Ways of Power 1: Power Rises (19 page)

"Then why do you risk damaging it?" she asked with a confused look.

Rancoth regarded her with a slight smile. "I'm not sure that it
can
be damaged."

Lylith cocked her head to the side, disbelief in her eyes. "How could something so rare and beautiful not be in danger of being damaged sitting atop a battle staff like that?"

"Well, you see as Dorbin and I were returning to Tower City, after visiting my parents’ old home where we found the sphere, there was a little accident. We had decided that we needed to make up for some lost time so we rode…" Rancoth paused. He wasn't sure if she knew he was a warlock, and he didn't want to put her off now that they were talking in a civilized manner. "We rode a large animal we found, the rest of the way back to the city."

"Um--okay," she said.

Rancoth quickly pushed on. "So anyway, as the animal started running, I wasn't totally prepared for how powerful it was, and my pack jostled open. The sphere flew out, and landed hard on a rock. And it's a good thing too. If it hadn't been for that loud cracking sound we wouldn’t have known it had gone missing until we were miles away.

"When we went back to retrieve it, the sphere was completely undamaged, but the rock had been shattered. Dorbin got this strange look on his face, and before I could say or do anything he ripped one of his shaping hammers off his belt and struck the sphere as hard as he could. The steel headed hammer broke like dried mud flung at a stone wall.

"Dorbin became very agitated and wouldn't really talk to me after that. Once we returned to Tower City, he practically raced to his home, refusing to meet with Grecrum. He made some excuse about needing to find something. I haven't really had the time to talk to him about it since."

"Well, that is an interesting story," Lylith said. "So are you any good with it, or even though it won't break is it still just for show?"

"I'm still learning," Rancoth said, shrugging his shoulders. "Dorbin started teaching me a couple of weeks ago, but he's not a stick fighter, so he couldn’t show me much more than the basics. We were going to find a Hulden stick fighter in Tower City for me to work with. According to him they're the best ones, but we didn't have time."

A smile split her face, and her demeanor changed from the hard captain to someone almost addressing a friend. "I'm a stick fighter myself. Maybe we could spar sometime?"

"I'd like that," Rancoth said smiling back.

Lylith stared into his iridescent green eyes, and in that moment Rancoth had an urge to kiss her.

34

"Ahem, am I--ah--interrrupting something?"

Neither of them had noticed Dorbin's approach. "No," Lylith quickly said. She blinked and shook her head; her demeanor instantly reverted back to that of the stern captain, and the moment between she and Rancoth passed.

"So this is the mid-deck. Below us is the under-deck where we keep all the cargo, and where Garbrah, my engineer, does her work. You've of course both seen the main-deck. Directly above us, under the fan wheel and the wind compressor, are the galley and my quarters." She looked from one to the other before adding, "Questions?"

"No Ma'am," Rancoth said.

"Yeah, what time is lunch?" Dorbin asked.

"You'll know that when you hear the bell ring," she said. "Now if there is nothing else, I've got work to do." With that, she left them to unpack.

After getting everything put into the small drawers and storage compartments in their cramped room, the two of them went back up to the main-deck. Dorbin went to inquire about the engineer, while Rancoth returned to where they had been standing earlier to take in the view as they traveled.

The moderately sized city of Riverton had long since disappeared behind a bend, and now the shore was covered with the dense foliage of ancient trees. Rancoth's favorites were the Lazy Willow trees. Their long pointed bright green leaves flowed gently in the breeze and hung limp on the down curving branches. This unique look was where the trees got their name; they appeared weak, or too lazy, to lift their branches up to the sky like most other trees.

To Rancoth however, they looked sad or lonely and he often found himself wondering if they could think or feel. He empathized with them, often feeling sad and alone himself, despite being raised in the most populated city in all of the Light Magi territory. He wondered what it would be like to be one of the large sulking plants.

The warm air felt good against his skin. Rancoth closed his eyes and turned his face up to welcome the sun's kiss, hot against his cheek. He took a long deep breath and listened to the quiet splashing of the water against the bow of the boat.

Someone bumped into his back and mumbled an apology, bringing Rancoth back to reality. "It's alright," he said, as he opened his eyes once more. He peeked over his shoulder to see the young ginger haired boy whom Captain Lylith had trusted with the fan wheel earlier. He was carrying several heavy looking wooden crates filled with different fruits and vegetables from below deck.

"Here let me help you--Elija, wasn't it?" Rancoth  took the top two crates, leaving the youth with two of his own.

"Yes, thank you."

"I'm Rancoth."

