Bearers of the Black Staff

The Gray Man shook his head. “But I’ve heard about weapons like it that date back to the time of the Great Wars. They were used by government armies and then later by rogue militias after the armies were destroyed. They fired metal projectiles of some sort, didn’t they?”


“Shells filled with metal bits.” The big man reached into his pocket and pulled one out. It was about three inches long and an inch thick, metal-jacketed and banded with red circles. “One of these, fired from this gun, will blow a fist-size hole completely through you. Nothing stands up to it. Not even agenahls. You have the last of those black staffs? Well, I have the last of these. A Tyson Flechette, best gun ever made. Passed down through various families until it came to my dad and then to me. I take good care of this sweetheart.”

He handed it over to Sider to examine. The Gray Man hesitated and then accepted the gesture with a nod. He looked at the flechette, remembering what he had heard about them from the people in the valley who claimed their ancestors had brought a handful with them before the mists sealed everyone in. But all those weapons had become rusted or broken over the years or simply been put away and forgotten. The shells, he remembered, lost potency over time and eventually became worthless. They were all gone, too.

“You can have your magic,” Deladion Inch declared. “I’ll take my flechette. It’s never let me down, and it never will.”

He seemed pretty certain about this. Sider handed the weapon back. “Well, I don’t know much about it, except that it saved my life. Seems to have worked well enough for you.”

The big man nodded. “Every time. I got some other stuff, too—other weapons and explosives. Thing is, I know how to take care of this kind of equipment, how to maintain it in good, working condition so it does what it’s supposed to do. Most people, they think you don’t have to do anything but point and shoot whenever you feel like it and that’s all it takes. Those people are all dead or on their way to being dead. Not me.” He grinned. “How about you, Sider? You have to do anything to protect that black staff of yours? Does it need any special treatment?”

There it was again, Deladion Inch’s insistence on knowing about the staff. Sider studied him a moment and then said, “I usually don’t talk about such things, Inch. It’s not that I don’t trust people; it’s just a habit. But you saved my life and you seem a good sort. So I’ll make a bargain with you. I’ll tell you about the staff if you’ll tell me about the world you’ve been living in. Because I don’t know about your world. I’ve been shut away in the mountains for so long that I haven’t any idea what’s going on out here. Those agenahls? Never saw or heard of one before today. I don’t know what things are like, and I need to.”

The big man stared. “You don’t know anything?”

“No more than what I’ve seen since I left the mountains a day or two ago. No more than what I’ve heard you talk about.”

Deladion Inch shook his head. “That would be funny if it weren’t so sad. You’re lucky you’re still alive, even given my help.” He paused, studying Sider. “So what you suggest is that we spend some time together swapping information—me about this world and what lives in it, you about your staff and its magic? That about it?”

Sider nodded. “I can’t travel right away, not on my own. I don’t know that I can even find a safe place while I heal. I owe you my life, but that makes you responsible for me. Ever hear of that before? So if you can find us a place to hole up and agree to stay with me for a day or so, I would be grateful. But if you can’t, I’ll understand.”

“Oh, I can stay with you. I can do whatever I choose. And I know where all the safe places are in this part of the country. This is my territory, Sider—I know everything there is to know.” He scratched his chin and shrugged. “All right, I’ll accept your bargain. I like you. And I don’t want to think I had anything to do with you dying out here alone. You’re right—you wouldn’t know where to begin to find a safe place on your own. Even if you were well enough to travel, I don’t know that you would make it back without help. Not knowing as little as you do.”

Sider said nothing; there was nothing to say.

The big man rose. “All right, then. First thing we need to do is find a place to shelter. Then we can talk. How are you for walking?”