Wizard's Blood [Part One] Page 2

  He’d camped in the woods many times before, but those had been planned trips with a group of buddies and were always a cell phone away from civilization, or at worst a few miles hike in a known direction to food, shelter and security. This was disturbingly different, and came after a long year of weird events. He shivered again. Not that anyone was around to notice, but he was more than a little scared.

  Chapter 2

  Randy’s eyes snapped open suddenly once he realized he was awake. “Shit,” he muttered, his annoyance directed at himself. He’d had no intention of sleeping, and in fact had made a deliberate decision to stay awake all night. There was too much he didn’t know about this land in which he had suddenly found himself, and far too many possible dangers in the forest in particular. Once the sun slipped below the horizon and it became fully dark, a condition made even grimmer by the dark clouds that covered the sky blocking even the starlight he might have otherwise had to aid him, the sounds of the forest seemed more ominous. He heard a number of larger animals moving from time to time, but was never able to catch a glimpse of them. He felt somewhat reassured by the continued presence of the “squirrels”, a group of which had become accustomed to his presence and which skittered in and around his small campsite in much the same manner as their counterparts back home. If they weren’t frightened away, then Randy concluded nothing particularly dangerous was in the vicinity. Still, he’d kept the pistol in his hand, ready for any change in events. His hand was still wrapped around the old gun, which rested in his lap when he woke. He moved his arm, and gently placed the pistol on the pack next to him.

  While he had no idea of the local time, the sun had been up long enough to provide enough light to make it easy to see around. His watch was useless here, being set to Boulder time, and he really had no idea of the length of the day here anyway. It had come to that. After last night he no longer had any doubts that getting home was problematic at best, and it wouldn’t be happening without some local help, if that was possible. Once the rain had stopped and the wind had chased away the dark clouds allowing him a view of the sky, he had tried to look for familiar star patterns. There were none, and even the moon appeared odd. It wasn’t as bright as he recalled, and had large dark areas he hadn’t seen before. It also looked slightly smaller. The reason became clear a bit over an hour later when a second moon rose above the horizon. This one was smaller, perhaps half to two-thirds as large, and in a different phase, as well as a more inclined orbit. It was also moving faster, indicating a lower orbit, so its apparent size wasn’t a true measure of the actual relative size of the two objects. A lot of differences could possibly be explained, but not the presence of a second moon. Of course, the sun rising in the west this morning was a bit of a clue as well. Clearly, he was no longer on Earth. The concept challenged everything he believed as a scientist, but the mind wrenching passage the previous afternoon had somehow taken him completely out of his frame of reference. He didn’t know where to begin. Was he shifted in time? In space? Both? Nowhere in the solar system fit what little he knew of this place, and nothing he knew of Earth’s past fit the dual moon scenario. Had he been pulled into the future? He didn’t think so. The time it would take to shift all of the stars into unrecognizable patterns would be significant, not to mention the time for a full reverseal of the magnetic poles. Besides, he wasn’t sure he believed in time travel. Not that it mattered. Nothing he believed afforded a logical explanation for what appeared to have happened to him.

  He felt himself starting to panic, and dug deep inside for the fortitude to push the fears aside. Answers were needed, and quickly, and he wouldn’t be finding any sitting here. Randy had convinced himself the previous night that the intruder had inadvertently brought him to this place. Clearly not to the exact same place his adversary had returned to, and maybe not knowingly, but hopefully not too far away. That meant there had to be others here as well. The intruder had also come and gone multiple times from Randy’s place in Boulder, which meant there was a way back. He simply needed to find someone who could help him access it. Of course, there was always the possibility the intruder had been aware of his aborted attack, and had somehow sent him to a place from which there was no return and no one to help him. Randy preferred not to think along those lines.

  He picked up the pistol again, and struggling to his feet, he stretched muscles that had been abused by the unusual arrival the previous day and a long night spent huddled against a couple of boulders padded by some of the crumbling leaves and his daypack. His new friends seemed to have deserted him this morning, and the forest was quiet except for the occasional sounds of the birds flitting back and forth high up in the trees. The movement felt good, and after a few minutes he slipped the pistol into his belt. He had made a decision. Heading east had led nowhere, so he would head the opposite direction and see what he could find. The ground was surprisingly dry given the amount of rain the previous evening, indicating the soil was porous and had greedily absorbed the water rather than becoming muddy and slippery. Already the ground looked much as it had when he had arrived the previous day.

  First was breakfast. Randy realized he was hungry now, but decided he could only eat half of his packed lunch and drink another half a bottle of water. That still left him food and water for another day, not counting the chocolate bars, which he still hadn’t decided how to allocate. He wished he was confident in the water purity, as that would become an issue much sooner than the food. Most likely, he would simply have to gamble on the safety of the water, and he hoped there would be small pools of rainwater collected in the rocks along the way.