"Yes, I know. Thanks for the help, sir."

Rancoth laughed. "Just Rancoth. I can't be that much older than you. How old are you anyway?"

"I turn seventeen this winter," he said.

Rancoth nodded with a smile. "I'm only twenty-four. Not much difference at all."

"I guess not."

"So, what's your second name, Elija?" Rancoth asked.

"What's it matter?" Elija asked back.

"I guess it doesn't, I just thought all Huldens had two names," Rancoth said with a shrug.

"We do."The boy cocked his head."Why don't Magi, and Elfkin, and the Dwalish have second names?"

Rancoth frowned. "You know, I'm not sure. I asked Dorbin that once and Grecrum too. But I don't think I was ever really satisfied with either answer." They started walking towards the galley again, as Rancoth continued to explain.

"According to Dorbin, it's because Huldens all look so much alike that they have to have second names in order to keep track of one another. The other races all have ways of distinguishing individuals. No two Magi have eyes the exact same color, the Dwalish all have different patterns of hair growth, and the Elfkin supposedly each have a slightly different smell. Though if you ask me it's a lot easier to tell the differences between the way Huldens look then the way Elfkins smell."

They both laughed at this, though Elija glanced nervously up at Mae'Risaw as they passed under into the galley. "I hope the wind dancer didn't overhear us," he said. “Mae'Risaw and Tor’Aleen both scare me a little.”

Rancoth glanced up at the purple Elfkin and took note of this information before finishing his explanation. "I see, well anyway. Grecrum says that in the ancient times Huldens were so vastly populated that they needed second and sometimes even third names."

The cook wasn't in the galley, so they set the crates down on one of the counters, not knowing where exactly she would want them.

"Hmm, well I guess either answer makes sense. But I don't think we all look alike, and it's certainly hard to think about us overpopulating the world when there are fewer of us than anyone else," Elija said. He whipped his hands together and stuck them into the pockets of his lightly green colored pants.

Rancoth shrugged. "So, are you going to tell me your second name?"

"Sorry, it's Arris."

"Ahh, the captain’s son," Rancoth said.

The young man shrugged nonchalantly, and started to walk back out to the main-deck.

Rancoth followed. "Is your dad on the boat somewhere too?"

Elija turned to Rancoth with a hard look on his youthful face. He had his mother’s steel blue eyes and a smattering of freckles across his nose and his cheeks. "No dad and I don't need one either. So don't get any grandiose ideas--got it?"

Rancoth raised his hands defensively. "I was only curious. I meant no offense."

"Good, see that it stays that way." Elija turned and went below deck.

"Well, you're certainly your mother's son, aren’t you?" Rancoth mumbled under his breath. He looked around for Dorbin, who wasn't immediately visible. He must have found the engineer he was so eager to converse with.

Rancoth spent a good portion of the morning trying to help the crew where he could, but found that he mostly just got in the way.

Eventually he withdrew to his and Dorbin's room and climbed up onto the top bunk, leaving the lower one as a courtesy to Dorbin. He reached into one of the drawers that lined the underside of the top bunk and pulled out
The Mysterious Ray'Deeant Elfkins
. Grecrum had let him barrow it for the trip, figuring the information might come in handy once they actually reached the southern continent.

Rancoth flipped the leather-bound book open to where he had left off; a strip of red silk marked his place.

Chapter 4

Life Span of the Elfkin

Our allies to the south in many ways are but children in the world. With an average life expectancy of forty-five years they are the shortest lived of all the races on Earth.

Many scholars argue as to why the jungle-loving people do not live to see seventy or eighty years like Magi and Huldens do, let alone the seemingly immortal ages the Dwalish can reach (see my collected essays
Keeping Company with the Dwalish
, for further information on that enigmatic race.)

As always, I feel the best sources of information are the people themselves. Below is an excerpt from my interview with former Ray'Deeant Elfkin tribal leader Mar'Drikol.

BRRINKTINGG--BRRINKTINGG

              At the sound of the bell, Rancoth replaced his red ribbon bookmark before snapping the book shut and returning it to the drawer. He hopped off the bunk, and made his way up to the main-deck and into the galley.

              Dorbin was already there and in deep conversation with a rather portly little Dwalish woman, presumably the engineer for the river boat. She had a black and silver mohawk on her otherwise bald head. She wore a greasy brown leather apron, and underneath it was a simple green shirt and tan pants.

