean thing that I say until we find my daughters. So please pass it along to the others, but I need to know what we’re doing next. I need answers!”
Understanding her anger, he was unable to imagine what hell she was going through. “We have to find what Gayne left us, but first, we’re going into the Bright Coast today. Right now, that’s all I have, and as it changes, I’ll let you know.”
“Okay. As long as you have some answers, but there are three words that I never want to hear from you, and as long as I don’t, I’ll do my best to do—whatever it is I have to do.”
Grabbing a mug of hot bean juice, he began to wander throughout the house. The upstairs had five bedrooms and two bathrooms, and since Mirtza was sleeping in Gayne’s room, he would wait until later in the day to examine it. On the right side of the ground floor, there were three rooms: the large dusty museum in the front, the once elegant dining hall in the middle, and the kitchen in the back. At the front left side of the house was a sparse office, having nothing more than a desk and a few chairs. The next looked like a small classroom: four rows of bench seats with desks and a chalkboard at the front. The last was a study with shelves on the interior walls, stuffed with dusty books, odd antiquities, and strange objects. If I was going to hide something that needed six keys, it has to be a safe or a door. Going back out into the corridor, he paced the length of the house, marking where the first two rooms ended. After pacing off the remainder, adding the numbers together, the study was the right length, which meant there were no secret rooms in between. Going down to the basement, he could find no evidence of any hidden doors in the rock walls of the wine cellar or the room that contained the machine, which had a large set of stairs that led to the outside. Most likely a renovation so Gayne could bring the machine in. With no obvious secret rooms present, he went back upstairs. Whatever it is, it must be a prized possession, and if it were me, I would want it close, accessible. That leaves the study or the bedroom. Entering the first, he sat down in the dusty chair behind the desk and examined the room, but only bookshelves and windows were present. Opening up the drawers, he suddenly stopped and wiped the dust off of the desk, which was Hoyle’s from Alron. The rest of Hoyle’s house was sparse, but his office furniture was expensive, being all made by craftsmen, and he remembered seeing it at Gayne’s house in Alron after the auction. Did he drag this back from there? This is where he keeps his treasures, so it has to be in here. Walking around the room, he left a trail in the thick dust on the floor. Not even Mirtza has been in here. Where would I hide something, especially if I didn’t want anybody to find it? In plain sight! Not much help there, John. Maybe I should get Logan. After wandering around the room for an hour, looking for clues, in frustration, he headed back to the kitchen. With Logan being present, he asked him to collect the necessary clothes for them so that they could make the trip into the Bright Coast.
Raising himself up, Steve grabbed the cart, using it to stabilize his walk into the kitchen, “What’re you doing, Kid?”
John was not surprised to see him standing, as his injuries were less severe than Ryan’s were the first time. “Are you starting to believe me now?”
“Even though the jury is still deliberating, I don’t know if they’re going to call a mistrial or return a not guilty vote.”
“Well, since you’re mobile, do you want to put your detective skills to work?”
“You find a body?”
“Gayne hid something in this house that he wants me to find. I’ve been over every inch of it, except for his bedroom, and I think whatever it is, is in the study.”
Steve started to push the cart in the desired direction.
“You don’t need it. The faster you force your body to walk on its own, the quicker it’ll heal.”
Steadying himself, Steve slowly shuffled into the study, “Crap, did you run a marathon in here?”
“I paced off the house, and this room is the right length and width, so I know that there’s nothing behind the walls. Plus, that desk is one of his prized possessions that he dragged across this country. This was his sanctuary, his man-cave. The other rooms have different functions: greeting, teaching, entertaining, and such. However, this is where he came to think, so if he had prized possessions, he would hide them in here. If somebody ever broke in, he would want to make sure those valuables were secure. There are no pictures to hide a safe behind, and I can’t find a bookshelf that opens up. Even if there was one, the walls are too thin to hide anything. Where would you hide something, if you didn’t want anybody to find it?”
“In plain sight.”
