Seeker of the Four Winds: A Galatia Novel by C. D. Verhoff Page A

a red Cape Cod with white
trim that I designed myself, was almost complete and I couldn’t be
prouder. The well had been dug. Any spare time I had, which was
damn little, I spent on the finishing touches like shutters,
cupboards, and elevated beds for the family. The Penn House, as we
liked to call it, sat a mile outside of the city. I had already
worn a trail between my house and the city.
    A group of skilled Commoners showed me how to
farm with the tools available in this world—no big machinery like I
was accustomed to in the bunker. But before long I had a
magnificent garden going and was increasing field capacity every
day. My willingness to share the bounty meant there was no shortage
of volunteers to help me with the planting and harvests. Thanks to
the gift God had given me, the community was already enjoying my
first crop of corn, beans, muskmelon, and various varieties of
lettuce. The apple trees I had planted would not produce fruit this
season or next, but the saplings in the orchard looked healthy and
strong.
    I was most excited about the pumpkins.
    We weren’t able to justify the space needed
to grow them in the bunker. I hadn’t seen one since I was a boy
living in Hewego. Mother promised to make me a pie. I couldn’t wait
for my children to get a taste of true pumpkin. When Bryce stopped
by for a visit, we hung out on the front porch swing and daydreamed
about pie.
    “Pumpkins were the first fruits I touched
with charisma. Wait a second— is a pumpkin a fruit or a
vegetable?”
    “Hell if I know.” Bryce laughed. “I sure
missed you the last ten years, Mike.”
    “I missed you, too.” A question had been
percolating at the back of my mind for a while. Among us brothers,
there was no need for formality, so I just blurted it out. “Simon
Steelsun can be pretty intense, but overall he’s a peaceable
fellow; why is he so hostile toward Magus? And he doesn’t seem too
fond of Barrett either. Did something happen between them? Is that
why he left your settlement? Bad blood?”
    “I’m sure that was a big factor. It’s a long
story, but no big deal, really.”
    “I would like to hear it.”
    “Simon’s narrow-minded ways created
friction.”
    “The good doctor—narrow-minded?” I said.
“That’s difficult to believe.”
    “What if I told you the laws of physics have
changed, brother? What if I told your there’s more to this world
than meets the eye?”
    “Are you forgetting our Christian roots? Of
course there are many unseen things.”
    “I’m not talking about the things of heaven.
I’m talking about an unseen river of raw power.”
    “You mean the charisma.”
    He shook his head. “I mean magic.”
    I busted out laughing.
    “You said that so serious. I almost believed
you.”
    “I am deadly serious, brother.”
    “You mean like spells, potions, and witches
on broomsticks?”
    “The first two, yes. The latter—not that I’ve
seen.”
    I scratched my beard. “I don’t know what to
say.”
    “Say you’ll give me a chance to prove
it.”
    “Uh,” I had been totally unprepared for this
conversation and the ensuing proposal. There didn’t seem to be any
harm in letting him show me. “Okay.”
    I followed my brother across the meadow, to
the edge of the Kalida River. Wild violets covered the ground like
a plush purple blanket. A tree of unknown species grew nearby, its
chains of yellow flowers dangling over a table with log legs and a
gray slab top. He took a black metal box molded with celestial
symbols from underneath the table. Opening the lid, Bryce pulled
out bottles of colored liquids and a bundled white washcloth.
    “As you know, I’m a man of limited charisma,”
Bryce said, “but watch as magic helps me bridge the gap.”
    My eyebrows raised with growing
curiosity.
    “Everyone thinks that the kindly Michael Penn
is the only one in Galatia with the power to manipulate the cycle
of life, but what if anyone could do it? What if every farmer in
Galatia knew how to