The Stewards of Reed, Volume 1: The Rise of Fallon (32 page)

BOOK: The Stewards of Reed, Volume 1: The Rise of Fallon
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“What special element are we looking for?” asked Fallon. “Shall we be searching the mines for it?”

Steward Isaiah laughed. “No, my son. I know a reputable jeweler in town. He shall help us find what we need.”

“I did not think there was such a thing as a reputable jeweler,” replied Gentry.

“Do not let Saul hear you say that,” chuckled the Steward.

Saul’s Jewelry Shop was on the corner of the main square in Jessum. He did not keep much on display - he found that doing so only invited trouble – but in his vault he kept a wide variety of gold and jewels of all colors, shapes and sizes.

“Hello, Saul!” piped the Steward as he stepped into the shop.

“Isaiah, it has been a long time. How have you been, my friend?” Saul was an older gentleman with thin grey hair, glasses and a generous smile.

“Very well, thank you. These are my friends, Gentry and Fallon.”

They exchanged greetings and turned back towards the Steward.

“I am looking for a starcrest stone, my friend.”

The jeweler arched one of his eyebrows in surprise. “Those are incredibly rare and difficult to come by, you know. What makes you think I have any to sell?”

“Because if anyone in all of Laureline had the stone, or knew where to find one, it would be you,” replied the Steward, as he set a small bag of gold pieces on the counter.

“The stone shall cost you twice that amount,” Saul said as he walked to the front door, locking it. He then disappeared into the back room for several minutes. He came back holding a small leather pouch. He slowly poured the contents of the pouch onto the counter.

The Steward smiled. “That shall do,” he said, looking at the stone.

Fallon had never seen anything like it. The stone was flat, pitch black in color, and within its center was a clear crystal formed in the perfect shape of a star. With the exception of a small hole at one end, the stone was perfectly solid and smooth.

“Did some craftsmen make this?” Gentry asked, holding the flat rock up to his eye for a closer inspection. He had never seen anything like it either.

“No, not to my knowledge,” replied Saul. “They are found in nature this way - at the bottom of old riverbeds and in mines that reach deep into the mountains.

“What is the stone used for?” asked Fallon, turning to Steward Isaiah.

“That is the subject of another lesson,” replied the Steward. “Thank you, Saul.” The Steward pulled forth another small bag full of gold pieces and set it on the counter. “This ought to cover it.”

Afterwards the Steward retired to the Inn. “Enjoy your evening, but please do not stay out too late,” he said. “We must leave first thing tomorrow.”

Gentry had already found their next destination, a pub across the square that had live music and loud patrons. “The Steward said to enjoy ourselves, and they are clearly enjoying themselves at The Happy Miner,” said Gentry with a smile, before pushing his way into the crowded pub.

They managed to find a table in the corner and were patiently waiting for the waitress to come by when Gentry saw him. It was Dennison. He was behind the bar, pouring drinks. “What is he doing here?” he mumbled in shock.

“What did you say?” asked Fallon, struggling to hear above the noise of the crowd.

“We should leave,” replied Gentry, leaning close to his friend so as to avoid having to shout. “It is much too crowded in here. It shall take too long for our drinks and time is short.”

Gentry ducked out of the pub as quickly as he had pushed his way in, hoping that Dennison did not catch sight of him. Fallon was puzzled but followed his friend.

Down the street they found a near-empty pub with cheap ale that was bitter to the taste.

“Are you certain you want to waste your gold on this?” asked Fallon, grimacing as he swallowed.

But Gentry said nothing. His mind was on Dennison.

*************

A few days after returning from their trip to Jessum, Steward Isaiah called Fallon out to his metalworking shop. In his hand was the starcrest stone he had purchased from Saul. Fallon had been quite curious about the stone and was excited for the upcoming lesson.

The Steward did not say a word. He placed the stone down on a nearby workbench and started a fire. He nursed the flames until they were roaring, then he picked up the stone, smiled at Fallon, and chucked it into the fire.

Fallon’s mouth fell open. He could not believe the Steward just threw the precious stone into the flames – especially after parting with so much gold for it.
What if the crystal melted or the rock cracked under the intense heat?
“Steward,” he started to say, but Isaiah waved him off.

