Chapter 19

Iber woke at dawn with a crick in his neck and a stomach growling to be fed. He sat up, and imagined a large breakfast that already had his mouth watering: crisp bacon, hot biscuits dripping with butter and jam, two eggs fried over easy, sausage links, some ham, large chunks of melon, and three different cheeses. Oh, and a glass of orange juice on the side.
“Don’t be rude, bring on the food.”
It took him a moment to process the fact that the tray he’d created in his head remained only in his memory. He stared at his hand, waiting for the fork to appear.
“Don’t panic, don’t frown, or lower your brow, bring my food right here and now!”
“Yo! Iber, do you have to rhyme so loud?” Lasser shouted from under his tree. His shout in turn had awakened Malek, who didn’t ever seem to go through the same phase of half asleep half awake that the rest of them did.
“Magic still isn’t working,” Malek said simply.
“Why not? I’m hungry.”
“Well, go fetch something.” Lasser threw Iber his bow.
“You mean like, shoot something? I haven’t aimed at anything with a bow for twenty years. And I doubt very highly that I can shoot a glass of orange juice.”
“You always were a little spoiled,” Malek said, standing. He grabbed the bow, retrieved Lasser’s quiver and stalked off into the plain of grass.
“Don’t go too far!” Iber called after him.
“If you keep yelling and scaring the game, I will have to go back to Galadin.”
Iber sighed and lay back on the ground. He listened to his stomach grumble for a few minutes until he couldn’t bear it.
“Why don’t you think we have our magic back? I’ve been completely worn out and I’m always better after I sleep.”
“I don’t know.” Lasser sat up and got to his feet. “Maybe the tree died.”
“If the tree died, I’m pretty sure we’d be dead too.”
“So we’re without magic for a while. We can manage. We managed before.”
“It’s just so… inconvenient.”
Lasser started to gather up bits of tree that had fallen on the ground.
“Well, if Malek catches anything at all, unless you want to eat it rare, we need a fire.”
“Oh, right.” Iber began to grab sticks and pile them along with Lasser. When they had a sizeable pile, Lasser patted himself down.
“I don’t even have a piece of flint. We’ll have to do it the hard way.” Iber stared as Lasser labored with the fire. Not only did they not have flint, Iber remembered, but they had no water, no food, no extra clothing, no bedrolls, and no way of getting back over the mountains to Galadin. If their powers didn’t come back, they were in serious trouble.
Just as Lasser got the flames licking at a good pace, Malek emerged from the fields with a pair of dead animals. They looked a bit like a rabbit, but had a large bushy tail.
“And what are those?” Iber asked.
“Edible.”
Lasser handed Malek his knife and he deftly began skinning the animal.
“I think I’m… I’ll be over there.” Iber pointed and walked quickly to the other side of the grove. As he left, one of them chuckled. It had probably been Lasser. Malek would have just rolled his eyes.
Iber took advantage of the little stroll to further survey the area. The hills behind them met the mountains in a rocky stubble of stunted growth. They stretched both north and south. The plain to the west seemed endless as well. Iber boosted himself up between two trees. Even with the greater height, he could see nothing but the tall golden green grass rippling in great waves of wind. The sky was getting heavy with clouds to the west. It was probably only an hour or two before they gathered enough mass to pelt them with a downpour. What else could go wrong?
Iber hopped down and headed back to the fire. The meat was now happily hissing on a makeshift spit.
“I think it’s going to rain.”
Malek looked at Lasser. “He thinks it’s going to rain, Lasser.”
“Then it must be true. At least that will solve the problem of water. How unfortunate that we have nothing to carry it in.”
“Maybe we could,” Iber began. “Never mind, that wouldn’t work. Perhaps we could… Do you guys have a plan?”
“Walk. That way.” Malek pointed straight out into the middle of the field.
“Okay.” Iber really couldn’t think of anything better to say.
“Eat.” Malek said, slicing off a leg and handing it to Iber. It looked a bit like a chicken drumstick. Without thinking any more about it, Iber took a large bite. He chewed. He considered.
“Not bad.”
Malek nodded to Lasser and both began to carve off meat for themselves.
“You let me eat it first? And what would have happened if it was poisonous or something?”
“Malek’s the hunter, I’m the fire builder and you’re the food taster.” Lasser put a piece of meat in his mouth. “It all evens out in the end.”
They finished off the meat of one of the animals. The other was wrapped in a handkerchief they had demanded of Iber. Lasser kicked the fire dead, and the three set out through the tall grass.
“At least we’re together,” Iber said.
“Yes. We’re together.” Malek flatly replied.
“Yeah,” Lasser added.
“You guys are just teasing me, right? I mean, you’re like the brothers I never had. All three of us are only children. We’re family.”
The two of them remained silent, but Lasser was trying desperately to repress a grin. Malek was much better at hiding his amusement. Only his eyes sparkled.
“And whatever happens, we have each other’s backs.”
Lasser slammed Iber on his back so hard he almost fell over.
“Iber, always the optimist,” Malek said. “We’re probably going to die anyway.”
“At least it will be together,” Lasser parroted.
“Exactly!” Iber smiled.
“And whatever happens. It’s Saratin’s fault,” Lasser said.
“But Saratin really had nothing to do with this.”
“You miss the point. It’s always the Saratin’s fault.”
“Why?”
“Do you want it to be your fault?”
“No.”
“Then don’t argue.”
“Okay.”