Light in the Barren Lands: Travail of The Dark Mage Book One (20 page)

A noise from the back preceded the appearance of the self same woman depicted in the pictures, though perhaps a touch grayer. She wore an apron lightly dusted with flour and hair gathered in a hairnet. “What can I do for you?” she asked with a grin.

James nodded to the pictures. “You have quiet a collection.”

She grinned even wider. “I never miss the conventions,” she replied. “In the back I have more. These are the crown jewels of my collection.”

“Very impressive.”

“Thank you. Now, what can I get for you folks?”

“Three medium pizzas,” he replied. “One pepperoni, one all meat, and one whatever your combination is. Also, a pitcher of…” Pausing, he glanced over to the soda fountain. “Pepsi.”

She took in the three before her. “You want that to go?”

James shook his head. “No, we’ll eat here.”

“As you wish. Be ready in fifteen minutes.”

“Fine.”

As she disappeared into the back to work on their order, James led them over to a booth and slid in. Jiron and Jira sat across from him.

“Any idea yet on how to get us home?” questioned Jiron.

James shook his head. “Not yet.”

“Hope mother is okay,” said Jira.

“I’m sure she is,” her father assured her. Though his voice oozed confidence that her mother was fine, deep in his heart, doubt festered. He couldn’t imagine how those who had invaded the Isle of the Dark Mage and overcame all that James could throw at them, would be stopped by the protective shield in place around the manor wherein their loved ones waited. He feared for his lovely Aleya, archer extraordinaire, who had won his heart. Would he ever see her again? Feel her in his arms one more time? Glancing across the table, he knew the answer to those questions lay with the man upon whose birth world they now traveled.

The fifteen minutes passed quickly and the woman appeared from the back carrying three pizzas. “Here you go,” she said as the three pizzas were laid upon the table before them.

James could only nod as the aroma hit his senses and his salivary glands went into overtime. First slice he took was of the meat combo. As soon as he bit off the first bite, he was in pizza heaven.

“Good?” the woman asked.

“Oh, man, yes,” James replied before taking the second bite.

Jiron and Jira each followed his lead and took a slice of the meat combo. The woman waited for their first bite, and when saw they were satisfied, gave them a smile and returned to the kitchen.

“You know,” James announced after finishing off his second slice, “Lorri tried making this a time or two back on the island.” Grabbing two slices of the pepperoni pizza, he laid them together like a sandwich and took a rather large bite. “But she could never quite get it right,” he continued when his mouth was again mostly empty. “Might have been the cheese, or the way she made the crust. After her third attempt, I stopped trying to give her advice. It annoyed her no end.”

“I could imagine,” Jiron chuckled. Many were the times he himself had faced Aleya’s wrath after suggesting one dish or another was either too dry, moist, or overcooked. She was a fair cook now, but when they were first married, she had actually managed to burn the water. To this day he wasn’t sure how she had managed it, but the water had borne a decidedly charred aftertaste. Once in a while when he felt brave, Jiron would mention the “burning of the water” in a moment of levity only to regret it later. Sleeping out in the front room for a week wasn’t all that comfortable.

Such thoughts invariably caused a resurgence of worry and fear for their loved ones left behind. Conversation died off as each turned inward to dwell on the fate of their loved ones.

By the time they had eaten their fill, and less than a dozen slices remained of the three pizzas, both Jiron and James were thoroughly depressed. Jira wasn’t nearly as bad since her belief of a positive outcome had repeatedly been bolstered by encouraging assurances.

The train of thought in which Meliana and Kenny were being marched off toward the slave block was thankfully interrupted by the return of Mama. “Everything alright?” she asked. Her ever cheerful demeanor did much to dispel the cloud of impotent worry.

“It was the best pizza I’ve had in many a year,” replied James.

His words caused her to beam even more. “I do my best.” Gesturing to the remaining pizza she asked, “Need a box?”

“No,” James answered shaking his head.

She gave him a grin and began stacking the used dinnerware in a neat pile. “If you’re ever this way again, stop by.”

