A Mage's Power (Journey to Chaos) by Brian Wilkerson Read Free Book Online

'steward'?!”
    Gears clanked as the drawbridge slowly fell. Behind it was a
gate and behind that was a portcullis. Even after human and hawk crossed them
all, they had to wait in a kill zone while a second layer opened. When they
finally passed the fortifications, all of them slammed shut.
    “You're an Otherworlder, not an alien,” Redstreak said. “And
he called me a steward because that's what I am. I'm in charge of the Rose
Forest. I'm the one they talk to if there's a problem, like someone brought by
the Fire Bringer.”
    A man in armor approached the pair. Eric presumed him to be
some figure of authority since both were polished to a shine and trimmed with
gold.
    “I am Lord Radic of Tinsopi, First Division of the Ataidar
Royal Guard. Currently in command of the North Gate and Surrounding Lands. I
welcome you to Roalt, capital of Ataidar.”
    “I . . . uh . . . um. I am . . . uh,” Eric stuttered. Redstreak
sighed and hawed.
    “Chief Redstreak, it is not polite to speak when not
everyone present can understand you.”
    Redstreak glared briefly. “He's Eric Watley and he says the
Fire Bringer brought him here.”
    Radic's eyes shot open.“The Ambivalent Saboteur?”
Redstreak nodded.
    “Is Tasio an important person here?” Eric asked.
    “Don't say his name!” Radic shouted and Eric cowered. “My
apologies, Mr. Watley. The Trickster is a bringer of mischief. It all started
when he showed us how to make fire; he told us it made our lives better, but
also put our lives in danger. What kind of fire are you, Otherworlder?”
    Eric's mouth opened, but no words came out.
    “Easy, Radic. I think you broke his brain.”
    “My apologies, Mr. Watley.” Radic bowed his head. “However,
it is important to track the actions of such a figure.”
    “Oh, um . . . uh . . . okay . . .”
    “Radic, I turn him over to you.” Redstreak spread his wings.
    “Just a moment, Chief Redstreak.” Redstreak looked over his
shoulder, wings still spread. “I don't think Old Grey would appreciate you
leaving him at the gate.” Radic was grinning.
      Are they friends?
    “I escorted him out of my domain,” Redstreak argued. “As
chief, I am not required to do more.”
    “Of course not—for Tariatlans. Our friend Mr. Watley is not
a Tariatlan, and so has no home,” Radic countered. “My city is no different to
him than your forest. Your escort is not over yet.” Redstreak dropped his
wings. “You know where to go, right?”
    “Yes . . .I do . . .Come on . . .Eric.” Redstreak raised his
wings and took off again.
    “Don't worry about Redstreak. He needs to get out more
often.” Radic said. “Now go after him or he'll leave you behind.”
    Grudgingly, Redstreak led Eric into the city. The area
behind the gate was cleared and empty ground. There was nothing but the
gatehouse and a building that looked like barracks. It was a bleak place. Three
blocks away was the city proper and multi-story buildings stood on either side
of the street. They had glass windows, which puzzled Eric. Glass was too
expensive in the medieval era for commoner use.
     Further in, he heard a host of different voices and smelled
a great many scents: alley cats, domestic activity, and people shouting “BUNGO'S
BURRITOS!” The last group was pushing carts. A residential area . . .that
would make these guys door salesmen.
    Redstreak glided into an area bustling with activity. Stalls
and shops lined the streets and adults walked from one to the other. Children
played by evenly placed trees. Everywhere he looked, people were making a
living. What surprised him was that not all of these people were human.
Centaurs haggled over the price of apples, goblins shouted the daily specials
of their bakery, giants heaved bushels, and reptilian humanoids blew glass. All
of them roamed the market; shopping, talking and living.
    “Where'd all these creatures come from?” Eric asked his
reluctant guide.
    “Creatures? Oh yeah, ignorant Otherworlder.