Chapter 15 The city of Tel’mar was a small city just on the outskirts of Dragon Canyon. About two

days ride from the Fairy Woods, the scenery had taken a drastic change. From beautiful green

hills and lush forests, it had turned into harsh blazing sun, rocks, and dust. The city itself was

made up of buildings of clay and rock, and flattop roofs. Merchants sold their wears in the streets

in the open-air market, most on carpets, while others had full stalls with canopies set up to help

patrons escape from the sun. The streets were full and bustling with people, almost to the point

of suffocation.

The atmosphere made Maxine feel absolutely alive. It was so reminiscent of the harsh

environment of the Isana Desert that it made her feel like she was back home. She found herself

ogling the dark robes that the girls donned, wishing that she could replace her own traveling robe

with one.

“We’re going to have to hire a guide,” Kriss was saying to Amar.

“You were so against it before back in Two Rivers. What’s changed?”

“You’ve clearly never been here before. The canyon isn’t just some ditch. It’s filled with

caves and cliffs, and plenty of dead ends. There is little water down there. Simply casting a water

spell is going to be highly energy depleting – we can’t create water from nothing.”

Amar looked over his shoulder at her. She shook her head. “Don’t look at me. Creation is

Aurora’s territory and just like with Remus, it’s forbidden for everyone and me included. I can’t

create something out of nothing. If this place is anything like Isana, they have Phorcys

Priestesses that pray over water basins to keep them flowing.”

Amar looked back over at Kriss. “So, who do you suggest?”

“We should hit up the taverns. Miners from the canyon frequent them and they act as

guides for extra money.”

“Miners?” Maxine asked, squeezing through the crowds hovering around a small basin

that had a small water fountain flowing into it. She watched the familiar scene with some

nostalgia as children filled up water buckets and went racing off home with them.

“The canyon is rich in ores that have certain magical properties. The Isanese, for

instance, do a lot of trade up this way. They go ga-ga over the stuff here.”

Amar grunted as he glared at a group of darker-skinned men that had tattoos on their

foreheads. “I hate Isanese. Nothing but deceitful demon-using druids.”

“Hey!” she shouted over her shoulder. “Watch it – I’m Isanese.”

“Yeah, don’t get me started on the irony of that little fact.”

“I thought warlocks liked druids. Druids frequently employ them.”

“They employ us because our magic doesn’t interfere with their demons. My family is

strong supporters of them, but I’m afraid that I don’t share their views. Demons belong back in

Tartarus. I’ve never met a druid that I liked.”

Kriss lead them forward, forcibly squeezing himself between people, even casting a few

wind spells to force a way through, causing a few shouts of dismay. Finally they managed to slip

into side street that was far less crowded. “Come on,” he said with a wave of his hand. “The

tavern I went to before is just down this way.”

Amar frowned, looking around, his gaze finally stopping on her. There was something in

his eyes as he stared at her that she didn’t quite understand. “Kriss, what sort of tavern?” he

asked.

“One that the miners frequent a lot. It’s busy and a bit rowdy, but it’s probably our best

chance to find someone who knows what they’re doing.”

Amar continued to analyze her with that same dubious look. She was growing more

confused and uncomfortable under his watchful gaze. “Is something wrong?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “I don’t like this plan.” He stopped and then shouted towards Kriss who

was pulling away from them now, a few feet ahead. “Kriss, wait –“ He cut himself short, his eyes

roving to something just behind her. Before she had a chance to look behind her he reached out

and grabbed her arm and then shoved her forward, falling into a fast walk. He leaned into her and

hissed into her ear. “Walk – and don’t stop. Keep your eyes forward.” He released her and pulled

his pole around off of his back. There was something in his voice that made her the hairs on her

neck stand up. “Damn sprite,” he growled. “The both of you have a problem of thinking things

through. Kriss!” he shouted the sprite’s name to catch his attention. “Slow down a bit, moron.”

Kriss spun around a smile on his face. For just a moment she saw the smile falter, and his

two antennae lowered, but then the smile returned and he rushed back up to them shouting.