“We will,” assured a most satisfied James.

Then taking the stack of dirty plates and uneaten pizza, she returned back into the kitchen.

A rather large burp escaped Jira to which she had the good grace to blush. “Sorry.”

James let one out too and she giggled. ”We should get going.” Getting up from the booth, he took advantage of the facilities before returning to the car. Jiron and Jira did the same and took a little bit longer to emerge.

To while away the time, James returned to the counter and looked again at the many pictures upon the wall. It really was quite an impressive collection. He knew that many Trekkies would have given their right arms to have something like that. His gaze was just moving toward the picture of Picard and Mama when from out of the corner of his eye, he spied something that caused his heart to skip a beat.

A beat up felt hat hung from the coat rack. Its familiar lines brought back a host of memories, the most vivid concerned the wearer and a certain visit paid to a pizza parlor many years ago.
Could it be?

During his search for Miko after the fall of The City of Light, Igor had appeared one night driving a beat-up truck and drove him to a pizza parlor. If his memory served, it was the very same pizza parlor in which he now stood.

His mind raced at the implications if he was correct. But this had to be the same place! How many places could there be called Mama’s Pizza that were operated by a woman who was a Trekkie? Very, very few.

Then a sudden remembrance from when he, Jiron, and Jira first arrived at Mama’s caused him to bolt out the door and dash around to the side. Sure enough, there sat the old pickup. True, it had been dark the time Igor appeared and drove him there, but he was fairly certain that this was the very same pickup. Excited, he rushed back inside just as Jiron and Jira were emerging from the restroom.

Jiron quickly noted the state of excitement his friend was in. “What?” he asked. “Did you think of a way to get us home?” Beside him, Jira turned hopeful eyes toward her uncle.

“Maybe,” James replied then moved to the door leading into the kitchen. Opening it a crack, he saw Mama setting a recently washed dish onto the drying rack. Opening the door wider, he said in a slightly louder than normal voice, “Excuse me.”

Glancing his way, she asked, “Yes?” Drying her hands on a dishtowel laying nearby, she moved toward where James peered in through the door. “Is there something else I can help you with?”

James backed from the doorway as she made her way through. He held up the felt hat. “Do you know who this belongs to?”

Taking the hat from him, she peered at it for a moment then shook her head. “No,” she replied. “It’s been on that coat rack for the better part of a year. Haven’t a clue as to whose it is.”

Undeterred, James asked, “How about that pickup parked out back?”

Eyes widening slightly at that, she asked, “That rusty old clunker? It used to be my brother’s but it broke down six years ago and he abandoned it. I keep threatening to have it towed, but haven’t gotten around to it.” She gazed at him with questions in her eyes. “Why?”

“I thought it might be someone’s I know…,” then a thought came to him. “Your brother wouldn’t be short would he? Say three or four feet tall?”

“Herman?” she grinned. “You’re way off there. He’s six foot four.”

Disappointment surfaced and it must have shown on his face. “Sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”

“That’s alright,” he replied, mind already awhirl with this added new development. “You have a good day.”

Again her smile shone forth. “You too. And come back when you can.”

James nodded, then gestured for Jiron and Jira to follow him out to the car.

“What was that about?” Jiron asked as soon as they were out the door.

“Igor.”

“Igor? That god or whatever that brought you to my world?”

With a jerk of his head, he directed Jiron’s attention back to the restaurant. “He wore a hat just like that every time we met. Also…” Leading the father and daughter around the side of the building, he pointed toward the truck. “I believe that this was the same truck he picked me up in around the time Cassie died and Tinok ran off.”

Those memories were some of the hardest of Jiron’s life. Cassie had been a dear, sweet girl whom everyone liked. Her death had been hard on him, but especially on his childhood friend Tinok. Tinok had never been the same since her death.

“You think he may be around here?”

James thought for a moment as he panned his gaze across the countryside. “I don’t know…could be nothing more than a coincidence.”

“But you don’t believe that do you?” There had been something in James’ voice that implied he hadn’t.

