The Weaving of Wells (Osric's Wand, Book Four) (58 page)

Gus listened to the trill of birds in the trees and the buzz of bees seeking nectar in the wild flowers, and the smile returned to his face. He was certain he could track the dragons. He was already inventorying the necessities for the spell and working out the complications of casting it, but they had the networked wells to ensure he would have the power he needed to draw on. And the others would help him find a way to locate and tag the offenders. With a rudimentary solution to the problem in mind, Gus was finally able to let the pressure fall away so that he could enjoy his foray into the forest looking for sticks.

It had been years since he had run on four legs through the forest, but he let himself slip into a younger mindset, pausing only when sounds piqued his curiosity. Now, he abandoned the traveling spell, giving himself over to the physical pleasure of bounding about, staying out of the shade, letting the sun warm his coat as he went.

He was thankful to be alone, in the mood he was in, but Gus felt that his decades spent as the greatest Wand-Maker had afforded him at least a few moments’ celebration and frivolity. He paused for a moment with a ridiculous grin, looking about for any sign of observation, but there was none.

He continued, keeping one eye on the ground near the water, watching for signs that he could find the sticks that brought him out this morning. Pebble wouldn’t have been able to use much of anything located about, since he typically used much larger wood sources to carve a wand, but Gus was beginning to get excited.

The trees next to the stream on his right were getting larger the further he went, but the left side of the road had turned into open fields of sugarcane a while back. The distance between the road and the water grew wider, and with the growing distance and taller trees came a ground littered with even more fallen branches.

Gus stopped in the shade of a silo. It was tall and unremarkable and mostly made of stone painted white with small cracks radiating throughout. It was a very old building and had probably earned its owners fifty times the cost to build it before it became too rundown to store anything properly. And like his broken body, the attached refinery showed signs of years of too much hard work and too little upkeep.

“You and I have something in common.” He stepped close and spoke to the tall structure with admiration in his voice. “We’re both long past our prime, but we have done our jobs well.” He ran one long claw gently over the scars on his legs and torso from botched hunts and looked back at cracks in the stone. Smoke vacated the chimney of the refinery, indicating that someone was busy working inside, so Gus decided he should be working as well. “Now, I have an idea that should put my name right back up on top of the Wand-Maker world for a while.” Gus turned away and looked at the ground below the trees. “But I’ll need the perfect stick for this wand.” He smiled at the thought of recreating Osric’s wand with the help of the network of wells they had created. With a wand like that in the hands of every Aranthian, the threat of the dragons wouldn’t seem so daunting. But unlike Legati, these would be wands in the best form: sticks.

He took a few steps toward the trees, but something looked odd. The swatch of trees had grown wide, but no sounds rose from the life that surely dwelled within the cover. He looked down and was unsure if his eyes were playing tricks on him. The land below the trees looked sunken and distorted, and the trees were leaning at odd angles in every direction. He was sure they hadn’t been that way just a moment ago.

Then, in a sudden rush, his Portentist gift flared to life, but danger was approaching from everywhere. The ground below his feet, all the way to the water and beyond, buckled. The area that collapsed was huge, surprising him as he shouted in alarm. Gus pictured his chambers in the Aranthian habitat and began to recite the traveling spell, but something solid smashed against the back of his head and his vision spiraled and went black.

When he opened his eyes, he could see blood mingling with the mud in the fur along his shoulder and forearm. His vision was still wavering, and the ground around him was shifting further toward the trees and water as the region was swallowed up in the sinkhole. Gus was stunned by the realization that he was witnessing the same scene that he had seen so many years before in the Seer’s vision. More than anything, he was surprised that he hadn’t noticed it was happening before it was too late.

Gus saw a large chunk of stone from the silo topple to the ground nearby, and he struggled to hold the image of the Aranthian quarters firmly in his mind. He fought against the fog that threatened to suck him back into the blackness of unconsciousness as he searched his memory for the words of the traveling spell. He tried to speak, to move his mouth and force the words from his throat, but he could not make a sound. He tried to push himself up from the ground, but the debris and the swiftly deepening earth that was settling around him had trapped his limbs. He struggled to draw a breath, his aged body unable to push back against the weight of the heavy stone and mud. Every breath was more shallow, and he was quickly losing his grip on consciousness As he desperately tried to breathe, to move, to speak the words to the traveling spell, a loud crack sounded behind him. Sugar dust erupted into the air when the silo split apart. He briefly registered the wash of heat that passed over him, and the last thing he saw was the bright light of the explosion when the flames of the farmer’s fire met the volatile dust.

Osric’s Wand Series

The Wand-Maker’s Debate
–
Book 1

The High-Wizard’s Hunt
–
Book 2

The Well of Strands
–
Book 3

The Weaving of Wells
– Book 4

www.osricswand.net

Dedications

For May with love—it often takes an adventure to discover who you are. I’m grateful to be a part of yours, and I hope you enjoy every step of the journey.

I wish you blessings and joy each day, I wish you to see the beauty and wonder in yourself that I see in you, and I wish you victory in every battle.

~Ashley

To my Jellybean—our little family has grown over the last year. At one time it was just me and my perfect little girl. Now, what once was two is four. You have another brother, and I have what you have always wished for me: a wonderful, loving wife.

You continue to grow and become more independent with every passing day. Your life will change in so many ways in these upcoming years, and I can't wait to see what life has in store for you.

~Jack

Acknowledgments

The superb editing for
The Weaving of Wells
was done by Scott Alexander Jones:
www.scottalexanderjones.com
.

Our fantastic covers have all been created by Rodrigo Adolfo:
www.roadioarts.darkfolio.com

The Authors

Ashley Delay strives to live each day to the fullest with an abundance of clichés: learn something new every day, never stop dreaming, learn from mistakes, stop and smell the roses, believe the best in others, and embrace the power of positive thinking. Although writing is one of many endeavors Ashley currently pursues, it has become one of her greatest joys. She is a busy wife, mother, student, teacher, business owner, and writer who dreams of someday finding that elusive treasure called “free time.” In the meantime, she will continue exploring the marvelous worlds that can only come to life in the pages of a book.

Jack D. Albrecht, Jr. always wanted to be tall, muscular, and talented with a sword. Since he was unable to convince Mother Nature to give him height or muscles, and he has no desire to lose what looks he has in a sword fight, he invents worlds where people are less shallow and swordplay is commonplace. In spite of his helpless nature, he is surrounded by an amazing array of talented women, beginning first with his mother who knew how to raise a man to respect women. She taught him to love reading by waking up early every morning to read her Bible. He can often be found doting on his daughter or cooking a gourmet meal for his wife.

Contact Information

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Copyright

The Weaving of Wells

The Osric’s Wand Series – Book 4

Copyright © 2016 Jack D. Albrecht Jr. & Ashley Delay CoWrite, LLC.