The Mists of Sorrow_ Book Seven of the Morcyth Saga - Brian S. Pratt [79]
“That settles it,” announces Stig when the cloth rises.
“Yes it does,” agrees James. Turning to Jiron he says, “He’s not there.”
Disappointed, Jiron nods. “Let’s get going,” he says.
Putting the cloth back in his pouch, James indicates for Reilin to take the lead as they continue along the road to the south. To their right sits the lake, Tears of the Empress. A beautiful lake, its water glistens in the sun. Many boats of varying shapes and sizes are out upon her waters.
They follow the road south along the shore of the lake for an hour until they reach a crossroad. Taking the right fork, they continue to follow the shoreline until they reach its southernmost point. There the road turns and for a brief distance goes due west until it comes to where the waters flow from the lake into a sizeable river. At that point, the road turns from due west and follows the river on a more southwesterly course.
Not too far from where the road begins to follow the river, they come to another bridge that has been destroyed. Again as in the previous ones they came across on their way down, this one too is in the midst of reconstruction. Two of the makeshift wooden bridges span the river here.
“We didn’t come this far south,” states Stig.
“No, you didn’t,” affirms James.
“One of your wagons?” asks Jiron in a whisper.
“It had to have been,” he replies. Other than Jiron, he hadn’t told anyone else about what he did with the wagon and wanted to keep it that way. After splitting off with Illan, he had planted seeds of magic in the beds of various wagons in many caravans they had passed. The seeds were to accumulate magic and then explode when they crossed over bridges. It looked as if one had.
“Then how did this happen?” Stig asks. Glancing to James he adds, “You do this?”
“Yes and that’s all I will say about it,” he replies. The last thing he wants is to have word spread about what he does with magic. An idea of what is possible could lead others in the magic business into embarking upon acts that could have serious repercussions.
The others take his lack of explanation with equanimity. They have been with him long enough to trust that what he does is for a reason and usually a good one.
Not too far past the ruined bridge they decide to stop for the night. It’s been a long day and the time spent on the road is beginning to wear on them. Before the light fades completely, James again tries to get Tinok in his mirror but to the extreme frustration of Jiron, comes up with nothing. “How far away is he?” he asks when James tells him of the results.
“I don’t know,” replies James as he puts away his mirror. “I’ll try again in the morning.”
Practically stomping in frustration back to where he and Aleya have their blankets laid out, he fumes over James’ inability to find him.
Sighing, James feels bad for his friend and would do more if he could. Though he’s been able to do some pretty amazing things, he’s not all powerful. He goes over to where Shorty has pulled cooking duty and gets a plate of what he calls stew. Not very good but at least it’s hot and filling.
Once they finish eating, they turn in for the night. As James lays there under the stars he gazes up at the full moon above them. He can’t help but think that time is running out and running out fast. Trying to put his worries aside, he eventually calms his mind sufficiently to fall asleep.
No sooner does James awaken the next morning than Jiron is bugging him to look for Tinok. Making him wait until he answers nature’s call, he then gets settled on the ground with the mirror held in his lap. Concentrating hard, he visualizes Tinok and sends forth the magic. Nothing. Giving more magic to