“That’s what I thought. Gayne wasn’t stupid, and he knew magic. They figured out how to turn a gold broach into a wagon, and by using a platinum ring, they could make it full sized or small. If he used magic, it could be in any one of these books, or it could be anything. The only thing I know is six keys are required to open it.”
Shaking his head, Steve scanned the room where years of dust hid any clues. There were no scrapes along the floor where unsuspecting grit may have left a telltale sign. All of the books looked like they had similarly cracked bindings, and there was nothing unusual about the floor or ceiling. “What about that magical lamp thing that held the last key? Could Gayne have marked something?”
“It’s worth a try, I’ll get it, but can you close the drapes.”
Walking around the room, not only did Steve’s stride increase but as well, the discomfort decreased.
Upon returning, John started to pace the room again, but he was unable to see any secret marks illuminated. “It has to be here.” Frustrated, setting down the light source, he pulled out the green glasses, “Maybe there’s another message in here.” With the glasses on, holding the enchanted light, he slowly turned around the room. Looking at the closed door, he stopped and walked closer to it, “Bastard.”
“What?” asked Steve.
He handed him the glasses, “Look at the door.”
“Welcome back John. What does it mean?”
“Not sure.” Tucking the green glasses back into a pocket, John replaced his regular ones as he walked up to the door and began rubbing his hands across the smooth surface. “I don’t feel any locks. You give it a try.”
Steve did the same, “Nothing.”
Pulling out his Leatherman tool, John scraped away some paint to expose a gold surface and turned to Steve. “Long story short; I believe those three suns emit a particular type of radiation, becoming magic when they mix. The gravitational effects pull it down from the stratosphere, and it enters this world. There are two types; let’s call them light and heavy. The heavy magic falls to the ground quicker, which over the years, melds with the geology, specifically gold and platinum. Gayne found out that if they created certain shapes, attaching them to a host, the magical properties of the gold would interpret their desires to replicate the object. When a platinum ring came within close proximity to a piece of spelled gold, it would morph into the intended shape, functioning like its original host, but all of the objects they made were small. In fact, you could carry them in your pocket. They never talked about making anything full sized.”
“Slow down Einstein and take a breath. You have to remember that I’m the new kid on the block.”
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br /> “The door is gold and gold is magic.”
“So activate it.”
Going back to the kitchen, John retrieved the platinum ring that was beside the enchanted food box. Upon entering, he waved his hand at the door, but nothing happened. “That doesn’t make sense since platinum is the catalyst.”
“Maybe this Gayne character found a new trigger. If others knew about the platinum ring, they could open the door. Maybe he figured out a way to change it up. Try using the glasses with the green crystals because they have a platinum frame.”
John removed them from his pocket to inspect.
“You know I’m a detective, right? I get paid to notice little things like that.”
Waving the glasses, a depression about twelve inches long by three inches high formed in the center of the door, which exposed six keyholes.
“No idea how Gayne figured out this one. They must have put a gold door on a regular one, waiting for it to realize that it was supposed to provide access to a room.” Opening the study door, John went back to the dining room to retrieve the keys, which he placed on a bookshelf. “I guess this is the last riddle.” Picking up the shortest key, he placed it in the first hole, which fit. Pulling it out, he replaced it with the longest, which also fit. He turned to Steve, “Size isn’t the sequence.”
“Alphabetical, the number of letters in your names, your heights. What’s the right order?”
“Those would all be too easy. If you didn’t know the full story, instead, just tried randomly, there are over 46,000 possible combinations. My biggest fear; if the first attempt is wrong, it breaks the keys.”
The excitement had Steve inspired, “Then what is it?”
“I think it’s chronological, as the events happened.” John picked up the key with Eric’s name, “Gayne wasn’t with us at Ironhouse, but he knew about the armor,” and then slid the key into the first slot. “He saw the mountain eagles, and he heard the stories about Logan, which was the second event.” John inserted the next key, “He was there when Ryan was raging.” Then added the third key, followed by his, Zack’s, and then Lauren’s. He turned to Steve, “It can’t be anything else, can it?”