They sat watching the flames for a good half hour before the Steward had Fallon douse the fire with water. When the steam finally cleared, Isaiah bent down to retrieve the stone.

“Steward, no!” Fallon shouted when he realized what Isaiah was doing. But it was too late – the Steward had already grasped the stone.

Isaiah smiled brightly. “Here, take it,” he said, holding the stone out to Fallon.

The boy nervously grabbed for the stone, and was surprised to find that it was cool to the touch, as if it had been sitting in a pool of water this entire time instead of a raging fire. “How is that possible?” muttered Fallon, clearly stumped.

Steward Isaiah just smiled. Then he picked up a hammer. “Now place the stone on that anvil please,” he said, pointing behind Fallon.

Fallon placed the stone on the anvil as instructed and turned back to Isaiah.

“Now, take this hammer and hit the stone as hard as you can.”

Fallon reluctantly did as he was told. Raising the hammer above his shoulder, he brought it down with as much force as he could muster. It was a relatively flat stone and Fallon was certain it would shatter, but the impact had absolutely no effect. The stone was perfectly intact without the slightest scratch. Fallon looked incredulously at the stone and then at the Steward.

“Hit it again,” the Steward said, and Fallon obeyed. He struck the stone several times, yet it remained intact.

Isaiah reached into his pocket and retrieved yet another starcrest stone. As he stared at the stone he finally began to explain. “Steward Benjamin gave this to me when I was about your age, and I have been trying for the better part of sixty years to figure out its secrets. But alas, it remains a mystery to me. As far as I know, it is completely indestructible; immune to heat, cold, acidic potions, brute force, magic spells and everything else I have tried. I know of no other object that can sit in fire for so long and still be cool to the touch. I have no idea how it was made or what its true purpose is. The stone is… magical.”

He looked up at Fallon before continuing. “I suppose that is the point of this lesson. There are forces at work in this world much greater than you and me, Fallon. It is likely you shall encounter many things in your lifetime – things that are beyond your understanding and the understanding of all those around you. Perhaps these things shall be explained at some point in the future, perhaps not. In the meantime, they fall in the realm of mystery and magic.”

“Like being marked,” ventured Fallon as he absentmindedly touched his chest.

“Aye,” replied the Steward. “That particular magic comes with much responsibility, yet also many gifts as you have already learned. Anyway, my point is, do not fear that which you do not understand. Embrace the mystery, embrace magic, embrace life. And if you ever figure out the secrets of the stone, by all means let me know!”

The Steward and Fallon both chuckled.

“That stone is for you to keep,” said Isaiah. “A physical reminder to believe in things greater than yourself; that there is a purpose for everything, even if you may not know what it is just yet.”

Fallon reached for the stone he had just tried to destroy with a hammer and clutched it tight. “Thank you, Steward.”

“You have earned it my boy.”

That night Fallon’s recurring dream came back - more vivid than ever. His mind was racing so fast when he awoke that he could not fall back asleep. Even a few shots of whiskey (a birthday present from Gentry) did not help.

Beatrice scolded the exhausted boy the next morning, convinced that he had snuck out to the pubs with Gentry. “That boy is trouble,” she said, shaking her head. “You better eat this before the Steward sees what sort of shape you are in this fine morning.”

Fallon stared down at the eggs and toast before him and smiled at Beatrice. She could not help but smile back.

*************

Autumn was fading fast and Gentry knew his time was short. He had managed to sneak away to Jessum a few times since his visit earlier in the year, but this trip would likely be his last for some time. A bitter wind was blowing the last remaining leaves from the trees, and snowfall was not too far behind.

He had learned much in recent weeks. Dennison and his girlfriend (or perhaps Lana was his wife now) lived in a tiny house on the edge of town with their little boy and Lana’s mother. The move appeared to be permanent; he overhead Dennison telling a patron he was planning to build an addition on the house as soon as he saved up enough money. He was a grumpy bartender, but he never missed a shift at The Happy Miner. The owner of the establishment was particularly fond of Dennison as he did not tolerate much and showed little hesitation at throwing drunkards out the door (literally).