              When Dorbin saw Rancoth enter the room, he waved him over. "This is the boy I told you about," Dorbin said. Rancoth sat down on the long wooden bench next to Dorbin and across the table from his new friend. "Garrbrrah meet Rrancoth, and Rran this is Garrbrrah, the genius behind that funnel out therre," Dorbin said with a wide grin.

              "Pleasure to meet you Garbrah," Rancoth said offering his hand in greeting.

              The little woman took it firmly with a warm smile. "Dorbin here speaks very highly of you. You two must be close."

              "Too close most days," Dorbin said with a chuckle.

              "Yeah, you should hear him snore," Rancoth added, enjoying the familiar banter with his friend.

              "Oh shut it, boy!"

              All three laughed for a moment. "So where did you come up with the idea for the wind funnel?" Rancoth asked. "Dorbin's right you know, it's quite ingenious."

              The little woman blushed as other people began filing into the galley and walked by their table. "It was nothing really. It just sort of came to me."

              "Don't let her be modest," they all turned as one to see Captain Lylith approach from a door beside the kitchen.  She took a seat next to the engineer. "Tell them how you came up with the idea, Garby."

              Garbrah glanced at Dorbin out of the corner of her eye, seemingly embarrassed to be retelling the story in front of him. "Well I'm sure you're both aware of how a water screw works? How it can easily move water from one location to another?"

              Dorbin and Rancoth both nodded.

              "A few years back, we had finished a run clear down to the Mother's Boot, and needed to get back to Riverton in a hurry. Mae'Risaw and his brother Tor'Aleen practically killed themselves getting us back on time. So I figured maybe if we had a wind screw it would help them move the air through the fan, and ease some of their stress. Unfortunately it didn't work, not a first anyway.

              "So I started experimenting with different designs. Changing the screw into a series of ringed blades helped, but I knew it could work better. Eventually I figured out that by slowly shrinking the wind screw, the air got compressed. If the same amount of air is flowing over the same distance but through a much smaller area, the pressure causes it to accelerate. And, boom the funnel was born."

              Lylith shook her head. "Well, she left out some of the romantic flair that she usually tells the story with, but that's how we became the fastest cargo boat on the Big Miss."

              "Quite interesting," Rancoth said.

              "You'rre both daft. It was genius!" Dorbin exclaimed.

              Garbrah fidgeted at Dorbin’s praise but she remained in her seat despite looking like she wanted to bolt for the door.

              "Hey Cap, ya'll better get somethin 'fore it's all gone," came a shout from the kitchen.

              "We're coming, Momma!" Lylith shouted back. She clapped Rancoth on the shoulder. "Come on let's get some lunch." She winked at Dorbin and Garbrah. "You two stay put. We'll bring you something back."             

"Thank you," Dorbin said.

Garbrah nodded quietly.

              Rancoth followed Lylith to the kitchen, and from a distance it appeared as though Garbrah's demeanor relaxed with their absence.

              "Owwhe Cap, he pretty!"

              Rancoth turned at the voice to find a very short, very round, and very old woman. She was as dark, if not darker, than his father, Adroman. She had midnight black eyes, and short close curled white hair. She grinned to reveal pink toothless gums, which smacked when she spoke.

              "Come 'ere boy, and let Momma take a look at'cha." The portly woman waddled toward him. She wiped her hands on her gray shirt, horribly stained with remnants of meals long since forgotten. "Hmm, nice eyes they's kind. But cha need ta eat some mo'. You's skinny!"

              Lylith genuinely laughed for the first time since Rancoth and Dorbin and boarded her ship. "Momma, this is Rancoth, he's one of the passengers that we're ferrying south for the Arch Mage. Rancoth, meet Momma. She can be a bit of a pain every now and again, but you won't eat any better in your life then you will while you’re here with us."

              "I believe you. It's very nice to meet you Momma," Rancoth said, as the woman wrapped her arms around him in a surprisingly strong embrace. Rancoth patted her gently on the back before letting go.

              "So what's for lunch Momma?" Lylith lifted the lid off of a large yellow pot boiling on the wood fueled stove.

              "Shrimp stew and biscuits," the large woman said. She pulled a cloth off a baking dish to reveal five golden biscuits. "I saved'em for ya." She winked and waddled over to one of the cabinets, where she pulled out a couple of bowls and spoons.

              "We'll need two more, Momma. We left Rancoth's friend Dorbin and Garby at the table."

              Momma nodded and did as she was asked. "Well, don't just stan' there, he'p yourself. And pretty boy, you better take two of dem their biscuits."

              "Yes, Ma'am," Rancoth said with a smile. He liked this Momma more by the minute.