Pointing to the pickup, James replied, “He picked me up in that vehicle and drove me here, to Mama’s Pizza. He was wearing that felt hat and we split a pepperoni pizza. It was during that visit when I came up with the idea of using crystals to store magical energy.”

“Maybe he’s not through with you yet?”

James’ head swung toward Jiron and met his gaze. “That’s not funny.”

“Wasn’t meant to be. Merely a thought.”

“Well, put that thought right back in your head,” declared James. “I am not getting myself involved with gods, godlings, or whatever Igor may be.” The thought of once again being a pawn in some cosmic dealing left a bitter taste in his mouth. The last time had almost cost him his life, not to mention everyone he had grown to care about.

Jiron let his friend rant and rave for a minute or so, then said, “If your world has no magic, then it may only be through the intervention of someone like this Igor that we will find our way home.” James grew quiet and after a pause, nodded.

“Don’t think I haven’t considered that,” he replied. “It’s one thing for me to seek them out, and another for them to be manipulating events toward some unknown, and potentially lethal, goal.”

After giving his friend a long, thoughtful look, Jiron said, “Okay, let us say that the hat is his and the truck was indeed the one he brought you here in. What does it mean?”

“It means my life is about to get complicated.”

“Or…it could be that he is trying to get you back to my world.” Jiron watched his friend as that sank in.

Such a thought was not totally outside the realm of possibility. It could very well be possible. “Okay, say that is his purpose. How will all this help?”

Jiron kept quiet. He knew the inner workings of James’ mind were churning over the problem. And any talk on his part would only be a distraction.

“A hat…a truck…Mama’s pizza…” None of it made any sense. There was nothing to suggest a course of action. They were still wanted by the government, had nowhere to go and money was quickly running out.

“Father…” Jira began but was quickly silenced. Jiron didn’t want anything to interrupt James’ thought process.

“This is insane,” James finally said as he turned his attention back to the truck. “I don’t…” Spying something amid the rust corroding the rear bumper caused him to halt in mid sentence.

What once used to be a bumper sticker was barely legible after years of exposure to the elements. All that could be made out was a design of what may have been a castle and the letters a-n-d. The rest of the bumper sticker had either been torn away or ruined beyond recognition.

a-n-d
. Based on the fact the “d” abutted the castle and that they were all lower case suggested the letters were the tale end of a longer word. It didn’t take an idiot to figure out what the bumper sticker had at one time said.

“That’s it!” he exclaimed.

Memories of another trip made with Igor came flooding back.

“I know this place.”

“You should,” the little guy replied. “You’ve been here often enough.”

“Mommy, mommy!” a little girl squealed with delight as she ran over to the little guy in costume. “It’s Mickey!” Coming over, she gave “Mickey” a big hug then turned to pose while her mother took their picture.

Once the picture was taken, Mickey patted her on the head as she turned to him and said, “Bye, Mickey!”

“This is Disneyland!” James exclaimed incredulously as he stared down Main Street USA and toward Cinderella’s Castle standing majestically at the end.

“Yeah,” the little guy replied. “I love this place.” He started walking down toward the heart of Disneyland, and kids continued coming up to him, giving him hugs and having their picture taken.

“How do you know about it?” James inquired.

“I get around,” Mickey replied. “Besides, those of us who gravitate to what you call good, are drawn to such focal points in the universe.”

“Disneyland is a focal point?” James asked, astonished.

“Think about it,” replied the little guy. “What happens whenever someone mentions it? Those around them feel good, instantly. That makes it a remarkable place, there are very few like it anywhere.” He paused a moment to have his picture taken with several children, their mother simply aglow with happiness.

“Everyone here on Earth knows of it and they continually direct good thoughts toward it,” he explained. “It’s almost a beacon in the night for those of us who can see it.”

Beacon in the night? Focal point? Maybe it isn’t called the most magical place on Earth for nothing? Even if there was no magic, maybe Igor or another like him could be found in attendance. And if so…

They now had a destination.
Disneyland.