“Geez, the two of you are so slow.” When he reached them he turned back around and lowered

his voice. “You see them?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Amar said. “Glad you had the sense not to make a show of it.”

“Not the first time I’ve had some thugs trying to pick on me.”

Goosebumps popped up on her arms and she fought the urge to look back. “You think

people would really want to attack three teenagers in broad daylight?”

“On an empty street like this? Who’s gonna stop them? Relax. Look – I want you to stay

out of the way. Let me and Kriss handle the fighting.”

“Huh? But I can –“

“Stand back and throw spells if you see we need it,” he interrupted her. “You have no

experience with that damn sword and I don’t want you to taking chances. Now, do what I say.”

Stay out of a fight? The message was so opposite to her nature that her brain could barely

process it. But then she shook her head and thought it through. She had only ever been in

schoolyard brawls – fists and magic. This was going to be something entirely different. She drew

in a deep breath and agreed. “Alright.”

They had barely gotten another dozen feet when the footsteps behind them suddenly

increased into that of running steps. Amar shoved her to the side before she had a chance to

react. She stumbled and slammed into a wall before she got her feet back under and she turned

around. Amar and Kriss had both already unleashed a couple of spells between them and were

now fighting them one on one, Kriss with a short blade in his hands that he must have pulled out

from his sleeves, and Amar with his gold pole, using it with expert care as if it were a spear.

Whatever spells they had cast did not seem to have had an effect.

“Maxine!” Kriss shouted. “They have wards. Can you do something about them?”

She blinked and her third eye opened. The world of Threads came to life around her as

she stepped onto the magic plane. There were about four men that they were fighting, and each

one of them had something around their necks hidden in their shirts that were made up of a

netting of purple and green Threads. Child’s play she thought. What she had once done with her

fingers to both the statue in the Academy and then the entrance to the cave outside of Ailis City,

she could now do with a simple command, ordering the Threads to unravel. “Done!” she

shouted.

“Good,” Amar said, pushing the man away with a flick of his pole and jumping back, an

evil smile on his face. “Let’s try this again.” He drew a quick symbol in the dirt and said a single

word. She felt the Threads in the air come to life, reds and golds weaving themselves together.

Waves of some sort of dark energy slammed into the man and he gasped in pain. He fell to his

knees clutching at his heart and then his eyes rolled back into his head.

The man behind him that had been rushing forward stopped and gaped at the body of his

now-dead friend. He stared up at Amar, an expression of fear on his face. “I wouldn’t rely on

that ward if I were you,” Amar taunted. “Back off!”

Beside him Kriss was having similar luck with his own opponents. Feeling good and like

she had contributed she shouted out to him, cheering him on. A sound to her right caught her

attention and she looked over. A pile of boxes had toppled, a big-barrel chested man with a

sword in his hand snarling at them in frustration. He looked up and their eyes met for a moment.

He raised his weapon and then charged, releasing a battle cry as he raced towards her that

sounded like something half man and half beast.

Her mind blanked and she froze. The sight of a five foot blade coming towards her

terrifying her.

“Maxine!” Amar screamed somewhere.

The scream woke her up but she couldn’t remember anything about weaving a spell. The

colors? What colors to use?! And what spell should she cast? She made a last ditch attempt,

fumbling for the sword at her belt but it was too late. The man reached her and brought the sword

down on her. The butt end of the hilt cracked into her skull and she fell to the ground blacking

out for just a moment and coming to just in time to feel the man heft her up and over his shoulder

and then run into an alleyway.

She had the feeling that she lost consciousness again several times while the man ran off

with her. How much time she lost she wasn’t sure. She didn’t think much time because he was

still in the alleyways, but it must have been enough to reassure him that he had lost everyone. He

hefted her off of his shoulder and dropped her to the ground. She tried to force herself to focus,

to lift her head even, but each attempt failed. She heard the soft hiss of a knife leaving its sheath

and seconds later it came into view. The man grabbed her shirt just at her left shoulder and

pushed the knife to it. She panicked for a moment, bracing herself to be cut, but all that she heard

was the rending of fabric without a feel of any pain. She looked over to find that he had cut a

small slit in her clothes that he had not stuck his fingers through, pulling the halves apart,

widening the tear, revealing the skin of her shoulder.