As far as Gentry could tell, Dennison had left his gang and his unscrupulous lifestyle behind in Colton. If he was not pouring beers at The Happy Miner, he was at home with his family. He seemed to be an especially doting father, always throwing his young son up in the air amid squeals of delight, and showing him around the small garden in their yard.

Gentry was surprised to see this side of Dennison, yet he was not deterred. He was too vested in avenging Luca. He had already come so far…Dennison was the last one. So Gentry took up his usual place in a dark corner of The Happy Miner, and as he watched his old nemesis at the bar, he continued to plot his final revenge.

*************

The snow was falling outside as Gentry and Fallon sat in Vance’s Tavern. They had long since lost count of the number of pints each had consumed. For once, Daria was not there. She was home sick with a cold. But it was just as well – Gentry was not in good form.

“I am a broken man, Fallon,” he said, staring at the brown froth in his pint glass.

“How is that, my friend?”

But Gentry ignored the question. “I am not so naive as to think she shall fix me,” he continued. “But she is a small light in my darkness, nonetheless.”

Fallon noticed that tears were now forming in Gentry’s eyes.

“I shall be lost without her.”

Fallon frowned. Gentry was in one of his moods again. He knew there was nothing he could say. Gentry was not listening to anything but the tortured words in his own head.

Gentry was silent for some time and then looked up at Fallon. “At times I truly believe I was not meant to be saved that day in the forest, the broken man that I am, the man that I have become. Perhaps you were meant to go to that cabin instead.”

Fallon had let that part of the snake bite story slip one night after several pints long ago, though he had not been certain if his friend took notice until now.

“I would be dead, for certain,” Gentry continued, “but perhaps that would have been the lesser consequence.”

Fallon frowned again. He had often wondered about that cabin, but he was certain he had made the right choice to follow the boar. He only wished he knew how to help his friend. Alas, whatever it was that made him broken, Gentry kept to himself.

*************

As Gentry struggled with his inner demons and continued plotting his final revenge, Fallon began taking a larger role in the administrative affairs of Reed. He was attending all the Council meetings now, and although he did not speak much, the Steward did seek out his opinion from time to time.

Fallon sat on the uncomfortable wooden chair and surveyed the Elders. It was still strange to look around and not see the faces of Elder Jacob or Elder Anne. Elder Sarah occupied Elder Anne’s seat now, but the quiet school teacher was no match for her predecessor.

The mild winter of the previous year resulted in a prosperous crop, and Reed had finally recovered from the Komanite raid; all the storage barns were at capacity or near it. There had been no additional sightings of the Komanites, but Hammond’s army was prepared nonetheless. There was nothing new to report on the growing troubles in the East. Elder Graham had not heard from his contacts in Durango for some time now.

Things had returned to normal – at least for the time being.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The 18th Year of Fallon

The final snows of winter had melted weeks ago, and Fallon and Attawan were making yet another pilgrimage to Littlebrook. In a few hours he would be celebrating his 18
th
birthday with his family. His Aunt Rebecca had stopped by the week prior to let him know that she would also be there, along with her husband Charles. Fallon was not especially close to them, and even though he lived within walking distance of their shop, he only saw them but two or three times a year. In truth, he felt as though they would be intruding where they were not wanted, but he kept these thoughts to himself and forced a smile. “Very well, I shall look forward to seeing you there,” he said without much enthusiasm.

Dinner was awkward. Even Elizabeth and Zeke could not manage to keep a lively conversation going. Aunt Rebecca did not say much, but Uncle Charles apparently enjoyed the sound of his own voice and dominated the conversation with boring details of the retail business in Reed. “My fabric shop is doing a brisk business these days. I suppose the villagers are reaping the benefits of a prosperous crop and are finally willing to purchase material for new clothing.” He was eyeing Elizabeth’s worn-out dress when he said this, and it took all of the woman’s effort to bite her tongue.

To Fallon’s disappointment, Jonas, Elizabeth and Talia ended up taking leave of his party soon after he blew out his birthday candle. To add to his annoyance, Fallon’s room had been taken over by his aunt and uncle, so he was forced to sleep in Zeke’s room that evening. The two boys did not quite fit on the bed together anymore, so he moved onto the hard wood floor with nothing but a small pillow and blanket.

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