Gemworld by Jeremy Bullard Read Free Book Online Page A

mournfully. Turning, he found Retzu already grabbing up bowls. With Sal’s stomach already lurching in anticipation, he wondered how Retzu could be so eager to swallow such foul gunk.
    Conversation that night was casual, if muted, full of stories about old friends and past conquests. Even Reit joined in, to Sal’s relief. It was just like Retzu said—the brooding young man was back to his “cheery” self. If he had offended Reit, the guy seemed to have gotten over it pretty quickly. Sal was content to listen as the trio spun their yarns, joining in only when necessary, and even then keeping his stories vague.
    Through an effort of sheer will, Sal held back from asking questions about their world. He needed them a lot more than they needed him at this point, and he didn’t want to risk their hospitality by letting it slip that he was from another world. True or not, he thought the prospect insane enough without giving his new friends a reason to agree with him, and possibly dump him because of it. So he just sat back and soaked in what meager details he could without digging for more.
    It wasn’t that he didn’t understand the culture; that part was easy. This Schel Veylin—”It means ‘City of the Vale’,” Jaren had said when Sal gave him a puzzled look—was a feudal society. The people were allowed access to only the most basic technology and education, and lived in an almost medieval state, an obvious tactic to keep the populace subservient. If he had to guess, he’d say that he’d been transported back to the days just before the European Renaissance—with winged horses, of course. But as bizarre as that idea was, it did have its advantages. It meant that he was quite possibly the smartest man alive, and that had to count for something.
    Again, Jaren ordered Sal to bed early in the night, and again sleep took him quickly, his friends standing guard over him long into the night. Or so it had seemed.
    In the small hours of the morning, Sal woke to an insistent voice, urging him softly awake. He blearily opened his eye to find a pair of dimly glowing orbs staring back down at him through the darkness. All thoughts of sleep were banished by three words.
    “Can you run?”
    Sal quickly—and quietly—got to his feet. Standing, he was able to make out three shapes, ill-defined in the darkness. Jaren’s emerald eyes flared brilliantly, and Sal felt the strangest sensation, as if his entire body was covered with crawling, biting fleas. Reaching up, Jaren tugged the bandages from Sal’s face. He blinked as his once maimed eye adjusted to the light of Jaren’s eyes, then to twilight once again as the mage stopped doing... whatever it was he was doing. As his eyes dimmed, so did the itching sensation, only to be replaced with a feeling of energy and strength that he hadn’t felt since finding himself in that prison cell.
    Before he could ponder this further, Reit stepped close to him and whispered in his ear. “We may need you to fight,” he said by way of explanation. Somehow it didn’t sound like a request. Sal nodded reflexively, and then wondered if his friend had even seen it.
    The foursome made their way to the bars, where another pair of green orbs blazed from outside the cell, sizing up one of the bars. Three more emerald mages were spaced out around the courtyard, each peering into the darkness before them.
    The man examining the bar finally grasped it, pulling it away with a rusty snap, and then turned to one of the adjacent bars. Jaren stepped up and took hold of the other, his eyes catching fire as his hands touched the metal.
    “Magic,” Sal croaked, watching in breathless horror as the mages went about their work. Remembering the itching sensation, his skin began to crawl again, but for a very different reason. “ Real magic! I thought you were talking some kinda third world superstitious mumbo jumbo, not the real thing! Whatcha gonna do next... summon us up a couple demons to take care of