What was he doing?

He looked at her shoulder and a small smile spread across his lips. “So you are Isanese,”

he said. “Not a druid, but your family should still be willing to pay good money to have you

back.”

She blinked and looked at her shoulder. Her white tattoo was clearly visible in the tear.

She gaped up at him and almost wanted to shake her head. Oh dear elements, this guy had no

idea what a poor choice that he had made for a ransom victim.

She shouted in pain her head swimming as he once again picked her up and heft her over

his shoulder. Damn, if she could just pull her thoughts together she knew she could just defeat

this guy with a single spell.

He took off running again but had only gotten around a corner when it felt like his body

had slammed into something. He gave a grunt of pain and doubled over, a jolt traveling through

his body.

“Let her go,” a voice commanded. The voice was definitely male, but it was far too deep

to be Kriss’s or even Amar’s, and there was a slight intonation of a faded accent.

“I’m gonna break your neck, boy,” the man growled.

“Try it,” the voice said.

Her captor rushed forward, raising his arm, maybe to punch perhaps, but she felt

something slam into the man’s chin, just a hair’s breadth away from her own body. It barely

mattered now. Her consciousness had returned, sharp enough for her to act. She pushed her body

up off of the man’s shoulder and crooked her elbow. Using both arms for leverage, she pulled

back and brought her elbow down hard onto the man’s temple. The double whammy brought the

guy to his knees, dropping her roughly to the ground. She landed hard on her rump with a shout

of pain. She scrambled quickly to her feet and spun around to take off.

She stopped just in time before slamming into a boy roughly a head taller than her, but

clearly her own age, if not slightly older. Her eyes met his for just a moment as they took each

other in. His eyes were almond-shaped and storm-gray and he had sandy blond hair which was

windswept and had a pair of goggles pushed back into the short locks. His skin was the same

tanned shade of her own, marred only by red and blue tattoos along his forehead. He wore only a

sleeveless leather vest that hung open revealing a chiseled chest that disappeared into simple

black pants. In his calloused hands he was clutching a pickaxe.

She immediately felt a charge go through her and felt her cheeks heat up. His lips broke

into a wide friendly smile. “Alright there, Bright Eyes?”

She was saved from attempting to get her tongue to work enough to answer him by the

man behind her giving a shout of frustration. The boy’s eyes left her and he stepped around. “Get

behind me,” he ordered.

She barely heard his words, her mind going blank now for an entirely different reason.

Oh dear elements help her but he was so hot! She buried her face in her hands and chided herself.

She was the Fallen One about to be purged and right now in a dangerous situation – staring at

cute boys was not something that should be anywhere on her agenda!

“Get out of my way, boy!” the man shouted.

The boy hefted his pickaxe, tapping the shaft in one hand. “No. You back off or I swear

I’ll bury this thing into the side of your head.”

The man glared at her rescuer, clearly sizing him up and determining his chances, but a

shout in the distance seemed to make up his mind. He spun around on his heels and took off at a

run, the shouts of her name getting louder, along with the sounds of pounding feet.

By the time the man had gone Amar and Kriss came rushing into the alley. Amar’s eyes

lighted first on her rescuer and then on her. Then he gritted his teeth and clutched his pole tighter

and launched himself forward, raising the pole up over his head. The boy had just enough time to

lift up the shaft of his pickaxe and catch it. For a moment she watched in stunned astonishment

as both Amar and the boy danced around, Amar raining down blow after blow, but the boy

expertly defending himself.

“Amar, wait, stop!” she shouted.

But he didn’t. Instead he suddenly jumped back, choosing a different tactic. She felt the

surge of power through the Threads and watched them weave and execute. Several sharp blades

of wind cut through the air, attempting to slice into the boy who had helped rescue her. She

watched in stunned disbelief as each and every single blade disappeared, leaving the boy

absolutely unharmed. She got her next big surprise when she stared at the boy through her third

eye.