  A bit later, having eaten, and having made sure his fire was fully out, Randy set off. This could be fun, he thought, if his situation wasn’t so serious. He realized he needed to find help within a couple of days, or he was a dead man.

  It wasn’t too long before he knew he wouldn’t be heading west. Within an hour, the trees thinned and the ground became increasingly rocky. While varying in degree, the grade was always up, which not only tapped his reserves, but it also suggested he was on a path that led up into the mountains he could see in the distance. They were mostly barren rock, with few trees, and while there might be a path through them, it could take weeks to find it. Randy decided it was a bad bet, especially since he had no idea how far the range extended and whether there was anything on the other side. When he found a gradual slope heading north down into a wide meadow, he made the obvious choice and set out along the new path.

  After an hour of walking, following the path of least resistance through the forest and along the gently rolling hills, Randy came to another steep decline in the landscape. This one, however, had an obvious path down to the lower level, and more importantly he could see what appeared to be signs of an encampment near the base of the hill. After using his binoculars to scout the area for ten minutes, Randy decided the camp was deserted, but from the small wisps of smoke coming from one of the fire pits he concluded it had been occupied the previous night. Of course, there was nothing to indicate whether the campers would be friend or foe.

  Even though he thought the area was deserted, Randy took every precaution to be as silent as possible as he made his way down the incline and made his approach into the back of the camp. The caution was wasted effort, as it was indeed abandoned. There were two fire pits that were still warm, and it looked as if a half dozen individuals had spent the night here. All indications pointed to their having left without any intention of returning soon. His spirits soared. They were only a half day or so ahead, and he needed only to follow them. His chances of survival had just improved markedly.

  After his initial elation at finding the camp, Randy began to have second thoughts. There was nothing else out here in this wilderness for as far as he could see. He had not encountered any sign of a village, nor any sign of attempts at cultivation or other use of the land. This place he was walking through was a wilderness, and the more he considered the possibilities, the surer he b
ecame that the people in the group ahead of him had to be friends of the man he had tried to capture. Even if the man wasn’t aware of his attempt, he would know Randy on sight because of their past interactions in Boulder. Randy was sure that would be very bad for him. Because of this, he had decided that his best move was to try and catch up with them, but then merely follow and see if they could lead him out of here. Maybe he could get close enough and see if the man he sought was actually part of the group. If the man wasn’t there, it could alter his options.

  After finding their footprints marking the direction they were headed he had moved quickly at first, trying to make up time. He couldn’t know how long ago they had broken camp, and therefore how much of a lead they had on him, but at least they appeared to be walking. He could find no sign of animal prints mixed in with the prints of what seemed to be seven men traveling together. After a time he understood at least one reason for the lack of animal transport. The land was generally relatively flat and easy to travel, but periodically he came to a steep incline, where he was forced to make his way over loose rock down a treacherous hillside. Getting a horse up or down such terrain would have posed some insurmountable problems.

  Gradually the forest started to thin, the spacing of the tall trees increasing until they simply spotted the landscape here and there, and then not at all. Small trees, more like the pines he knew from home now populated the area, and even these were more widely spread allowing him a clear view of the bright blue sky dotted here and there with small puffy clouds. The ground was covered with various colored grasses and an abundance of bright wild flowers, with small streams of water frequently cutting across his path. While there was no real trail, looking carefully he could detect occasional signs that this way had been traveled before. In the distance he could see another range of mountains, perhaps a half day ahead, which seemed to show thickening of the forest again, with coloring that suggested the current smaller trees rather than the larger variety they had left behind. Three hours later he caught the first glimpses of them on the slope across a small meadow below him.

  Now that he had spotted the group, he could slow his pace and just keep them in view. Eventually they would make camp, and then he could sneak in closer and have a look. That happened much sooner than he expected. From the sun’s position, it was still several hours from sunset when the group broke off their march and started setting up camp. Randy decided it was a place they must have known about and had hiked toward, and when he looked carefully he could see signs it had been used as a campground before.

  Confident they would be staying put, he slipped back around the hill where he was out of their direct view and found a place he could be comfortable. He would rest, have a small snack, and check on them after they had settled in. While they were moving about and setting things up, the chances someone might spot him were a lot higher.

  Randy was resting in the shade provided by the sides of his temporary hide, his eyes closed, having answered the call of nature and finished half of one of the precious candy bars and part of his last bottle of water. He was using his food too quickly, but the rapid pace he had set catching up with the others had made him hungry, and he had needed a boost. Clearly he needed to see where they got their water and what precautions, if any, they seemed to take. Of course, just because the water was safe for them didn’t guarantee it would be for him as well.

  He had just about decided it was time to make his way back to his observation point when a voice spoke quietly behind him.

