A Touch of Magic and a Lot of Hard Work

Belboz and Checkers sipped the broth of their stew without talking to each other. Checkers looked intently to the north. Her shoulders slumped, and she would take a deep breath, exhale, and shake her head from time to time. Belboz watched her. He did not have to read her mind to know something of the nature of what she was thinking. He thought to himself, "She is probably trying to think of something to try, but she does not have any good choices. It is dark out there, and any natural light would seen get drenched, sputter, and die. Even if her wing were strong, she could not fly with this wind and rain, and on the ground she is more likely to get lost and need help than she is to rescue those two. And she knows this. If she has any magic in her, she is going to use it now."

Checkers looked up from her bowl, and asked, "Do you have any ideas?"

Belboz replied, "No, not really. The problem is, I do not know where they are. If they are lost, then there is no way that they will find us tonight."

"Yes. I was hoping that you may have had some insight, or some trick."

"Magic, you mean?"

Checkers blinked, and then nodded reluctantly. She obviously would not ask a magician for help on her own account, but felt compelled to do so for Fred and Astra.

"Checkers, please do not hesitate to ask. In a way, Gliders and mages are in the same boat. Both possess a natural gift improved by practice and discipline, and both are therefore feared and hated by those that do not have that gift." Well done, Belboz thought to himself. At worst, she should have some empathy for me. At best, I might stoke some old resentments between Glider and human. Belboz continued, "As a matter of fact, while you have been pondering ways to rescue Fred and Astra, I have been thinking, too. I have some ideas that might help."

"Really? Is there anything that I can do?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. I am occupied trying to keep the rain out, so I could use some assistance. The problem is that Fred and Astra cannot find us in this darkness, and they are probably lost. Magic is not simply waving a wand and chanting a few words. Sometimes a lot of tedious work has to be done. I am going to need someone to pound some rocks for me."

Checkers nodded her head. This was not going to be any fun, but if it would help Fred and Astra, she would gladly pitch in.

"Here is the trick," continued Belboz. "I am going to place a spell on the ground. The rock will be easier to work with. I am going to need you to create a pit, as deep as you are tall. The trick is, that it has to be as close to a this shape as possible." Belboz sketched a shallow parabola on the a flat rock with a brown, chalky piece of stone.

"Do you have a pickaxe?" Checkers asked.

"No, but your spear will work. Do you have something stronger than flint?"

Checkers looked at her equipment. In a large leather pouch, there was an iron spearpoint. She attached it to her spear, and looked at Belboz for instructions.

He reached into his robe, and sprinkled a silvery powder in a circle across the flat part of the ground, outside the pocket of shelter that he had created around the fire. The rocks within the circle turned a pale shade of brown as the water from the rain mixed with the powder. Within thirty seconds, Belboz was back within the sheltered area.

Belboz left Checkers to figure out how to carve the paraboloid. If she had some unknown magic ability, she could carve it quickly and avoid the rain. Either she could not or would not reveal that ability if she could. She doggedly chisled the weakened rock, ignoring the rain. Masses of crumbly stone flew out of the pit. Within a half hour, the pit was deep enough. Here Checkers' skill as a sculptress [23263] helped a great deal. Belboz was impressed with the speed at which she was working the pit into the desired shape. Within an hour of starting, Checkers had carved out a pit that was much closer to a perfect parabolic shape than the line on the rock.

"She either knows some of this trick, she is lucky, or she has a natural sense of what is required," thought Belboz.

"Excellent work, Checkers," said Belboz. "Now please come inside the shelter and rest, and dry off by the fire." A waterlogged and muddy Glider lay down by the fire, exhausted.

Belboz chanted a four sentence poem in the Common tongue that made no sense to Checkers, and then brought out the same two stones that he used to create the light when Checkers first encountered the dragon in the Arsenel [23380]. He handed the rocks to Checkers.

"I am going to let you try to work some magic. Don't worry. You just need to knock these two rocks together. I just want to see what happens. If it does not work, then I will try."

Checkers felt silly, but she complied. She had a glimmer of understanding - Belboz was trying to create some sort of signal. She took the rocks in her hands and tapped them together.

1. Nothing special happened.
2. The rocks glowed brightly, and a silvery sheen glistened from the pit. (She had made a parabolic mirror, as Belboz expected.)
3. Something happened that Belboz did not expect.

Add New Option

Go Back

View Forward Story Tree
View Back Story Tree