He had a thick Soul Ring encircling him made up of purple and green Threads.

This boy was a Sorcerer!

Amar shouted in frustration and tried to attempt the boy again. “Hey calm down, buddy!”

the boy shouted at him. “You’re fighting the wrong person. I’m the chick’s rescuer, dammit.”

She shook herself awake again, pulling herself out of the magic plane and this time she

rushed forward, trying to get between Amar and her rescuer. She grabbed his arm, trying to

pulling him back. “Amar, stop it. Stop! He helped me.”

Amar’s eyes were hard and cold, his mouth pulled into a sneer. “You’re too damn

trusting. How the hell do you know that he’s trying to help you. All I see in front of me is a

druid.”

She looked back at the boy and took in his tattoos which hadn’t registered at first. The

boy also raised a hand to them in response but dropped it and shook his head. “I’m not a druid,”

he said. “I’m exiled. These tattoos don’t mean a damn thing.” He pointed to the white tattoo of

his family crest at his left shoulder. The skin looked seared and mangled, as if touched by fire.

“See? They tried to remove my family crest.”

Amar didn’t seem completely satisfied but he did finally lower his pole. “Who the hell

are you?” he demanded.

“Steven Taircart,” he answered. “I saw the fight out in the street and saw the man rush off

with the babe here –“

“Her name is Maxine,” Amar said, practically snarling her name.

Steven stopped and looked over at her, his lips splitting into a wide open smile.

“Maxine,” he said in confirmation.

She didn’t know that just hearing her name said in the right voice could make her heart

flutter the way that it did. Blushing furiously she drew in a deep breath. “Steven,” she greeted

softly.

Still grinning from ear to ear, Steven turned back around to Amar. “You three really

made some big mistakes. You’re lucky those jerks are all that attacked you. Walking out in

daylight as a warlock with an Isanese girl is just asking for trouble just for adults. Those bastards

had her pegged as some rich Isanese druid daughter.”

She reached up to the tear in her clothes and nodded. “Yeah, the man said something

about trying to get my family to pay up for me.”

Amar approached her, analyzing the tear in her shirt. “Why’d he do this?”

She pulled it open and showed up the tattoo on her shoulder, letting him get a good look

at it. It was in the shape of a crescent moon with a diamond hanging from the bottom tip. “All

Isanese children get one when they’re two. It’s our family crest. On our thirteenth birthdays more

gets added to it, and even more depending on family station.”

Steven leaned in to get a good look at it. “I don’t recognize it,” he said. “And you’re

missing your thirteenth marks.”

“That’s ‘cause I’ve been an orphan since I was three,” she said.

His head snapped to her and he looked her over. “Legit or castoff?”

“Legit.”

Steven’s face broke into a grin and he ran a thumb over his mark. “I woulda been a

castoff, but I didn’t really feel like sticking around in one of them overcrowded orphanages.”

Kriss stared between the two of them. “I’m lost,” he said.

“Legits are orphans that are really orphaned,” Maxine explained. “In Isana, the families

are so extreme with magic that if you do not please them they will cast you out of the family.

That’s why our orphanages are so crowded.”

Steven pointed to himself. “I’m a vacant. My family tried to tolerate it – except that for

some reason not only am I a vacant, but there’s something about me that makes all magic near

me just stop working. Bit of a hassle since it means not even health spells work on me, either.

Not that I really give a damn, though. I’ve had all that magic mumbo-jumbo shit crammed down

my throat for so many years, it was a relief when it stopped working altogether.”

Her heart pounded as she did a double take looking Steven over again. Oh dear stars, he

didn’t know. This boy thought he was a vacant?! His Soul Ring was comprised of so many

purples and greens that it was hard to see the specks of other colors in there. If she had more time

and more skill she might focus on the hum from the Ring to determine what his Focus and

Restriction were, but just looking at it, and listening to him, it wasn’t too hard to imagine.

