Free Galactic Mage 4: Alien Arrivals by John Daulton Page B

chanced upon something glowing dimly in the distance, a pale purplish radiance coming up from the floor.
    “Look,” Orli shouted, seeing it first. “Look, there!” She laughed aloud. “I just knew it. There. He’s still alive. He’s still alive!” She started running toward it before Altin had even spotted it.
    “Wait,” he called after her, but she was already well on her way.
    They ran up to the edge of what seemed a small crater, small enough that Orli could have jumped across, but deep enough that climbing down into it would make it awkward getting back out. Peering into it, they saw the source of the purple glow, a round patch of crystals barely an arm’s length across.
    They stood side by side, staring down at it for a time, Orli barely daring to hope that it might really still be alive. “Do you think it’s possible this is really going to work?” she said.
    His head rotated in the fishbowl of his helmet to look at her. “It was your idea. Of course it will work.” He flashed his beautiful smile at her and then started climbing down inside.
    “Altin,” she began, reaching out to touch his arm.
    “What?”
    She looked into his eyes, so steady, so perfectly committed to this plan, so wholly given to the passionate entreaty she had made that brought him here despite his own misgivings at the start. She drew in a long breath and smiled. “Nothing. I love you.”
    He smiled again, his teeth tinged with a touch of blue by the reflected lights of his helmet controls. “I love you too. Now let’s see about getting Blue Fire someone to love as well.” With that, he climbed down into the hole.

Chapter 8
    C alico Castle’s tall central spire settled into its proper place with a great rush of air. Its sudden arrival out of the teleport spell blew dust up from between the cracks of the uneven flagstones in the central courtyard and blew the skirts and apron strings of the kitchen keeper, Kettle, all about. She squinted and looked up to the window high above, then back to the Earth man standing next to her. She pointed at the tower, her stout arm raised, as she said, “There ya be. That’s the master what finally come home. Ya can keep yer questions ta him, ’cause I hanna got time fer em, and weren’t likely ta have a proper answer anyway.”
    As if he’d heard it, Altin stuck his head out through the window, and from the perspective of poor Kettle down below, he might easily have been some form of alien monster looking down at her. She knew quite well that Altin had taken Miss Pewter to some distant world, and for a moment upon seeing that helmeted head, she was right sure they’d both been killed and this bulbous-headed freak had returned to eat the rest of them.
    The engineer standing beside her, however, was entirely familiar with the spacesuit design, and he waved an eager hello. “Sir Altin,” he called up. “We need your input on a few things before we can continue down here.”
    Altin’s gloved hands came up, and they could see him pawing at the helmet for a time until a pair of smaller hands, a woman’s and without gloves, came into view and deftly unlatched Altin’s glassy lid. He lifted the helmet off and, looking slightly exasperated, called out, “I’ll be right down.”
    “Well, and there ya have it,” said Kettle, sounding put out by the entire affair. Without another word she set straight off for the kitchens and her culinary demesne.
    A few minutes later found Altin and Orli emerging from the large central doors of Calico Castle’s main hall, both out of their spacesuits and in more comfortable Prosperion attire. Altin’s gray-and-brown robes fluttered in the breeze of his long strides as he eagerly approached the engineer, several steps ahead of Orli, who was hopping after him as best she could while still pulling on the second of her tall black riding boots. He reached out and shook the man’s hand enthusiastically. “Master Sambua, I’m glad you are back. Orli and I