  “Take no action wizard, or it will be your last.” An arrow embedded itself suddenly into the tree beside him with an ominous ‘thunk’.

  Randy froze, his mind racing. How had they found him? He was sure he hadn’t been seen. Perhaps they put out scouts to check behind them, but why? There was no-one else out here to protect against. While he was attempting to determine where he had slipped up, a part of his mind latched onto the fact the man wasn’t speaking English, yet Randy had no trouble understanding him at all. The man was speaking the language the intruder had impressed into his mind some months before when he had conscripted Randy to help him back in Boulder. This was further evidence on where he was, but almost certainly meant the person behind him was a friend of his enemy.

  “I put Karonabark in your water earlier when you went to pee. Your powers are frozen for now. Even if you are strong and can resist the bark, my arrow can reach you before you can raise a shield. I am a sensitor, and can tell if you tap the magic. Even if I am wrong and you are fast enough to kill me, my arrow will still end your life. Be wise and move slowly and follow my instructions and you may live a bit longer.”

  Something was placed on the rock next to him, the hand withdrawing almost before he realized it was there. He saw a small brown substance, looking a bit like a shriveled raisin.

  “Move slowly”, the voice warned him. “Eat that while I watch. Do it! Now!” The voice was commanding and left little doubt what would happen if he failed to do as directed.

  Randy hesitated. He wasn’t sure what to do. He wasn’t keen on eating something from here that could be poisonous, yet the person behind him could easily kill him, so it was unlikely that poisoning was the intent. And if he didn’t comply. . . . .

  He reached down and picked up the substance. It was dried and a bit crumbly, and had little taste when it put it in his mouth. He swallowed it whole, rather than attempt to chew it.

  The man behind him laughed. “It is certain now,” he said. “Even the strongest wizard cannot use his powers after such a dose of the bark.”

  Randy heard scrambling in the rocks behind him, and moments later a young man – boy - came around from the left side and into view. The voice had been deceptive, suggesting a much more mature adversary. He was still holding his bow, with an arrow nocked and ready, with the string partially pulled and held in place by his left hand. While it was not ready for release, Randy was certain the boy could reach over with his right hand and complete the draw more quickly than he could move. The man-boy seemed confident that Randy was no threat, although he remained ready to react quickly if necessary.

  Randy watched him warily, suddenly uncertain of the situation. The boy seemed to be in his early teens, fourteen or fifteen he guessed, yet it was obvious he possessed a confidence and self-assurance of someone considerably older. Although he was young, the muscles in his bare arms were well developed, indicating a degree of strength that suggested the boy was no stranger to hard work, and that he was more than capable of handling the oversize bow he carried. Randy was certain the boy was being quite truthful when he said he would kill him if necessary, and sensed it wouldn’t be the first time he had killed. At the same time, Randy was no longer as certain the boy was with the group he had been following. From what he had seen earlier, all members of that group were considerably older, so that raised the question of where had this lad come from? He felt a stirring of hope. If he wasn’t with them, then perhaps he had reasons to be watching them as well. Perhaps this could work out to his advantage.

  He continued to watch the boy, who observed him in turn from behind a pair of intent dark blue eyes, the exact color of which Randy had never encountered before, that radiated both confidence and curiosity. He was probably as fascinated by Randy’s appearance as Randy was of his. The boy was roughly five and a half feet tall, with dark curly hair that covered his ears and fell a bit below his shoulders. From the ragged appearance of the cut, he probably whacked it off himself as necessary. The random bushiness it displayed indicated a great deal of concern had not been directed its way. He had a thin, almost non-existent beard around his chin and the sides of his face, the hair not fully mating up with his sideburns, another sign of his youth. He wore clothes made from a rugged, but clearly old and worn cloth, which sported a number of tears and patches, and which appeared more than a little dirty. On his feet he had homemade sandals, with thick soles and straps made from some animal skin. Bits of hair still clung to one side of the front
strap. A leather belt around his waist held his pants up, and sported a sheath with a wooden handled knife that looked to have a blade at least six inches long hanging on his left side. A small pouch hung from a strap over his right shoulder, and a ragged quiver with a dozen or so additional arrows hung over his left. The bow, however, appeared to be something special. While everything else the boy had looked old and worn, the bow gleamed, and appeared to have been extremely well cared for. The wood was polished and smooth, with some kind of pattern inlaid into the wood. The arrows were straight and smooth, with arrowheads that were a translucent crystal and looked very sharp.

  Randy struggled to find the right thing to say. He considered and rejected several openings, and then blurted out a reaction to something the boy had said.

  “Why do you keep calling me a wizard?” he asked defensively, while carefully lifting his arms in what he hoped was a submissive posture. “I have no magical powers.”

  That earned him a grin from the boy, who now moved a bit closer.