Chapter 11. Focus

  It had taken days of painstaking labor, but the recharge grid was finally complete. Without knowing what enchantment was on the bag, he ran the risk of burning through his focus immediately when he attempted to recharge it. The grid was a safety net of sorts.

  He had wasted four plates during the process, but now nine correctly-diagrammed plates were aligned in the living room in a three by three grid, with the bag resting inside an etched circle on the center plate. The others had granted him all the space he needed, and kept their distance lest they interrupt his progress. Jeremiah double and triple checked his work. Every rune was precisely etched, every gold bridge, silver gap spacer, and platinum repeater was securely in place.

  Jeremiah inspected the layout again. It was easily the most advanced enchanting he had ever attempted. If he charged the grid and something went wrong, it could destroy the diagram and send him back to Thurok for yet more plates. If it went really wrong, it could destroy the bag itself.

  “Everyone,” he said. He had planned on saying more, but Bruno, Allison and Delilah thundered into the room so abruptly it startled the words out of him.

  “What’s it do!” Allison shouted, leaning over the diagram to peer at bag, before recoiling as though it had scalded her. The mysteries of the artifact and the runes simultaneously attracted and repelled them.

  “I don’t know yet,” Jeremiah shooed them, and they retreated to the edges of the room. He’d have the head of anyone that disturbed the layout now. “I need to empower the runes first, then we’ll find out. It’s alarmingly complex. But I wanted you all here in case something…happens.”

  Bruno and Allison began a pacing contest. Delilah pulled up a chair and perched on it as though she were preparing to receive a lecture.

  “What’s all this say?” asked Delilah, gesturing toward the interconnected plates.

  “No one knows,” said Jeremiah, wishing they’d stop asking him questions he couldn’t answer, “but it’s what’s always worked, so it’s what we use. The ritual will draw magical power from me, and use it to recharge the bag. Depending on what sort of enchantment is on the bag, it’ll take more or less focus from me. I might end up a little loopy, like when I would do too much necromancy.”

  “Is there any danger?” asked Delilah.

  That one he knew. “Yes. If I didn’t make this correctly, I could burn out the enchantment on the bag. Or there could be an energy leak somewhere in the design that puts me into a coma. Or the bag could be damaged in a way that it does something unexpected, like explode.” He resisted the urge to look over the diagram again. “I tried really hard to make sure none of those would happen.”

  The others nodded. There was nothing else to do but begin.

  Jeremiah crouched in front of the first plate, rolling his neck and shoulders as though the process would be physically strenuous. “I’m going to charge panel one first, and once it’s up to capacity it’ll release into the greater rune structure. That’s when the drain will happen.” No one asked, but it wasn’t often he enjoyed a captive audience. “The runes will direct the flow of magic, regulate it, and cut off the flow once the enchantment is activated again.”

  Steeling himself, Jeremiah placed his hands on the runic input marks. He took a breath to speak the ancient words, when Allison asked, “How long will it take?”

  Jeremiah grunted. “Just a couple minutes. Be patient.” He tuned out her reply as he refocused. Keeping his breathing slow and even, trying his best to imitate what he’d seen Thurok do, he spoke the words to initiate the flow of power from himself to the first panel.

  “Is he ok?” Bruno asked. He sounded farther away than he should.

  “I don’t know,” said Allison. “Those lines are glowing, so I think it’s working. It’s kind of pretty.” She sounded even farther.

  “I’m fine, hush,” muttered Jeremiah. The runes around his hands glowed blue with energy. He was better than fine. He was charging first ever real enchantment! His mind wandered back to how natural Necromancy had felt in comparison, but he quickly refocused.

  The glow of the first panel was increasing. Soon the copper plug bridging the space between this panel and the next would give way, and the full draw of magic would begin.

  Jeremiah woke up in his bed. The sun was up. Gus was asleep in the water bowl, and he felt thoroughly refreshed. His thoughts turned to the day ahead, and he found a troubling emptiness. What day was it? Wasn’t he supposed to be doing something?

