“Sam, join me.” Barnabus shifted, making room for Sam at the worktable.
Taking a fistful of dirt out of a jar he’d brought over, Sam scattered it over the page. Eyes closed, he began moving his hands in sweeping motions, as if he was sifting through sand, holding some in his palms while letting the rest fall. Slowly, the map started to change, the ink shifting and growing as the scattered dirt sank into the pages. Trees, rivers, and other natural elements sprang up on the map, giving an intimately detailed story of the landscape. Eventually every speck of earth had disappeared into the map.
Sam brought the dry map to life. He’d been young enough before the fire that Rodric hadn’t given a shred of thought to whether or not the boy would inherit any magic. He’d only been aware of the twins’ magic, Damien and Jena being his and Avery’s best friends. Magic was sparse enough in Eldridge—to his knowledge, at least—that he assumed the development was random. Watching Sam had him questioning that concept.
Opening eyes several shades darker, Sam breathed a sigh of completion and smiled at his work. Rodric’s heart clenched. Damien’s eyes had darkened like that when he used magic, too.
“Very good. That should do it. One other thing.” Barnabus maneuvered carefully to a locked cabinet and brought a small, locked wooden box back to the table. After spending a few moments sifting through the seemingly ordinary stones, muttering to himself as he weighed them in his palms and discarded them, he selected two.
“Celina.” He motioned her forward and placed a stone in her hands, then covered both of hers with his, murmuring soft sounds. Celina’s demeanor glowed with joy as she bowed her head close to Barnabus’s over the stone.
“Let the truth warm your soul, my girl. Until we meet again.” Kissing her forehead, he released her and turned to study Rodric for a moment with a twitching eyelid. Rodric shifted uncomfortably under the direct attention of the elder mage. What did the man see when he focused so intensely on Rodric?
“Celina, dear, take Sam up to the kitchen and make him pack some of that coffee you like for the journey, hmm? I’d like to talk to your young man for a moment.” Barnabus spoke to Celina as if she were a beloved granddaughter.
Pocketing the gifted stone, Celina stepped up to Rodric and touched his arm, silently asking if he was okay with the request. He nodded slowly, still tense. Letting him go, she stepped away, leaving him to Barnabus’s canny senses.
“Come, sit with me.” Taking hold of his wrist, Barnabus used him as a walking stick again as he led them to the two chairs under the only window in the room.
Rodric didn’t think the old man actually needed help, but he didn’t want to be rude to the elder. He waited, wrist still being held loosely captive. When the man spoke, it was unexpected, nearly startling Rodric from his chair.
“You know my Sam.”
“I knew his family, yes. A long time ago." Rodric blinked away images of Damien and his siblings. Their remembered laughter lingered and tightened his chest. “I didn’t know any of them survived.”
“That line is a strong one indeed. I worry for him, when I’m gone…” He trailed off, lost to his own concerns and memories. “Our daughters were all grown, off following their mother’s lead and taking on the world, when he came into our lives. I was so grateful to have a son, to have him follow my path. But he has darkness, from his past, that no amount of love has lightened. Blessings and tragedy, always intertwined, hmm?”
The truth had a weight to it, settling around him like a cloak. Tragedy was at the forefront of his mind, always. Yet, Sam was alive. “He looks exactly like his older brother, Damien, but otherwise seems to be completely different. It was a shock to recognize him.”
Barnabus patted his wrist in a grandfatherly way. “Yes. You’ve had a dark path as well, I can see. You’ll be good for my Sam. Guide him when he needs a warrior’s perspective, a brother’s perspective, as Damien would have.”
“What makes you think I’ll be around to guide him? Or that he’d welcome it?”
“I’m blind, son, not foolish.” Warm, crackling laughter filled the room with more heat and comfort than a roaring fire would have. “I do like you. Not afraid of questions. You’ll need that. Don’t let fear hold you.” Barnabus smiled, squeezing his arm. “Now, are you going to let me gift you a stone?”
“There’s magic involved.” Rodric battled reticence built over a lifetime as he wrestled with everything happening to him. He had to proceed but didn’t know how to do so without drowning in more hurt, inviting more grief into his life.
“Ah, but you are not afraid. We just established that, yes?”
“I still—”
Barnabus waved off his words, moving unerringly to the table to retrieve the stone. Rodric shook his head, amused despite himself as the cunning mapmaker navigated perfectly back to his seat with no assistance. No wonder Celina adored him; he was delightfully formidable. He waited, holding out the stone to Rodric. Challenging him in no uncertain terms.
Overcoming his nausea, he took the stone, accepting the wisdom the old man was intent on giving him.Not afraid.At least it wasn’t healing magic. That terrified him more than anything.
Warmth from the man’s hands settled over Rodric’s, completely blanketing his in tingling heat. Flickers of orange firelight danced over his hands, tugging his burdened soul to the surface. Sensations long buried bubbled up, churning in his chest in effervescent sparks.
A part of him desperately wanted to be okay with this, to join the fight for magic that these people represented. For Avery. For Damien. For Brenna. An equal part of him still wanted to run from the pain. He blinked, trying to rid the emotions from his eyes, and the image of the flames weaving around his hands disappeared.
Finished, the old mapmaker cupped his face, an enigmatic gleam in his cloudy eyes. “You are a good fit for our Cela, a very good fit. Come back and visit me, after.” He winked at Rodric, chuckling merrily as he slowly made his way out of the workshop, pausing briefly to pat the creation he’d made earlier. “Don’t forget your map.”
Rodric stared at the warm stone in his hand as he sifted through his reeling emotions. He’d fled after his life exploded, building a quiet, steady life as a hunter. He’d grown to love his work as a Preddari but was beginning to see that he’d still been running. From magic. From what was left of his family. Right or wrong, those choices had led him here, nearly full circle. An opportunity to make a new set of choices.
After a time, he moved, placing the small stone in the pocket over his chest, nestled safely with Brenna’s bracelet. Moving to the table, he reverently touched the specially made hunter’s map. Thin, strong hide backed the incredibly detailed drawings. Lifelike images materialized in his mind as he ran his fingertips over the individual elements, showing him realistic visions of each area he touched. The map itself was a piece of art, but this was more than art… it was alive.Incredible.
Upstairs, he found Celina and Sam talking quietly near the door, waiting on him.
“Everything okay?” Celina asked as he approached.