Looking at him made her head hurt. A part of her wanted to blurt it right out and tell him

the truth. She probably should. But… how to explain? She couldn’t just tell this person she was

the Weaver Reborn. And listening to the way he was talking about magic already, she had a

feeling he wouldn’t appreciate the news that he was still very much in the thick of magic. But at

the same time she also knew untrained Sorcerers could be dangerous. Steven needed to be taken

to Terrisma.

Amar drew in a deep breath as if to reign himself in. “Look, Steven. Thank you for the

help. We can take it from here.”

Steven’s eyes didn’t leave hers. “Nah, it’s alright. I really don’t mind staying.”

Amar forced himself in between her and Steven, catching her arm and forcing her back a

few steps. “I do. Get lost. The last thing we need right now is problems from druids.”

Steven looked for a moment like he wanted to argue, but decided against it. “Fine,

whatever. Look, just be more careful in the future, bright eyes,” he said, looking over Amar’s

shoulder. “Stay in crowded streets and don’t come down these small side streets. I’d also

recommend telling your attack dog here to lose the blacks,” he said giving Amar a wry grin, “or

just ditch him completely. You two are a bad combination.” He hefted his pickaxe up on his

shoulder and turned around walking back down the alley. Then he paused and looked back at

her. “If you need somewhere to stay the night that’s a little safer than most places I’d recommend

the Phor-Oasis Inn back on the main street. It’s a little bit expensive, but it’s reputable, and the

food is good in their diner. Hope to see you around again, bright eyes,” he said with a wink and

then was gone.

Damn her heart wouldn’t stop pounding, she thought placing her hand against her chest.

When she looked back up she found Amar scowling at her and Kriss had a silly, knowing

grin on his facing that only made her cheeks burn.

“I asked you a question,” Amar snarled.

Why the hell was he so angry? “I-I’m sorry, I missed it. What’s wrong?”

“I asked if you were alright. Damn you,” he growled, and she knew this conversation was

instantly going to go downhill and she braced herself for it. “thought you were gone for good.

Spirited away by some maniac. What the hell happened? I thought at the very least I could trust

you to protect yourself. You didn’t cast one – not one damn spell. I watched it happen out of the

corner of my eyes and I couldn’t do a damn thing to try to save you.”

“I-I’m sorry. I just froze. I panicked. I’ve never had someone come at me with a sword

before.”

“And yet you had no problem fighting me and punching the shit out of me when we first

met.”

“You weren’t that intimidating to me,” she countered.

Amar went quiet, her words having some sort of reaction that she couldn’t quite make

out, but she noticed that his knuckles around his pole were white. “I could probably kill you with

a single spell,” he said slowly, purposefully. “In a magic fight you would probably lose to me.

That man had nothing. He didn’t even have a magic ward. He was just a stupid uneducated

human. What about him was so much more intimidating to you than me?”

She shrugged not having any real answer to that. “I-I dunno. Maybe because he was three

times my size and I’ve never fought an adult before. I’ve only ever beaten up boys my age.”

“There is something really wrong in that brain of yours, Maxine. I can’t always protect

you. Do not rely on me – or Kriss – like that. Whether it’s me or a man as large as the Emperor

you had better be ready to fight.”

He whirled around and stomped off, his pole whipping through the air with a sharp

whistle. She drew in a deep breath and relaxed, feeling like the storm had passed.

“Don’t take it personally. I think you really scared the hell out of him,” Kriss said,

walking up to her, his wings fluttering behind him.

She shook her head and crossed her arms across her chest. “No, he’s right, Kriss. I

shoulda been ready for that. I’m only lucky the guy just used his hilt and not the pointy end.

Damn it. I just blanked out and by the time I recovered I couldn’t remember what colors of

Threads that I was even supposed to use.”

Kriss’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Colors of Threads…?”

She pulled in a sharp breath through her teeth and cursed herself. “Uh.. n-nevermind.

Forget I said anything. Come on, we better catch up before we piss him off even more.”

Curse herself. It seemed to be one screw up after another. She had to get her act together.

This was not the time to making these huge mistakes. She had to be better than this. Much better.