Ascendants of Ancients Sovereign - By Phillip Jones Page 0,53

the field. He was talking gibberish. He’s drunk. I swear, I don’t know anything about a map.”

A wave of force erupted from the man’s palm and knocked George to the ground. “If you’re lying to us, we’ll find you. I suggest you stay away from the Pool of Sorrow. The treasure is ours.”

A moment later, the two men vanished.

Stunned, George looked around to see if anyone had witnessed the confrontation. He was alone. Holy hell, he thought as he looked down at his hand. His skin was still red. Could this magic crap be real after all?

The longer he sat in silence replaying the altercation in his head, the angrier he became. He shook his head. Hell no. Screw those chumps and their damn parlor tricks. They’re no better than my father. With the sun approaching the horizon, he mumbled his next statement. “I’ll be damned if I let a couple punks push me around. We’ll see how tough they are next time we run into each other.”

George stood, dusted himself off and headed into town.

A moment later, Lasidious appeared with the two attackers at his side. He handed each a pouch full of coin. “You can return to Luvelles now. Thank you for your help, gentlemen.”

Both men bowed. “You’re welcome, My Lord.”

Lasidious passed his hand over the tops of their heads, and then they vanished.

It was not long before George realized that he stood out like a sore thumb. Anyone he tried to speak with would have nothing to do with him because of his appearance. The people just stared and walked away when he approached.

The men of the town were rugged and wore leather clothing for the most part. Some wore softer-looking clothes and were made of a material that George had never seen. The women had better taste. They wore long dresses that had the essence of an old-world style.

He smiled. At least the women feel it’s important to accent their curves. This place is like some kind of renaissance Beverly Hillbillies’ town. How funny is that? This place would be great for a TV pilot.

George looked down at his hand. It was still red. A moment later, he lifted his arm and sniffed. Holy balls, I smell! I freaking reek. I must look like a bum to these people. He noticed a tear on the right leg of his pants. Must have happened when I landed on Jason. Poor bastard.

His shirt, pants, belt, wallet and cuff links (all Gucci) were out of step with the town’s fashion. His shoes, not meant for sprinting through fields, looked like garesh, and they were scuffed from his rugged run.

George pulled the rip on his pant leg apart and uncovered a good-sized bruise on his thigh. He figured his adrenaline had been the reason he had not noticed the pain until now.

Releasing the fabric, he whispered, “If I don’t figure out a way to blend in, no one will speak to me.”

George studied his surroundings as he walked through the town. After another hour or so, he found a solution to his problem. From an alleyway, he watched as one of the town merchants locked the front doors of his store for the night. The older man shook the lock to double-check it and then made his way down the street.

George looked at the sign above the door. Hmmm, I can read the writing. Maybe I’m not so far from home after all. The Old Mercantile, eh? Let’s let things get a little darker around here, and I’ll pay the joint a visit.

George knew dusk was not the best series of moments in which to perform a robbery. He would need to wait until it was dark before he circled to the back of the store.

He had noticed some stables down the road. While passing, he had seen a piece of iron laying on the ground with a sharp point on one end. He hurried to retrieve it, wanting to make it back to this spot to keep scouting for the right moment to make his move.

This would not be the first robbery in George’s life. His high school had been his mark on four occasions, his foster dad’s home twice, and the recreational center near his mother’s home had been his target on a dozen different occasions when he was 15. He loved to go swimming at midnight, and he was only 16 when he was caught robbing a local bar to steal beer for his friends.

This place is