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“And the men?”

“They’re waiting outside of town,” flaxen hair says.

“Good,” he grunts and then glances around to be sure none of the other patrons are paying attention. Lowering his voice he says, “He lives outside of town. I’ve kept an eye on the place for the last three days. It looks like we’ll have little trouble.”

“Thought there was a veritable army there?” tall man asks.

“There was,” he replies. “But most everyone pulled out two days ago. All that’s left there are two men and one only has one leg. There’s also a woman and a child but I doubt if they will cause us any problems.”

“Is the mage still there?” flaxen hair asks.

Nodding, the man replies, “I saw him doing some strange experiments.”

“Are you sure taking on a mage is a good idea,” the tall man asks. Usually afraid of nothing, the thought of crossing one who can wield the power makes him uneasy.

“That’s why you brought what you did,” he says. “Those who I deal with say he has a fortune there in gems. From what they’ve learned, he has a trader sell them in other towns to avoid drawing unwanted attention to himself.”

Grinning, flaxen hair asks, “Didn’t work, did it?”

“No,” replies the man with an evil grin. “This is going to be the biggest score we’ve yet made.”

“When do we go?” tall man asks.

“Tonight,” replies the man. “Once the sun goes down.”

Rising up to the sky, it floats gently upon the breeze. Finally, his vision has seen fruition as the rising object continues to gain altitude. Oh sure, he had help but this has been his project from the beginning. Delia found the material, Ezra sewed it together for him in just the right way and James added a suggestion or two that helped.

He always knew this would work, his first attempt was a month ago. Using a small sack made from the light material he managed to get it to rise a little in the air when held aloft over an open flame. When it actually lifted several feet into the air he almost broke down and cried right there. For too long he had endured the snide remarks from others who thought he was crazy. Some even here at The Ranch looked at him odd at times but James never let anyone say a word of derision to him.

Now, a month later, he’s trying something a bit more ambitious. Using a much larger balloon, he’s hoping to have it rise and stay afloat for a much longer time. The balloon has now floated to the treetops and is becoming dangerously close to being entangled in the upper reaches of a tall pine. “Move…come on,” he says as the balloon comes ever closer to the branches. “Rise damn you!” he practically yells just before the edge snags a branch. The balloon lurches to the side and starts deflating.

“Damn!” he yells.

“Not working?” a voice asks from nearby.

Turning, he finds Fifer there walking toward him. Leaning upon a crutch, he hobbles as best he can. Actually, he can get around pretty good with it and even has begun practicing with his sword, though isn’t nearly as good as he once was. He lost his leg on the journey to Ironhold last Fall.

“The wind keeps taking it into the trees,” he says. “Have to find some way to make it rise faster.”

“I’m sure you’ll make it work,” Fifer says. “Oh, your wife said to tell you dinner is almost ready.”

“Thanks,” Roland replies. “I just need to get it down before I return. Tell her I will be a few minutes.”

“Sure thing,” he assures him. Turning his back on Roland, Fifer begins making his way back across the clearing. He grins to himself when he recalls how this clearing came to be.

It was early last winter, shortly after their return from Ironhold. James had been out here working on some experiment or another and had laid waste to a swathe of the forest. By the time the fires died out, almost forty acres had burned. In the middle of the ashes was a clearing several hundred feet across devoid of anything living.

James had come out of it looking the worse for wear. Most of his hair had been singed and he said if he hadn’t erected a shield in time, he wouldn’t have lived to tell about it. When asked,