  He thought back. The memory of setting up the recharge grid was clear, as was beginning the ritual. Then there was a memory of not remembering anything, and now here. Jeremiah stood, breathing deep and stretching luxuriously. He changed from his bedclothes to a comfortable outfit, pocketed Gus, and headed downstairs, prepared to face whatever onslaught of ridicule he surely deserved.

  “The Horse Lord has risen!” Allison announced as he entered the kitchen, where she, Bruno, and Delilah were having breakfast. They applauded and Jeremiah waved to them like an aloof noble. Everyone stood and gave a strange salute of rubbing the backs of their hands on their foreheads.

  Jeremiah hesitated, then repeated the gesture back to them. He was rewarded with a gale of laughter. Allison, unable to keep her feet, collapsed back into her chair. “He does—he does—he does it the exact same way!” she choked.

  “Thank you, my loyal subjects!” Jeremiah said. “Thank you!”

  “Absolutely not!” said Delilah, “You don’t get to lean into this. You don’t even know what you’re leaning into. You. Owe. Us. Embarrassment.”

  Jeremiah grinned sheepishly. It was nice to see his friends laugh this hard. He hadn’t seen that in a long time. “Are we enjoying our magic bag?”

  “Heck no, we weren’t touching that,” said Bruno. Sure enough, the bag was exactly where Jeremiah remembered it, slumped innocuously in the center of the living room. “We weren’t sure if it was cursed or what.”

  “Interesting fact, cursed magic items are usually just poorly made magic items,” said Jeremiah. “It’s very rare that a magic item is made to be intentionally bad. Unless it was made by Archmage Lalan. She was very mean.” He hoped a display of esoteric knowledge would help him recover.

  “What’s an archmage?” asked Allison. Perfect.

  “Excellent question. An archmage is a mage who has mastered at least two schools of magic,” said Jeremiah as he served himself a portion of oatmeal and sat to eat. He was ravenous.

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  “Or one that has gained the title through perfection of their craft by near unanimous approval of their peers,” said Delilah. Jeremiah stared at her. “What? You think I wouldn’t catch up on my arcane facts just because we have a mage in the fold? I live for this stuff.”

  Jeremiah laughed. “Yes, yes, you’re very smart. “Now let’s have a look at that bag!”

  The others kept their distance as Jeremiah scooped up the heavy leather bag and turned it over in his hands. It was most likely not cursed, but it still could be cursed. He loosened the drawstring and peered inside, wondering if the woven metallic threads would still be glowing.

  A glance told him all he needed to know. “Aha! Just as I suspected,” he said.

  Bruno, Allison, and Delilah were shoulder to shoulder, staring in greedy anticipation. When Jeremiah didn’t elaborate, instead making a big show of continuing to inspect the bag, Allison burst out, “Well?!”

  Jeremiah grinned. “Observe.” He held up the bag and slid the entire length of his arm inside of it. It disappeared up to his shoulder, the bag showing no sign of disturbance from the outside.

  “What the…” said Delilah. All three of them stared in open confusion.

  “It’s a Giant’s Bag,” said Jeremiah. “It contains an extra-dimensional space, so the inside of the bag is larger than the outside would let on.”

  “How much larger?” asked Bruno.

  “Let me check,” Jeremiah said. “No one touch the bag while I’m doing this! Stay right there!”

  He placed the open bag on the ground and stepped both of his legs side. As he wiggled like he was pulling on a tight pair of pants, the opening of the bag stretched to accommodate him, until he pulled it up over his head.

  Jeremiah slowly descended into a misty abyss before touching down on an invisible surface. The light from the opening above him shone like a distant sun. He cast a simple light spell to reveal a realm of fog. He touched the floor and found no surface—his hand simply stopped moving forward. He walked with his arm outstretched, eventually reaching an invisible wall. Following the wall led him to another and another, until he had walked the perimeter of the small room. It was almost peaceful, a tiny place devoid of anything at all, wholly apart from the world. A gentle hop propelled him back towards that dim sun.

  He heard a shriek as he popped his head back into the room. “Where did you go?” demanded Bruno. The three of them were collectively leaning forward, desperate to investigate but rooted by Jeremiah’s warning.

  “Literally nowhere,” said Jeremiah, climbing out. “Inside this bag is a separate dimension, about twelve paces square. That means the bag can fit as much stuff as you’d be able to put in a room that size.”

