Chapter Five: Triska and Things
(Note: This is not official version and may be removed in the near future. This do not reflect what is read in the podcast version, nor any other version you may encounter. I have preserved the rough form for posterity — or something like that. This novel has since been rewritten.) Inside the Healers’ shop James had the sudden feeling of calm. Something about the way the bookshelves were laid along the walls and the warm red and brown drapes that hung from the ceiling seemed to pull all the anxiety out of him. It reminded him of home, only it clearly was alien to him. Yet that thought above all the thoughts running through his mind soothed him. He followed Pea through a wall of drapes into a room covered in pillows and lit candles. The aroma of ginger replaced the cinnamon and cocoa that had overwhelmed him upon entrance. Pea motioned him to take a seat, and he did, finding a small cushioned chair nearby. Pea did the same. “Pantifilus,” a soft female said from behind a wall of brown curtains, “is that you?” “How did you know?” Pea said. “Because whenever you walk into this house it suddenly smells like ginger.” Pea snickered. A short, pudgy woman appeared through the curtains and eyed the both of them warmly. The top of her head barely met with James’ chin. She wore a thick brown dress that fell all the way to her feet and her face beamed bright and wide. “Pantifilus, you old fool. What brings you back here? Those pixies didn’t hit you with another spell did they?” “No midnight wanderings for me this time Triska. I was fortunate and unfortunate to not find any.” Triska nodded. “And who is your guest?” “I’m James.” He stepped forward to shake the woman’s hand. She took his hand graciously, bowed her head, and shook gently. He nodded back, remembering Pea’s recitation of etiquette early that day. “I found him not too far off from the Old Oak.” Triska looked between them. “He’s why you’ve come then?” “Yes. I think he’s either lost his mind or never had it to begin with. You should hear his story. It’s quite charming.” Pea grinned a wide, sarcastic grin at James. James frowned back and then looked at Triska, who now eyed him with further enthusiasm. James looked away a moment as Triska peered at him. Then he told her what he had told Pea—plain and simple. She only looked at him, for that he was thankful. Pea had simply laughed uncontrollably. At least in this instance he sensed that someone at least considered his story, if only for a brief moment. “That’s an interesting story.” “It’s the truth.” Pea broke in and said, “Well, do you think you can fix it?” “No problem at all. I’ve treated worse insanities.” “What happens if what I’m telling is the truth?” He said that with a hint of bitterness. I’m not insane. Triska smirked. “Then the tables turn and I get a full dose of reality. Healers can only fix, not mess things up. But there hasn’t been a person here from another world in as long as my ancestors could remember. Shall we begin?” James nodded. “Good, now sit down and relax.” As he did, Triska slipped out of the room and produced a small cup of a steaming liquid. A familiar scent lifted his spirits—jasmine. Triska handed him the cup. “Drink this. It will help you relax. Just a mild concoction of my own. Herbs and the like.” He took a sip, swished the liquid in his mouth, and nearby choked at the sudden rush of flavor that sent every taste bud yearning for more. Then he gulped the rest down, ignoring the slight burning sensation that followed. Warmth filled every inch of his body, powerful and intoxicating warmth. “Good. Relax and close your eyes.” James felt two warm hands slide to the sides of his head. They were comforting, worn hands. Then a burst of light filled his vision, despite his eyes being closed. More lights came and he had the feeling that something lurked in the back of his mind, wandering aimlessly along the imaginary paths that connected everything there. Images of his childhood came and went, then of his parents and Woodton. It seemed as if his entire life were passing by at the speed of light, so fast he hadn’t the time to dwell on any one thing. Then a burst of red flashed into his vision, followed by a roar—the same roar that had come from the satin bag. The sound ripped through his mind and attacked the entity that had brought about all the images. Darkness covered his vision. Then the darkness lit up with the presence of the same inhuman eye. A bellowing scream forced James to open his eyes. He couldn’t take the sounds any longer. The rush back to reality, or to James that was how it seemed, gave him a long bout of dizziness. When it settled he noticed Triska laying a few feet away panting loudly with Pea by her side in a vein attempt to comfort her. Both looked at him in fear. Droplets of sweat fell from Triska’s forehead. “What is it?” Pea said. “The eye! He’s been marked by the eye!” Pea broke away from Triska and raised his hand violently. A burst of energy hit James in the chest and he found himself suspended in the air with legs and arms drawn in four opposing directions. He struggled to break free. “You’re a spy from Angtholand!” “No!” “Don’t lie to me. Triska is no fool. You’ve been marked!” “I only saw it through the satin bag. The eye took my friend!” Pea started to speak but was abruptly cut off by Triska. “He’s not lying Pea. He’s not lying. Everything he’s said is the truth.” “What? How is that possible?” “He came through a satin bag. Very