Gemworld by Jeremy Bullard Read Free Book Online Page B

the guards?”
    Jaren spat an oath. He turned quickly, grabbing Sal by the shredded lapels of his Navy SEALs uniform and pulled him close, flaming green orbs boring mercilessly into natural. “You have some serious misconceptions about magic, my friend. Demons ?!? Only a fool dabbles in the things of the Abyss!” With obvious effort, Jaren released him and turned back to the bars, his eyes flaring as he took hold of the nearest one. Touchy, to say the least, Sal thought. But by the look of the mage on the other side of the cage, Sal could tell that Jaren had let him off easy. The other guy looked like he wanted to tear Sal apart.
    “Well, then, how do you explain what you’re doing?” he asked, suddenly unsure of himself.
    Still offended, Jaren spoke through clenched teeth. “By virtue of the power vested in my soulgem, Emerald, I am wielding the natural forces of this world. I am manipulating the vitality in this metal bar, accelerating the natural aging process to the point where the metal weakens and fails. There is absolutely nothing spiritual about it. And I’ll thank you to remember that! Mysticism—what you seem to mistake for magic—is expressly forbidden by the Prophets, named as unnatural and an abomination in the sight of the Crafter.” With a quick turn of the wrist, he snapped his bar, and turned back to face Sal. The menacing look was gone from his face, replaced by a stony resolve. “Don’t ever let me hear you utter such blasphemy in my presence again. Ever.”
    Magic , natural? That ’ s a new one. Wonder what Chaplain Mathis back home would have to say about that.
    The inmates behind them continued to snore, apparently thanks to the other three mages spaced out along the bars. “Manipulating the natural sleep process?” Sal speculated. Jaren glanced askance at Sal, then gave a curt nod of confirmation. He may have got that one right, but the idea of magic still didn’t seem real to him.
    “The guards?” Sal prompted, by way of changing the subject.
    “We’ve got another emerald covering the guard shack,” the mage outside the cell said softly as he snapped his bar. His voice was barely warmer than Jaren’s.
    “Just one, Tavin?” Reit questioned as he stepped through to freedom.
    “Resources were committed elsewhere, el ’ Yatza ,” the mage said apologetically, bowing slightly as Reit straightened before him. “I had only four others at my disposal that could be here in time.”
    Retzu stepped out next, followed by Sal. As Jaren stepped through, Tavin dropped to one knee, bowing his head in respect. Sal noted the greater deference to Jaren instead of Reit. Sal wondered if Tavin wasn’t Jaren’s apprentice.
    Jaren brought him to his feet. “No time for that now. Tell me how you got in.”
    “The safe house,” he replied, turning his blazing emerald eyes to the sleeping inmates within the bars.
    “Then we leave by the same way,” Jaren said, looking to Reit, who nodded his approval. With a whistle, Jaren called the other emeralds from their respective posts, and they all set out from the cell.
    Retzu led the way toward the guard shack at the far end of the courtyard. Sal saw that his own cave-like cell had been flanked by others—these being man-made—-complete with their own allotment of snoozing inmates.
    Another emerald mage came out of the guard shack, with a gold-hilted sword in one hand, and a brown glass bottle in the other. Retzu took the sword from the mage and strapped it across his back, sighing with relief as it settled into the hollow between his shoulders. The mage handed the bottle to Reit. “Compliments of the management,” he said with a grin which Reit returned. They stood to one side as Retzu passed, easing his sword from its sheath as he entered the shack, the mage’s face visibly growing pale, even in the darkness of the compound. Moments later Retzu reemerged, wiping blood from his blade.
    “Thank you, milord,” the mage by the doorway said,