  Delilah leaned towards the bag as far as she could while staying seated. “Can I go in?”

  “No!” said Jeremiah, startling himself with his brusqueness. “It’s too dangerous. If the bag gets damaged—look at me!—if the bag gets damaged, it breaks. If it breaks, the dimension ceases to be connected to the bag, and everything inside is—keep looking!—gone forever. I’m going to say that again: Gone. Forever.”

  Jeremiah let the silence hang in the air while he glared at them, Delilah in particular, until he was sure they understood. “Okay. There’s one more thing I want to test. I need a few objects to put in the bag.”

  After some debate about dish cleanliness, a small collection of silverware and a single mug were added to the Giant’s bag. Jeremiah shook it, then held it towards his huddled friends. “Reach in, while thinking of a spoon, and pull out the first thing you grab. Go on, try it!”

  After a long delay, Delilah was the first to step forward. She gingerly slid her hand inside the bag, and withdrew a spoon.

  “Ta-da!” said Jeremiah.

  “How is that different from a normal bag?” asked Allison.

  “Will you wait one second? Alright, Delilah, I want you to reach in and think about…I don’t know, a sock. Try to pull it out.” She came up empty handed. “Now try a bucket. Now a rock. Now that mug.” Delilah retrieved the mug.

  “Wait. What’s happening?” asked Delilah.

  “The bag knows what you’re reaching for, so you’ll always grab the thing you want. It’s one of the main features—whatever you want is right on top, as long as it’s in there,” Jeremiah watched Delilah turn the mug over and over in her hands. She was thinking fiercely.

  “The bag…knows? How does the bag know what I’m thinking?” she asked.

  “I—uhh, I don’t know. Magic?” Jeremiah shrugged helplessly.

  As Allison and Bruno took turns testing the bag’s retrieval capabilities, Delilah watched in silence. She seemed to be deep in thought. Then, as Allison was itemizing the impressive arsenal that could fit within the bag, Delilah spoke.

  “T-the bag is mine.” Her eyes were as wide as dinner plates.

  Allison furrowed her brow. “Well now, wait a minute. I could pack every kind of weapon, have on hand whatever load-out I need for the job.”

  Bruno glanced at Delilah and winked at Jeremiah. “Yeah, I think it’s definitely for the best that Allison gets the bag. I mean, I guess I could use it too. Allison, would you mind if I kept a few extra tools in there?”

  “Stop,” said Delilah. “We are not having this conversation. I carry so many bottles, vials, boxes, poultices, tonics, bandages, braces, bombs, salves, ointments, antitoxins, stimulants, depressants, poisons, tinctures, and salves, that I had to design an entire suit of armor,” she moved her hands around her body, outlining the corpulent leather onion she became while adventuring, “just to carry it all while having a modicum of protection!”

  Bruno tapped his chin. “You make a good point,” he said, “but you seem to be getting on just fine with the system you’ve got. Why mess with what already works? Allison is limited to only three weapons.”

  Delilah stared at him. “Do you realize how much thought goes into what I’m carrying? How selective I have to be just to be able to move ? I am your doctor! The more I’m able to bring, the greater my contribution! This is a game changer for me!” Her voice was growing towards an alarming pitch.

  “You know,” started Jeremiah, intending to continue the ribbing. But Delilah turned towards him with an expression so full of hope that his commitment to the gag evaporated in an instant. “I, uh, I agree with Delilah. She should get the bag.”

  “You absolute sap,” said Bruno, rolling his eyes.

  “Delilah, leave that poor boy alone. Of course you’re getting the bag,” said Allison.

  "I am?” Delilah’s head whipped from one person to the next, looking for any sign of dissent. Then she whooped, snatched the bag from Jeremiah’s hands, and pranced around the room with it.

  Jeremiah couldn’t help but grin as he watched her. Her joy made him want to celebrate too.

  Bruno clapped Jeremiah on the shoulder. "We probably should talk about how easily she played you,” he said, shaking his head.

  Jeremiah opened his mouth to reply when, like a bucket of ice water crashing over a pleasant dream, there was a knock at the door.